The Front Runner (Gold Rush Ranch, #3)

by Elsie Silver

Stefan’s voice used to make me roll my eyes. But now it just feels like someone is sliding silk around my neck. Probably to make a noose, which is what thinking about Stefan this way is going to get me.

I’ll take it slow. I’m a patient man, and I think she’ll be worth the wait.

You’re not the pawn, Mira. You’re the prize.

“I’ve answered a lot of questions tonight. And it’s been an absolute pleasure meeting every one of you. But not a single person has inquired about my family planning agenda or implied that I might be close to my expiration date on becoming a father.”

“I find it fascinating that no one has ever asked me that as a man, but somehow it’s polite dinner conversation for a young woman with lofty career goals and an enviable level of focus.”

This woman is about to be my undoing. And I’ll do almost anything to prove to her I’m deserving. I’ll burn it all down to make it happen.

I’d love to ask her how fake we feel after I make her come so hard she can’t see straight. But I won’t. I said I’d make her beg. I said I wouldn’t kiss her. Despite what she might think of me, I’m a man of my word. An honest man.

I don’t want to tame her; I just want a front-row seat to watch her win the race.

“It’s a shame I’m not allowed to kiss you anymore. Because you look positively edible right now, Mira.”

It might even be stronger. It feels like there’s an elastic between us, and I’ve pulled it taut by yanking myself away. I wonder if the more I pull away, the harder we’ll collide. I wonder if we’ll survive the collision.

It chokes me. The smoke I can handle. Losing her when I’ve only just found her, is what I won’t survive. It’s what’s closing my throat and making my eyes sting.

Hands grip at me, pulling me away from her when all I want is to cover her body with mine. To give her anything she needs. Lungs. Skin. Life. She can have it all.

What if she dies saving everything that she thinks is dear to me without knowing she is everything to me? I love you. I love you. I love you.

“She’s breathing. She’s got this.” I peek over my shoulder. Relief and regret pummel me with equal strength. “I can’t lose her.” He gives me a solemn nod. “I know.” “I just can’t.” “I know.” “I love her.” He sighs. “I know, son. I know.”

His lips press against one cheek, in the sweetest kiss. “I love you.” Before moving over to the other, butterflies erupt in my stomach. “I love you.” Our lips meet in a soul-searing kiss, the perfect fit, and he says it a third time. “I love you.” And nothing in my life has ever felt more real. I love him. I love him. I love him.

Next to the lake, Loki and Farrah graze happily in their field. Loki whinnies when he sees me. “Your heart horse is saying hello, my love,” Mira says.

Mira and me? We’re like a phoenix, born from the ashes.