Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Scott, that old sunavabitch bull…” Ryan walked through the door and stopped short at the sight of Sydney standing in the middle of the room, his voice fading to silence as his unblinking eyes openly appraised her.
Removing his work gloves, he stuck his hand out. “Ryan Sutter. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Blackstone.” The last was said with a teasing note in his voice and a good-for-nothing, one-sided grin. I didn’t like it, my temper sparking.
Smiling, Sydney shook his hand. “Call me Sydney.”
I didn’t like that either.
Ryan’s smile grew wider, the right side lifting to mirror the left side. “Will do.”
“Ryan––” I finally barked because I didn’t like any of this shit.
Ryan’s attention reluctantly turned to me. “Tiny is giving us trouble again. Won’t breed and won’t let any of the younger bulls near the ladies. I gotta take him out.”
“Take him out?” Sydney suddenly spoke up, a concerned look on her face.
That look called to all the reasons she didn’t belong here. Why she didn’t belong with me. “Babydoll, look around you. This isn’t Woketopia. If having animals ethically put down is an issue, you’re not going to like living on a working cattle ranch.”
Silence. Both Laurel and Ryan frowned at me. Sydney simply stared. Not even a vague semblance of a reaction to my microagression. Could I have said it with a little more delicacy? Maybe. But I was fresh out of patience––my erection being the primary cause, an erection that I was too damn old to be having in the middle of the day.
Ryan gave Sydney a sympathetic smile. “I meant put him in a smaller pasture by himself. Problem is, he gets harder to handle when he’s all by his lonesome. Gets meaner––like most males.” My best friend aimed an accusing glare my way. “But we don’t have a choice at this point. He hurt one of the younger bulls pretty bad.”
“Let’s give him another week to see if he’ll breed,” I told him. “If not, we’ll have to get rid of him.” I put my head down, went back to pretending to check out the inventory spreadsheets. If I continued to stare at my wife, I’d embarrass myself. Meanwhile, Ryan crossed the room to pour himself a cup of coffee.
“Pete and I would love to have you over for dinner this week,” I heard Laurel jabber on. “Tomorrow night, Scott?”
I looked up from my computer screen to find both women watching me.
“Can’t tomorrow.”
Laurel’s face pinched. “Wednesday then.”
Lips pressed tight, I scratched under my chin. “I don’t know. I’ll have to see.”
“Friday,” Laurel tried once again, her lips thinning.
“I’ll let you know.”
My gaze flickered over to Sydney. She was wearing her go-to blank expression while Laurel and I went at it.
“Sydney––” Laurel started when her impatience with me reached critical level. “Why don’t we go to lunch on Friday. I could show you around town. Would you like that?”
Relief spread on Sydney’s face and an uncomfortable feeling parked itself over my chest.
“That would be great. Should I meet you here?” she said.
“Works for me,” Laurel cheerfully replied. What the hell was there to be so cheerful about? “The drive will give us time to get to know each other.”
Fuck. I had to put a stop to this. “Don’t we have the feed delivery coming that day?”
Laurel leveled me with the same expression she gave little Pete when he misbehaved and was close to crossing the line that would earn him a whooping. Little Pete was ten.
“No, Scott. It’s comin’ on Thursday. And Imma tell you right now that I’m taking an extended lunch on Friday.”
Before we could exchange another barb, Sydney stepped forward. “I’m actually here to let you know that the water heater’s broken.”
I expected her to be overwrought about it. Instead, I got indifference.
“I had to take a cold shower this morning,” she added, not even mildly upset.
She didn’t say anything about the furnace. I’d jimmied that too. And barely slept. First, the mattress was arguably the worst on the planet. Second, as it happened, we had our first serious cold snap last night. I’d snuck out early, to take a shower back at my place, but how long could I sustain that before she caught on? This plan was already starting to backfire and I was only on day one.
“Send Drake to the cabin to check on the water heater,” I told Ryan.
“The cabin?” Ryan echoed, the question edged with confusion.
“Yeah, the cabin. Tell him to go check on it.” My tone said no more questions. So did my face.
Sydney made for the door. “I’m going grocery shopping. Can I get you anything?”
Then she hit me with that single malt whiskey–colored stare of hers, the type a weaker man could get drunk on and turn amenable to persuasion. Good thing I wasn’t that guy.