Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“I promise I’ll talk with him.” She pats my chest like that’s going to make it all okay. Pushing up on her tiptoes, she grazes my cheek with her lips. “It was good, Cane. I’m coming back for seconds. Keep my side of the bed warm.”
With that, she skips down the stairs. I follow her. “Let me at least drive you home.”
“No. I need my pickup in the morning. I do have a Denison run to do. Scooter McCray asked me to come out and help him do some fencing work.”
Scooter McCray, the owner of the five cows and rooster and the rest of Denison, is a bachelor. I don’t think he is hiring Astor because she’s a hard worker, and that makes my blood boil.
“I’ll send over some hands to do that work, baby. You stick around and talk to your dad.”
She pulls open the door and trots down the porch. “Scooter pays well, and he’s always got work for me, so no, I’m not allowing you to ‘fix’ this for me.”
“Scooter just wants to fuck you, Astor.”
She spins around and glares. “You need to stop thinking with your small head, Cane. Not everyone wants to get in my drawers.”
“That’s a damned lie, and you know it. Everyone wants in your drawers, Astor. A man would have to not be a man to turn down a night with you.”
“Is it just about sex with you?”
I frown, taken aback by this. I’ve been watching over Astor for a decade, trying to do everything I could to smooth her way in life without her knowing because she’s so prideful. How could she think it’s all about sex? “Are you trying to pick a fight with me? Because there’s no way I’m going to be mad at you.”
“You’re mad that I’m going out to Scooter’s tomorrow.”
“I’m not mad at you, though. I’m pissed at how Scooter’s going to be staring at your ass in those tight Wranglers. That’s not his place.”
She waves a hand. “Lord, he is not staring at my ass. We work out there.”
“Great. I’ll come and work with you. Three hands are better than two.” I turn to go into the house because I’m only getting the last word if I can’t hear Astor.
“Don’t come. I’ll be the one pissed if you do,” she yells.
I pretend like her shout didn’t penetrate the heavy oak door and let it shut behind me. A flare in the corner catches my eye. I turn on an entry lamp to see Blake sitting in a chair next to the front window, a cigar dangling between his fingers and a bottle of Scotch at his elbow.
“Late night drinking in the dark? What demon’s haunting you?” I ask.
“I’m just debating whether having your girl leave you in the middle of the night is better than not having the girl at all,” he drawls.
The tap of his cigar against the glass tray seems extra loud as we contemplate this concept in silence.
“Better to have the girl leave you in the middle of the night,” I conclude. “You’re halfway to paradise. Not having the girl at all means you can’t even see the finish line.”
“Maybe.”
He doesn’t sound convinced, and frankly, I’m not sure what the right answer is at this point either.
CHAPTER 14
ASTOR
“You look like shit,” Scooter drawls when I pull my gloves off and stuff them into my back pocket before I take the cup of coffee from his hand.
We got the fence fixed faster than I thought we would. Sometimes I think he calls me out here to gossip more than anything. He’s not the best rancher by any means with his handful of chickens and some cows. One of which acts more like a dog. Spot is her name. She lingers close, watching us. She lets out a moo when she sees Scooter is close to me. I think she gets a bit jealous when it comes to him.
Scooter took over the ranch when his parents retired and moved to Florida a few years back. I think he only maintains the animals because he’s attached to them. He definitely doesn’t make money off this place like he could. Thankfully, he has a day job building websites. A lot of people don’t know that about him. He’s even done one for me. I don’t know why he sticks around here, but I’m not complaining. He pays well and does have great gossip.
“You’re such a charmer,” I say dryly before taking a sip of my coffee. A small moan leaves me when the rich taste hits my tongue. “Damn, you make good coffee. I didn’t sleep well,” I admit, fighting a yawn.
“I thought good sex makes you sleep like a baby.” He smirks. “Don’t tell me Cane is bad in bed. Please don’t tell me that. And even if you do, I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear you.”