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)
“Mornin’. Smells good.” I peel off the plastic and twist off the cap before handing her the bottle. “What are you doing up so early on a Saturday?”
She lifts a shoulder. “Wyatt invited me to join y’all today. And you’re up early too. Want an omelet?”
“I’d love one.” Turning around, I lean my backside against the countertop and cross my arms so that I’m facing Mollie. She’s got bags underneath her eyes. But her eyes themselves? They’re lit up, same as they were last night. “How’re you feeling?”
“Okay. I don’t know how y’all stay out so late and then get up at the ass crack of dawn.”
I nod at the coffeepot. “Why do you think we make it so strong? Appreciate you makin’ some food for us this morning.”
“I imagine everyone will be more than a little hungover this morning. Carbs and cheese are the answer.”
I get that buzzy feeling in the back of my throat again. Like my heart’s plugged into an electrical socket and its vibrations echo up and down my spinal column.
“Kind of you,” I say.
Mollie flips the pair of omelets sizzling in the skillet. “Don’t call the devil. I’ve never made breakfast for twenty people before, so I really may end up poisoning y’all. Although this time, it won’t be intentional.”
“Look at us, making progress. No more threats of manslaughter.”
She smiles. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, cowboy. How are you feeling? You were working up a sweat on that dance floor.”
Drawing a breath, I have to think about that. When was the last time someone asked about me? How I’m doing?
When was the last time I felt decent after getting less than four hours of sleep?
“I’m…all right, actually. Tired, but not?”
“Me too.” She’s still smiling as she flips the omelets one last time. “I forgot how much I love to dance.”
I grab a pair of plates and hold them out, giving her a wink. “That’s because you’ve never danced with me before.”
“You’re not half bad.” She uses a spatula to slide an omelet onto each plate. “Not as good as I am, granted.”
“Hey. It’s been a minute. What do you want with this?” I hold up a plate. “Salsa? Sour cream?”
She blinks. “Both, please. And Texas Pete.”
“Got it.”
“Should I start on some more?” Mollie glances at the door. “I don’t know when to expect everyone else.”
“Like you said, people will be moving slow this morning. We can eat.” I set us up at the corner of the table, then head for the coffeepot. “You have any yet?”
“Not yet, no.”
“How do you like it?”
She blinks, like her mind went right into the gutter, just like mine. Is she blushing?
Aw, yeah, I like making Mollie blush.
“Black, please.”
Hand on the carafe, I frown. “Really?”
She hesitates. “Actually, can you make it light and sweet?”
“Yes, ma’am, I can. How I like it too.”
We sit and dig in. I love this time of day. The quiet. The hot coffee and cool air. Well, it’s not exactly cool, but it’s cooler than it was last night.
“This is delicious.” I wipe my mouth on my napkin.
Mollie sips her coffee. “So is this. Thank you.”
“Drink up. You’re gonna need that energy if you’re coming out with us today.”
She hesitates again, coffee still in hand. “Is that an invitation?”
“You’re coming whether I invite you or not.”
Her lips twitch. “What gave me away?”
“The fact that you’re not wearing a single sequin. And the Ariats.”
“Just taking notes.” Mollie glances at my own Ariats under the table. I wear them every so often to keep Garrett’s boots from getting too banged up. “I thought I’d ask you to return the favor—I got you dancing last night, so I was hoping you’d get me riding today.”
My turn to blush. Jesus Christ, my brain is back to horny-fifteen-year-old-boy mode.
“I can do that,” I manage, scalding my tongue when I take a big sip of coffee. “So you’re really gonna stay. On the ranch.”
Mollie uses the edge of her fork to cut her omelet. “Honestly? I don’t know yet. My whole life is back in Dallas. My business partner is there. Mom, my grandparents. I’m hoping Mom’s lawyers figure out a way around that stipulation so I at least have a choice as to whether or not I stay.”
My heart twists.
I nearly drop my mug. Whoa-whoa-whoa. Am I actually…a little bummed Mollie isn’t sure about staying? Since when? I don’t want her to stay. But I guess I also don’t want her to leave?
Lord above.
“You can always leave the ranch to me,” I joke. Only it’s not a joke.
I expect Mollie to roll her eyes. Call me out on being shameless.
Instead, she lifts a shoulder and says, “You’re really fucking good at running it. I have a lot to learn from you.”
I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again. “And you want to learn?”