Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Until the glass of bourbon I’ve consumed means I need to take a piss, so I get up from my seat and head to the bathroom. Unfortunately, I have to pass the pool tables on my way there, and evidently, that’s where Norah is now. Farmer Tad is still chatting her ear off, and she has her back against the wall, sipping on a glass of wine.
He says something and she offers a little smile, and I force myself to keep walking even though a vivid fantasy of breaking Tad’s sheepy fingers plays out in my mind.
Fuck, I’m losing it.
23
Norah
Tad grins at me as he drops a binder onto the edge of the pool table that has the words Karaoke Songs labeled on the front.
I chortle at the sight. “That was your secret mission?”
I’ve spent the past hour or so hanging out with Red Bridge’s hottest sheep farmer, and I can’t deny that I’m enjoying myself. Tad is cute, friendly, and quite the talker. Maybe a little too good at talking, if I’m being honest. I’ve learned way more about sheep farming than I’ve ever wanted to know.
“Hey, you don’t know how difficult it is to get this binder on a Friday night. Karaoke is Red Bridge’s most popular pastime.” He nudges me playfully with his elbow. “So, what’s it going to be, Norah?”
“I’d like to remind you that I already did a song. And I don’t think Garth Brooks would appreciate if I do another.”
After I managed to drink half of my second glass of wine and Tad started getting a little too detailed about the difficulties of shearing wool, I let him convince me to get up onstage and sing “Friends in Low Places.” Poorly, I might add, because a singer I am not. The only thing I can and should do related to music is listen to it.
“And I’d like to remind you that you had fun up there onstage.”
“But I don’t want to be the only one having fun, Tad,” I tell him with a cheeky smile. “Which is why it’s time for you to pick a song and get your ass up there.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll take the bait. But only if you’ll agree to a duet.”
“I’m not dueting with you.” I roll my eyes and laugh at the same time. “But I will get up there one more time if you do the same and go first.”
“You have a deal, Norah Ellis.” A big smile covers his lips. “Already know which song I’ll sing.”
“Great.” I snort and finish off the rest of my second glass of wine with a hearty chug. I set the empty glass on a high-top table against the wall. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to run to the ladies’ room real quick before I have to follow through.”
“What song should I tell Mikey to play for ya?” Tad calls toward my now-retreating back. Mikey, the man he’s referring to, is Red Bridge’s hottest DJ. Or, you know, a twentysomething dude with a black mullet and some old DJ equipment.
“You just worry about your performance. I’ll tell Mikey when I get back,” I call back over my shoulder as I make a beeline for the restrooms.
A light flickers in the middle of the long hallway, signaling a bulb that probably needs to be changed, and I squint to adjust my vision as I seek out which of the two doors is labeled Ladies.
But I don’t get very far in my search because the person walking out of one of the doors is someone I know, someone I just saw mere hours ago—Bennett.
He’s changed his clothes from earlier today, wearing a simple pair of jeans and a clean white T-shirt with his usual brown boots. His hair looks like he’s run his fingers through it a thousand times. And his blue eyes appear ten shades darker under the bad lighting.
Though, the bad lighting doesn’t make him look bad. Not at all, actually. It simply highlights the hard edges of his muscular arms and chest and cloaks his face in something I can only describe as mystery. Sexy-as-hell mystery.
It’s confusing that God made a guy this difficult so damn good-looking.
He stops a mere foot away from me, and I have to look up, up, up to meet his eyes. Good Lord, he really is a big guy. Tall and well-built, if he were a tree, he’d be a damn redwood.
“Did you just get here?” I ask, and my heart bounces around in my chest as if I’m happy to see him. Like he was the exact person I was hoping I’d run into tonight. Which is nuts.
“Been here for a bit.” His voice is doing that honey and sandpaper thing I’ve come to know so well.
“Oh really?” I scrunch up my nose in surprise. “I didn’t see you come in.”