Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Ignoring the now-familiar twist inside my chest, I crumple the empty foil and shove it in my back pocket. After the shower, the lemonade, and the sandwich, I feel like a new man.
I also feel like punching my brother. But that’s nothing new.
Following Wyatt and Mollie out to the corral, I nearly fall the fuck over when I see Mollie head right for my niece. Mollie crouches beside her, smiling as she shows Ella how to straighten her fingers so the goats can nibble at the carrots in her palm.
Mollie smiles. A bright, happy thing that makes an entirely different sensation bloom in my center.
I will myself to ignore it.
“Great job!” she says, holding up her hand for a high five.
Ella slaps it, giggling like the adorable lunatic she is. “More! Ella need more!”
Sawyer turns from his conversation with Ella’s teacher. “How do we ask?”
“Please!” Ella says.
Mollie laughs, glancing up at my brother. “How can I resist when she asks so nicely?”
“Ella use her manners,” my niece replies. “You loves her.” Then she body-slams Mollie in her approximation of a hug.
Sawyer and I both lunge forward at the same time. “Ella, gentle!”
But Mollie just laughs, wrapping her arms around my niece. “She’s fine. I needed a hug, Ella. Thank you.”
I will not dwell on why Mollie would say that.
I will not keep staring as she and Ella become fast friends.
I also will not stare at Mollie’s breasts, which look like they’re about to spill out of the deep neckline of her dress.
But desire—familiar, achy—grips my heart and squeezes. It’s not sexual desire. Well, not entirely. It’s…deeper than that.
I loved growing up in a big family. Loved being surrounded by people, despite the chaos. Most of all, I loved the feeling of belonging I’d get when the seven of us were together.
I felt safe. Seen. Happy.
Even when I was young, before my parents died, I knew I wanted a family of my own. I always thought I’d raise a bunch of kids on Rivers Ranch, same way I was raised: surrounded by nature, community, and a real sense of home.
But then life happened. And, well, I’m too fucking busy taking care of this family to think about starting my own. Especially now that we’re back to square one in terms of our future. I can barely keep my head above the water as it is. Emotionally. Financially. Physically. Adding a wife and babies to the mix…
Yeah, that ain’t gonna happen.
Most days, I’m okay with that. Too busy to dwell on shit I can’t change. But sometimes, it really fucking hurts.
Mollie looks up, her eyes catching on mine. There’s another catch just inside my breastbone.
I should look away.
I have a million very good reasons why I need to look the fuck away.
But there’s a spark in her eyes I haven’t seen before. Or—wait—I have seen it, only in pictures.
Garrett’s pictures of a five- or six-year-old girl, giddy to be playing cowgirl beside her daddy.
Crouching in the dirt, a three-year-old Velcroed to her side, Mollie looks…lit up, like she does in Garrett’s pictures.
Is it the baby goats? All the toddlers? Wyatt’s shameless flirting?
Or is it something else that’s making her happy?
Shoving those questions aside, I tear my gaze from Mollie’s and glance up at the sky. Still no sign of rain.
That hand is still around my heart, its grip fierce.
Lifting my hat off my head, I smooth back my hair. It’s already damp with sweat again. If this heat doesn’t kill me, Mollie Luck surely will.
I put my hat back on and clear my throat. “All right, y’all, who wants to feed the baby horse?”
CHAPTER 12
Mollie
HAPPY
It’s the shock of the century.
Well, I imagine it wouldn’t be shocking at all to see ordinary cowboys—ones that aren’t growly grumps—patiently bottle-feed a tiny baby horse.
But it is a shock to see Cash Rivers doing it, and doing it well. Just like the LL Cool J song, it’s really fucking hot.
Like, really fucking hot.
My mouth literally goes dry as I watch Cash patiently feed the foal, his hat tipped back so I can see his face. He’s got one enormous hand on the bottle, the other on the foal’s glossy brown coat.
I need to leave. Now. Turn around and walk out of the barn, because if I don’t, I’m worried I’ll combust. Watching Cash is making me feel things.
Things that are inappropriate and inconvenient and just plain wrong.
“Happy’s mama couldn’t feed her, so we’re going to do it,” Cash says, slowly running that hand up and down the horse’s back as she nurses. “Happy is doing so well, isn’t she?”
Ella, who took my hand as we walked over from the corral and hasn’t let go since, buries her head in my leg.
“Neigh,” she says softly.
Cash looks up, a smile creasing his face. “That’s right, Ella. That’s the sound horses make. Can y’all do it too?” He glances at her classmates.