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)
“Just because I’m your little brother doesn’t mean you’re my boss. So, pull out the stick that’s wedged in your ass and worry about yourself,” I snap at him, walking back over to the metal pipes and cement mix.
Looking over my shoulder, I see Dylan is curled over laughing his ass off.
“Shut up, asshole!” I yell back at him.
He quickly runs and catches up with me. “You started it by bringing up Mallory.” He slams his shoulder into mine.
I smile, not denying it. I live to give him shit about her. Mallory’s the epitome of a snobby, rich girl who thinks she’s a Southern belle who’s above being nice to anyone who works for a living. Yeah, I didn’t exactly like her, so I bust his balls about her every chance I can. Getting tackled and caught by Evan? Totally worth it.
“Well, you know how cranky Evan can get sometimes. He’s probably gonna tell Dad we were fucking around again. Asshole,” I say. “Maybe if he got laid every once in a while, he wouldn’t be such a prick,” I mutter under my breath, shaking my head.
“Mr. Bishop doesn’t care as long as we get our work done. You know that,” Dylan reminds me, and although he’s right, Dad won’t think twice about putting me in my place if he thinks I’m not doing my fair share around here.
“So anyway, before I was rudely interrupted.” Dylan snickers, glancing back at Evan as we pick up another bundle of pipes. We carry them across the way before dropping them on the ground, causing a loud clang.
“Since the trip is for two, I thought you could come with me,” he says, shaking out his arms from carrying the heavy iron.
“Wait, hold up,” I say, stopping him from continuing and furrowing my brows. “You want me to go on a romantic two-week getaway with you?” I ask, glancing over at Evan who’s painfully holding back a smirk. I narrow my eyes at him, then turn my attention back to Dylan.
“Well, it won’t be a damn date, cowboy hotshot, because honestly, you ain’t my type. However, considering the trip is free and bound to be crowded with single girls, I thought we could go together. Plus, I ain’t got nobody else to take, so if anything, come be my wingman. Help me find a woman.” The corner of his lips curls up, and I know exactly what he’s thinking. “Partaaaay,” Dylan adds, confirming my thoughts as he waves his cowboy hat above his head and dances in place.
Shaking my head, I laugh at his antics, but before I can give him my answer, Evan clears his throat.
“You two ain’t going nowhere till this fence is built. I can promise you that,” he snaps, adding himself to our conversation.
“Worry about yourself. Dig your holes and mind your business,” I snap. “Shouldn’t you be at the hospital saving some lives or somethin’? You’re slowin’ us down anyway.”
Evan huffs, knowing he hates when I bring up his job at the hospital. It’s a reputable career, and I know he’s worked hard to become a doctor, but he’s the first male Bishop in decades to pursue something outside of the ranch life. I wouldn’t be doing my Bishop duties if I didn’t feed him shit about it every chance I got.
“Keep runnin’ your mouth, I’m going to be takin’ a life today.” He directs his eyes toward Dylan. “Maybe two.”
The rest of the afternoon passes by quickly. As I drive us back to the main house, my shoulders tighten from driving poles into the ground and dumping cement nonstop for hours. Dylan and I are exhausted, but we’ll be working on that damn fence for the rest of the week. Quite honestly, I’m still salty that I have to work on it in the first place, and it’s all because of Jackson.
A few months ago, he threw a huge party, which quickly got out of hand when he started driving around in his Jeep. He’d been drinking and being more of a dumbass than usual when he decided to go off-roading and lost control, slamming straight into the barbwire fence. The next day, we spent the whole damn morning rounding up the cattle that escaped. Jackson was the only one amused by the whole situation, said it was the best one-eighty turn he’d ever done in his mud-covered Jeep.
Dumbass. Although according to Mama’s gossip, he got plastered because of a girl. I highly doubted it because Jackson Bishop didn’t do serious relationships—or relationships at all—but then she mentioned Kiera’s name. It all made sense once I heard that, and I forgave him just a little.
Kiera Young and Jackson have known each other since they were babies. Her parents and ours were friends, and we’ve spent a lot of time on their ranch just as much as she has on ours. She was like an older, annoying sister to me, but not to Jackson. He’s always had a thing for her but never grew the balls to admit it or even tell her. We all know she feels the same, but she continues to date other guys, pissing Jackson off and causing him to drink and act a damn fool. They’re both too stubborn and continue this vicious cycle of denying their feelings.