Total pages in book: 296
Estimated words: 284055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1420(@200wpm)___ 1136(@250wpm)___ 947(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 284055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1420(@200wpm)___ 1136(@250wpm)___ 947(@300wpm)
Evan spends most of his time working at the hospital, but on his days off, Dad drags him out to help on the ranch. You’re still a Bishop, Dad likes to remind him, so Evan puts in his time when he can. He’s nothing more than a pain in my ass anytime he’s around. He’s years older than me, so we didn’t grow up together and bond like my older brothers did, but I still enjoy giving him hell when he serves it to me.
“Who smells like shit?” Evan asks over his shoulder as he carries the post hole digger across the way so we can get started.
Dylan glares at me. “Do you think he can really smell it?”
Bursting out into hearty laughter, I shake my head at him and throw him his work gloves. “I have ever since you stepped in it.”
I stand by and watch Evan crank the driver. When he rams it into the ground, Dylan and I begin mixing cement. After each hole is dug, we slam the six-foot pipes in the ground and make sure they’re level before adding cement to set them in place.
“So I got some good news,” Dylan tells me as he fills the hole with the rock mix.
“Yeah? Mallory wants you back?” I like to give him shit about his ex every chance I get because I warned him about her. Several times, in fact.
“Hell no. I wouldn’t take her back again.”
I glare at him in denial and snort. “That’s what you said last time,” I remind him.
“Shut up,” he fires back. “Honestly, after I found out how many times she cheated on me, I wouldn’t even fuck her with your dick,” Dylan states, laughing in disgust.
“Fuck you. My dick takes offense to that. I don’t make village bicycles a habit,” I say matter-of-factly, slamming a pipe into the ground.
“That’s ‘cause you are the village bicycle.” He chuckles at my expense, and I groan. He’s damn lucky my hands aren’t free at the moment to slap that shit-eating grin off his face. He clears his throat and tips his chin up. “Everyone with a tight pussy and big rack step right up!” he hollers, raising his arms up for emphasis. “Come and get a ride on the Wild Stallion, Alex Bishop! Six-foot something, dirty blond hair, and a smart mouth to boot! He may be a cocky son of a bitch, but don’t worry, his mama taught him right. He’ll wine and dine you before fucking you till you forget your own name! Now ladies, who’s first?”
I snort at his pathetic performance, shaking my head but not entirely disagreeing with his words. “Yeah, well, everyone knows a stallion can’t be tamed.” I smirk, lifting my cowboy hat and repositioning it on my head while Dylan rolls his eyes.
We get back to work, and that’s when I remember his announcement earlier.
“So, asshole, what’s your news?” I ask as we continue to work.
“Oh so, remember that big giveaway contest at the fall carnival last month?” he asks with a knowing grin on his face.
Narrowing my eyes, I think back on it. “Yeah, the romantic Key West getaway?”
Dylan continues to nod. “That’s the one! Guess which lucky bastard won?” He gloats.
“Don’t tell me that bastard is you?” I mock.
“Fuck yeah, it is! Two weeks all expenses paid! As long as the boss lets me take off, I’ll be packing my bags to set out into the sunset with all the beer I can drink.”
“That sounds like the most pathetic country song I’ve ever heard.”
“Sorry I don’t have a line of women waiting to jump my saddle, so I’d rather go alone than miss out on a free vacation.”
“Ya sure you don’t want to call Mallory?” I tease him again.
Dylan drops his shovel, and as soon I glance over at him and realize he’s charging at me, I start running in the opposite direction. He has the same look on his face like the time he tried to kick my ass in seventh grade when he caught me kissing his longtime crush, Summer Sanders. What can I say? She came onto me first.
Luckily, the only thing he has on me is speed. As he tackles me to the ground, I’m quick to put him in a headlock before he can throw the first punch. Struggling to get out of my grip, we both freeze when the motor of the pole digger stops. Seconds later, Evan pulls me up by my collar and glares at me.
“Dylan might not be able to take you in a fight, but if you don’t get to work, I’m going to kick your ass from here to San Antonio and back,” Evan threatens before I push him out of my way. Considering we live in Eldorado, that’s a three-hour ass kickin’, and I don’t fuckin’ think so.