Tore Up (Mississippi Smoke #1) Read Online Abbi Glines

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Forbidden, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Mississippi Smoke Series by Abbi Glines
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Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
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“Wow,” I said, scanning them all.

“This over here is the current champions we have as breeding stock,” he told me, pointing to the left wall.

I walked over, and he showed me the pictures and explained the wins of each one. When he got to a picture of Baldric, he paused. Crosby was standing beside the horse, grinning at the camera. He was younger there, but not much.

A small ache came from the sight of him. His son would never know him. That was what hurt the worst.

“Baldric was Crosby’s,” Bane said. “This is his first year in retirement.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, stepping back with a smile I didn’t feel.

“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice said, and I turned to look back at the office manager. “Bane, I have some paperwork I need signed.”

He didn’t turn back to her or even glance in her direction. “I’ll get to it before I leave,” he replied.

Her smile was tight, but the moment he took a step closer to me, a flare in her eyes had me turning away from her. Bane pointed at another photo and started telling me about it. His hand touched my back, and I sucked in a breath. He’d never done that before. My heartbeat sped up, and I was reminded of my dream last night.

“I could bring them to you in here if you’d like,” the woman said.

“That won’t be necessary,” he replied, then kept talking to me.

I tried very hard to listen to him, but he was very close and touching me. It was difficult to stay focused.

“But—” she began, but Bane cut her off.

“Adalee, that’s enough. Leave.” His sharp command startled me.

I heard her turn and walk back out the door, but I remained tensed up.

“We will go see the horses after lunch,” he told me. “I’m getting hungry.”

I nodded, but said nothing.

Bane’s hand fell from my back. “Sorry about that,” he said.

I lifted my eyes to look up at him. Was he apologizing for touching my back?

“She’s got the wrong idea since I let her suck me off in the office,” he said with a shrug.

I guessed I knew what they’d been doing now that he’d so bluntly shared. Not wanting things to get awkward between us since I’d been enjoying today, I decided to be as flippant about it as he seemed to be.

“I imagine that happens. Those females getting all confused after getting on their knees for you,” I replied.

He stared at me for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard me right. Then, he threw his head back and laughed loudly.

I couldn’t keep from smiling. I’d made him laugh.

The water on the pond was like glass. Finishing off my wrap, I dusted off my legs, then stretched them out in front of me on the thick blanket that Bane had brought out here with us. A picnic for lunch out by a pond had been unexpected but lovely.

I asked more questions about thoroughbreds and the foal that’s late birth seemed to make him less desired. It bothered me. I was worried about the little guy. He was beautiful, and I thought he looked like a winner.

“You’re worried about the foal,” Bane said, picking up on my questioning.

I nodded. “Yes. It seems unfair that he’s judged before being given a chance.”

Bane took the plate beside me and placed it on top of his. “He will be given a chance. I was just saying that the odds aren’t in his favor. That’s all.”

I turned to him, and his eyes met mine, looking amused. I didn’t find it funny. “You don’t even call him by name. You just call him the foal.”

His brows drew down slightly. “You want me to call him by a name? Will that make you feel better?”

I shrugged. “It will help. He can’t change who he is or when he was born, but he’s just as special as the horses born in the winter.” Fighting to get noticed or to get approval was something I knew all too much about.

“Okay, well, what should we name him?”

I gaped at him. “You haven’t named him yet?”

That was even worse. The poor baby didn’t have a name. How horrible.

“No, we haven’t, but that’s common,” he told me. “He doesn’t have to have a name when he is registered. Most owners take time to decide on the name that the horse will be registered under. There are rules to the official name. But if you want to give him a barn name or nickname, then we will use it.”

I pointed a finger at my chest. “Me? You want me to give him a nickname?”

He nodded. “If you want him to be called something other than the foal, then you need to decide what that name will be.”

I chewed on my bottom lip as I stared out at the water to think. That felt like a lot of pressure. This wasn’t what I had meant when I said he needed a name.



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