Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“It’s Wednesday.” Ryder blinks.
“So?”
“This have anything to do with Sally?” Duke asks. “I saw y’all dancing last night. Looked…cozy.”
Sawyer screws up one eye against the sun and the dust. “I thought I heard her call you Daddy.”
Heat crawls up my neck. Sally did call me Daddy, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. My dick throbs at the memory.
I bite back a wince. I’ve been on the verge of a half chub ever since it happened. Kept me up way past my bedtime, wondering if Sally had gone home with Beck after I left.
I wondered if the eager way she’d touched me—the heat in her eyes—was real, or if she really was just faking it to get that dickhead’s attention.
No wonder I smoked like a chimney on the drive home. My chest is still heavy from all the cigarettes I long-darted out my truck’s window. I only smoke when I’m stressed or drinking, but even the occasional cigarette is terrible for you. I need to quit. Go cold turkey.
I tell myself quitting will be easier after Sally leaves for New York. I won’t be so stressed then. Or horny. Or angry with myself for being such a fucking coward and not telling my best friend how I feel. But being honest would mean opening up—risking decimation—and I don’t do that. Avoiding my feelings might not be the smartest way of protecting myself, but it does mean I avoid more hurt.
“We got work to do.” My voice sounds gruff, even to my own ears. I clear my throat. “And y’all remember what Mom said about gossip.”
“Gossip is the Devil’s radio,” Sawyer replies.
Duke grins. “But nature’s telephone.”
My chest twists. Mom had a big heart and was always telling us the importance of kindness, but she also had a wicked sense of humor. I’d like to think I inherited all of that.
God, I miss her.
Grabbing a piece of gum from my saddlebag, I pop it into my mouth and climb back into the saddle. “Don’t make me pull rank, y’all. Let’s get to it.”
Garrett Luck made Cash foreman of Lucky Ranch when my brother was barely twenty years old. Cash was green as a blade of grass—we all were—but Garrett was patient with us, and taught us everything he knew about running a cattle ranch.
I miss him too. His death from a massive heart attack this spring shocked us all; he was only fifty-six and in great shape. Cash took it the hardest, but all of us Rivers boys felt the loss of our adopted father figure acutely.
Sometimes, I wonder if we’re cursed, like every parental figure in our lives is going to be taken away.
Like everyone we love really is going to leave.
When Cash and Mollie became co-owners of the newly created Lucky River Ranch, they made me foreman. My older brother—bless his black heart—left big shoes to fill. He’s a hard-ass, but he’s always been fair, and he pushes us to do our best. He had no problem getting people to take him seriously.
Me, on the other hand? I couldn’t get my brothers to take me seriously if I paid them. And I mean that literally because as their boss, I really do pay them now.
Case in point: Duke snickers at my threat. Ryder climbs back in the saddle, but pulls his phone out of his pocket. Sawyer is on his phone, thumbs flying over the screen. But that’s allowed because he’s got a three-year-old daughter, Ella, at home.
Still, if Cash told the guys to get a move on, they’d get a move on.
“Y’all.”
No one so much as glances my way.
“Y’all.”
Only Sawyer looks up at my bark. “Sorry, Wy, just checking in with Ella’s teacher. We’re all good. Back to the barn?”
“Back to the barn. Sawyer, you and I are gonna meet with the farrier. Those clowns”—I motion to the twins—“can muck stalls.”
Ryder finally looks up from his phone. “Aw, man—”
“Shoulda listened. I won’t ask again.”
Giving orders is weird. I still haven’t decided if I like being in charge. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the opportunity. And the pay raise. I don’t mind the extra work. But things have changed so much so quickly around here. I wonder if I have what it takes to do Lucky River Ranch justice. I’m a good cowboy. Good brother. Decent poker player too.
But a leader? A boss? I don’t know if I can take myself that seriously. No one else does.
We’ve brought in the herd now that winter’s approaching, so we’re able to ride back to the horse barn since we’re close enough. I don’t mind it one bit. I suck in lungfuls of crisp, cool air as the boys and I cover the distance in a trot. The breeze is refreshing in the best way, drying my sweat. The sun feels good on my shoulders, my back, my thighs.