Big Bossy Cowboy – Courage County Cowboys Read Online Mia Brody

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
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Reaching for the shower spigot, I flick it on. Nothing happens for a long ten seconds. There’s only a horrible racket in the pipes then the water pours from the faucet in a sudden, forceful burst.

I reach for it and the damn thing breaks off in my hand. Water shoots at me and soaks my t-shirt. Sighing, I reach for my toolbox to grab a set of pliers to shut it off. Except that I forgot about the paint tray on top of the ladder.

When I knock the wobbly ladder, the plastic tray flips into the air. Paint rains down, hitting me in the face. There’s a blinding, burning pain in my eyes. The world is a blurry, blobby mess, and my eyes are streaming.

Cursing a blue streak, I tug off my soaked shirt and swipe desperately at my face. It’s no use. I’m damn near blind. With a growl, I step into the shower and yank on the spigot. Fortunately, the shower is still working, and water hits my face.

I turn toward it, letting it rinse my eyes just as someone demands in an angry voice, “Who are you?”

Chapter 4

Evie

Excitement thrums through my veins as I clutch the key tightly in my palm. I signed the paperwork with Martha this morning. I’m officially the first tenant in the apartment above her garage.

She ran to the hardware store and cut me a key as soon as it was done. Now it’s my lunch break and I’m taking a peek at the place. I can’t wait to show Chase and Parker the place. They’ll see that life can get better. Good things can happen to us.

Jogging up the steps, I have to pause at the top and wait to catch my breath. Exercise is a trigger for my asthma. It’s getting worse since I started halving the dose of my preventative inhaler. But it’ll be worth it once I’m settled. All I have to do is make it another two weeks then I can get my prescriptions filled again.

I do that visualization I’ve been doing since I was a kid. I imagine my lungs expanding and filling with oxygen. I know it doesn’t make it easier to breathe, but it’s a way of managing the desperate panic that invades my thoughts when it feels like I can’t breathe.

When my vision returns and I can draw in a breath a little easier, I slip the key into the lock. The first thing that greets me is the sight of plastic tarps on the floor. I slip off my shoes and glide into the room on my socked feet. This place is mine.

I can’t help the giggle that escapes. I’ve never had a place that truly felt like mine. I feel a rush of pride that I’m finally able to provide a decent living situation for my brother. Yep, life is getting so much better.

I stop in the middle of the living room when I hear the sound of running water. It sounds like it’s coming from the bathroom. Martha didn’t mention anyone being in the apartment, and this is my place now. I need to be a grownup and confront the noise.

I look around for a weapon but the only thing I have is a paint roller. Grabbing it, I square my shoulders and move down the hall. I’ll be strong and confident. I’ll confront the intruder like the independent woman I am.

With a deep breath, I slowly turn the bathroom doorknob. At least, I can have the element of surprise.

Pushing the door open, I glance around the bathroom. It’s covered in paint, a spray of droplets in the ceiling with some of it dripping from the walls.

I push in further and glance at the tub. The frosty curtain obscures most of my view, but my heart skips a beat when I realize there’s a man in the shower. A big, shirtless man. Why is he wearing blue jeans? Why is he showering here?

I use the handle of the paint roller to bang on the bathroom counter. In the deepest, angriest voice I can muster, I demand, “Who are you?”

“Evie?” The stranger calls my name.

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. This man knows my name. He knows who I am. For one wild second, I fear it’s Spencer. Then I remind myself that Spencer wasn’t nearly that big. He was scrawny compared to this fearsome warrior in my shower.

He yanks back the curtain, and I automatically take a step back, prepared to flee from the intruder. Forget being a strong, independent woman. I want a man here with me. A man with a really big gun.

My fear quickly dissolves when I realize the man is no stranger. It’s Greer. He’s here. In my shower. Squinting at me. His eyes are rimmed in red.



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