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)
The same Scott who I had loosely agreed to marry––God help me.
I knew all this because I’d hired his cleaning lady when he moved out of town and Thea and I had hit it off. Over the years we’d become friends, and Thea loved nothing more than to share “Scott stories” over cocktails. At some point I’d asked her to stop because the more I learned about Scott, the more it turned my stomach.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I stepped into the hotel lobby wheeling the overnight bag I always kept at the office for emergency trips and headed for the front desk. My head was spinning from all that had transpired, and a hot shower and cool sheets would go a long way to fix that. A good night’s rest would give me the strength to face…whatever it was I was facing.
And whatever it was, it was going to be handled either way. How could I possibly convince the board of directors that I was the right person to fill Frank’s considerable shoes, able to run a Fortune 500 company with subsidiaries all over the world, if I couldn’t manage one overgrown, spoiled manchild.
The back of a very large cowboy caught my eye as I strolled past the lobby bar. He must be a cowboy. Who else would wear one of those corny checkered shirts with a tooled belt? Despite the fashion emergency, I couldn’t help admiring broad shoulders that tapered down to a lean waist. A muscular butt that perfectly filled out the faded Levi’s he wore. This man did not neglect his squats.
It had been a long time since I’d admired a man’s body. Too much work. Not enough time to daydream. Maybe it was the crisp clean air clearing out my clock that made me notice. Maybe this three-day trip would do me some good. Minutes later I was sliding my keycard in the door of my south-facing room. The bed was a fluffy masterpiece that put a smile on my face. I had a feeling I’d be dreaming about cowboys tonight.
Chapter Three
Scott
She stood at registration looking at her phone as she spoke to the girl who worked behind the desk. She was taller than I remembered. More beautiful too. Bringing the IPA bottle to my lips, I tried to act casual about spying, to be as inconspicuous as much as any guy measuring six foot three and two hundred and ten pounds could. Though, I didn’t think she’d recognize me that easily. Last time she’d seen me, I was carrying party weight, the telltale sign of too much booze and too little exercise. No facial hair either.
Jimbo had called from the airport as soon as the Blackstone company jet landed. I had eyes and ears everywhere. The permanent residents of Jackson Hole were a close bunch. After that, it didn’t take much to track her down. There was no doubt where Little Miss Junior League would be staying. Which is how I ended up in the lobby bar of the Four Seasons, doing recon on the wannabe Mrs. Blackstone.
Sweet Jesus, was this really happening? Darth Vader’s voice clamored in the back of my mind and a clammy chill rippled over my skin.
“Hey, handsome.” A familiar female voice yanked my attention forward. Misty’s smiling dark eyes met mine while she wiped down the bar. Misty with her curves for days and laughing eyes and curtain of black hair. My kind of woman. We’d hooked up a few times, but she was more wary of repeat performances than I was, so it never went past a few casual encounters.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” she said, smiling coyly.
Misty had always been an easy read for me and right now her eyes questioned whether I was there for a hookup. The last time had been several months ago, seven to be exact, when calving season started at the Lazy S. I’d barely had time to shower and sleep from March to September. And with the new turn of events, I definitely was not here for that purpose now. Another wrinkle that needed to be ironed out with my new bride. I figured we could come to some agreement; both get what we needed elsewhere as long as we kept it discreet. Regardless, I liked Misty a lot and treating the situation with care was paramount.
Finishing my beer, I placed the bottle down gently and leaned forward, elbows on the bar as I rubbed the lingering shock and confusion off my face. “Ryan wanted to meet for a drink, but I’m getting the impression I’m being stood up.”
I hadn’t told a single soul yet. Not Laurel. Not Ryan Sutter, my best friend and ranch manager. Not even Devyn. Though she’d be my first call tomorrow. First, I needed to talk to Sydney, feel her out. Then I’d decide how to proceed.