Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 133849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
He’d been fishing and happy, but lately the idea of never having an acknowledged girlfriend bugged him.
He wasn’t that sad-sack kid who simply wanted to get through a day without a beating. He’d conquered a lot of his insecurities and fears. He’d conquered college and veterinary school and had a damn fine job he was proud to do.
That should count for something.
Josh was staring at him. “I’m so curious what’s going through your head right now.”
“I’m tired of being the dirty secret.”
A big smile lit Josh’s face. So often people viewed him as a younger version of Jack without ever considering how much influence Sam Fleetwood had on him. There was a joy in Josh.
Sometimes Grim thought he was more like Jack in that way. Cautious. Willing to feel happiness but always on the lookout for something crappy to happen.
Josh slapped his arm. “That’s what I wanted to hear. Good. We’re farther along than I thought we were. So let’s get out there and let Willow Fork know we’re not playing anymore. Josh and Grim are serious about taking a sub.”
Yeah, they would have to explain that, too. Hello, gorgeous girl. Would you like to date two guys and also submit to them sexually in the bedroom? The good news is we both know how to do laundry.
Sam and Jack had insisted he know despite the fact that the big house had a housekeeper. They’d explained when he and Josh were on their own, they wouldn’t have a person hanging out who wanted to clean up after them.
The first time Abigail had walked into the apartment he and Josh shared during college, she’d taken the whole weekend to teach them how to clean. And how to get what she’d called “that smell” out.
Now he and Josh had a cleaning schedule for the small house they lived in on the ranch’s land. Olivia had a suite in the main house but spent a lot of her time either on the road or in the apartment they all shared when they were in Dallas.
When they were in Austin they stayed at Subversion. Their memberships included a nice suite of rooms.
He’d paid for his own membership. To an elite sex club.
Yeah, he’d come a long way.
Could he go all the way? Could he get the life he wanted?
The only question was how did they get started? They needed to game plan. A long, slow seduction was called for. They could go into the café tomorrow morning and start up a casual conversation with her. Flirt a little. He could manage some charm. Maybe they could ask her out to lunch. That could be a nice way to ease her into starting to think about having a relationship with them. They would take their time and get to know each other before they got into a situation that could get serious.
Josh slid out of the cab of the truck.
Which was odd since they were planning on heading back to the ranch. “Uh, did you feel the sudden need to line dance?”
Josh settled his hat on his head. “There’s no time like the present, and our potential sub is walking into a honky-tonk all by herself.”
He looked over and sure enough Nicole was standing in front of a station wagon that had seen way better days since Grim was pretty sure they didn’t make those anymore. “Is that Trista’s grandma’s car?”
Josh’s lips quirked up. “Didn’t you hear? She’s started her own taxi service. All the ride shares turned her down since she’s nine hundred years old and probably shouldn’t be driving, but she swears she’s saving up for a sportscar.”
So Nicole had already made one poor choice this evening. “You think she’s meeting someone here?”
Josh shrugged. “I know she’s not serious about anyone, so even if she is I think we should give her choices. Come on, brother. I suddenly feel the need for a beer.”
Grim followed his brother.
Their slow seduction had just gotten a whole lot faster.
* * * *
Nicole stepped out of the station wagon.
“You sure you want to go in there, hon?” the elderly woman who’d introduced herself as Gwen asked. She had a helmet of blue-gray hair and a sweet smile.
She also had a lead foot. “I’m not going in to party, Miss Gwen. Sometimes they let me work a shift. Or at least help clean up. I’m saving to get my car fixed.”
She fished out the seven dollars the ride cost. Yup. She needed her car. Still, she added a couple of bucks because tipping was karma, and she could use some.
What she didn’t tell the nice lady who’d driven her out to The Barn was that she didn’t want to sit in her musty motel room where she was fairly certain her “neighbors” were cooking meth and those two creepy guys came around at least twice a week to ask her if she’d found Jesus. In that motel? No. But as they were ones who called women whores for wearing pants, she was pretty certain neither of them had met the Lord’s son either.