Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Miles. We all have different moms.”
“Oh.” Pink rises to Carly’s cheeks.
Which only makes her look more enticing.
My cock reacts. Again. Down boy.
“Well”—Carly clears her throat—“if there’s nothing you need, I should get back to work.”
Right. I’m her employer, after all, so I should make sure she’s working. Except I’m not quite ready for our conversation to end because she’s the prettiest thing I’ve seen since I arrived. Hell, I never saw anything like her back in Seattle.
There, I worked all the time to keep the business going. Took Mom to doctor’s appointments when needed. Helped with chores around her house. I did everything but look for a woman.
Mom texted earlier, easing my mind a little.
* * *
MOM: Greg’s working out well. He’s gotten the routes down and Ed tells me he doesn’t suck. His words, not mine.
* * *
We found a fill-in pilot for me while I’m gone. The problem is that his paycheck eats into the overhead, so I don’t know how long we’ll stay afloat. Literally.
One year. One year and it’ll all work out. Things will be tight for a little and then… no more worries.
Except Mom will still be sick.
* * *
ME: Good to hear. How’s that new med working?
* * *
She assured me she noticed a difference although I’m not sure if it’s a lie because she’s too stubborn to give an inch to her illness or because she doesn’t want to add to my worries.
Either way, I can’t do much to help Greg, the fill-in pilot, or Mom.
I refocus on the beauty in front of me. “What do you do here?”
“I’m a veterinary assistant.” She doesn’t move her gaze from the horse.
“Right. I heard we have vets on staff.” For the fifty-plus horses Shankle mentioned. Which I now own. Cows, too.
She lets out a cute little huff. “For an owner, you don’t seem to know a lot about your own ranch.”
I laugh and cross my arms over my chest. “Honey, I know nothing about this place. I just got here two days ago. I’m a city boy.”
Her blush extends to her neck. “Honey? I’m not anyone’s honey.”
I raise my hands in mock surrender. “It’s just a word, Carly. I call everyone honey.”
She narrows her gorgeous eyes. “Do you call your brothers honey?”
I let out a guffaw. “Half brothers. And hell no. Just the ladies. If it makes you feel better, I’ll try not to call you honey anymore.”
She looks to the ground. “It’s a very large ranch, Mr. Bridger. We may never see each other again, in which case you won’t need to call me anything.”
She’s right about one thing. This ranch is fucking huge. But she’s absolutely wrong about the other. I may not be able to take her to my bed, but I’m sure going to look to my heart’s content. She sure is pretty. That long dark hair would look damned good spread across my pillow. The soft swells of her breasts are probably barely a handful, but I bet they’re pert with perfect pink nipples. I wonder if I can make her come just from playing with them.
“It’s Austin.” I clear my throat. “And it would be a shame if I didn’t see your pretty smile again.”
Her cheeks take on a darker pink hue. I can’t help but wonder if they match her—
“All right. Austin.”
My whole body responds with a quiver when my name passes her lips. Fuck.
“We seem to find ourselves in a similar situation.” I smile. “We’re both new here.”
“I don’t find our situations similar at all,” she retorts. “When’s the last time you groomed a horse?”
I grin. “Around the fifteenth of never.”
She shakes her head. “And you expect to run a ranch?”
No, I don’t expect to run a ranch. I expect to fake it for a year so I can get my billion, and then I’ll hightail it back to my real life in Seattle. The will might demand that I stay here and work the land with my half brothers, but I’m not sure how good I’ll be.
“Is grooming horses a requirement to be a rancher?” I ask. If so, I’m going to have to learn. Hmm, I might have a good teacher in Carly. Maybe I could teach her a few things too.
She doesn’t reply at first, and just when I think she’s done talking to me—
“I grew up on a ranch, albeit a tiny one in comparison. It’s just down the road. Horse grooming is one of the first things my father taught me.” She frowns again, but this time I’m not sure why.
“I grew up learning how to fly,” I tell her. “From my mom. Not the same thing at all.”
A smile turns up the corner of her lips. “This ranch is big. I’m sure there’s something you’ll be good at, if not horses.”
“I’ve got a year, so I’ll have to find something to do,” I grumble.