Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
I stare at him, stunned. And here I was thinking he thought I was a spoiled brat.
“I can call you by your name if you prefer. What is it?”
“Carrie,” I tell him with my cheeks blushing. “What’s yours?”
“Tyler Becker.”
I’m so intrigued by this man. By this Tyler Becker. He seems to be in his early thirties, thirty-four if I had to guess. I’m only twenty-two and never thought I’d be into an older man, but I’m starting to rethink that. He’s got such a confident assuredness about him. It’s incredibly sexy.
He continues backing up, and again, he’s showing complete confidence in his abilities. The fear of tumbling off the mountain dissipates a little with each skilled movement of his truck.
“So, what do you do for work up here? Or, do you just live off the land?” I wouldn’t be surprised if he said that he built this truck from scratch.
“I own a business.”
“Oh yeah?”
He nods as he maneuvers around a steep bend. There’s about a foot of shrubs past the road and then the land falls off into a foresty abyss. My stomach sinks. I have to close my eyes so I don’t scream.
“I’m a wrangler.”
“A what?”
He chuckles. “I have twelve horses and a few employees. I carved out some trails through the mountain and we take tourists on them. Some of the sights are breathtaking.”
I swallow hard as my eyes roam down his chest while he’s turned, looking out the back windshield. “I bet.”
“It’s an easy-going life. I like being in nature every day.”
That’s what I would like. To be around horses. To be more in touch with nature. Well, if I had a strong capable man to do all the stuff I don’t want to do like pushing my car out of the mud and other dirty stuff like that.
“And what about you? Tell me all about yourself, princess. Sorry, I mean, Carrie.”
I’m not minding the princess thing so much anymore. If he thinks I should be worshipped, then who am I to argue? I kinda wish I just kept my mouth shut about it.
“I live in Calgary.”
“Canada?” he asks, whipping his head around. A look of disappointment fills his brown eyes.
“What? You don’t like Canadians?”
“It’s not that… It’s just…”
“What?”
He huffs out a breath as he turns back to the road. “Nothing. What do you do in Calgary?”
“I work in a boutique marketing firm. Do you know that jingle for Watson’s paper towels?”
He just looks at me.
“You know that song that goes ‘Counters, floors, and tables, Watson’s is able, Paper towels on the scene, To keep your house clean.’?”
He keeps looking at me.
“It’s pretty popular. It played during the World Cup. It was trending for an afternoon on YouTube too.”
There’s zero recognition on his face.
“I don’t have a TV.”
Of course, you don’t.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Well, I came up with it.”
A few awkward seconds pass. I swear if he heard the jingle, he’d love it. It’d be stuck in his head all day. Maybe I should sing it to him again…
“So, do you live in Calgary with a boyfriend?”
His jaw clenches tight as he waits for my answer. I’d swear that he was jealous if it wasn’t such a crazy idea that this gorgeous mountain god wanted anything to do with an annoying city girl like me. He probably wants to drop me off at the earliest convenience, go home, rub hot oil all over his muscular chest, and then chop down a tree with an axe. Or, whatever hot muscular mountain men do in their free time. I’m not too sure.
“No, I live with my parents,” I answer with my nerve endings stirring and tingling. “I’m single. No boyfriend for me.”
That’s been a bit of a sore spot lately. My best friend is getting married and all of my other friends are going to the wedding with dates. I’m the only loser going alone.
He exhales long and hard, like he’s releasing some bottled-up tension.
“And what about you?” I ask as I watch his grip on the steering wheel ease up. “Do you have a wild mountain woman you live with? Does she dress in bearskin and eat bark off trees?”
“What?” he says, looking at me with a chuckle.
“Nothing,” I say as my cheeks heat up. “Do you have a girlfriend? Or a wife?”
He shakes his head and a flood of relief fills me up.
“No, I was waiting for the right one to come along.”
Was. Hmm, interesting. Probably just a mistake. Or, maybe he’s given up on love. This secluded mountain would be the perfect place to live for someone who’s not trying to meet anyone.
“She hasn’t come along yet?”
He looks at me from the corner of his eye and then turns back to the road, swerving the truck around another steep bend. “I wouldn’t say that.”