Wild for You (The Wilds of Montana #1) Read Online Kristen Proby

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Wilds of Montana Series by Kristen Proby
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Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
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They like her, and I’m happy about that. She spends a good amount of time with them, and if I can talk her into working full time through the summer, she’ll be spending even more time with them. So, it’s good that they want to help her and don’t give her a hard time about things.

Fifteen minutes later, I walk into the dining room and find that everyone has food on their plates, along with some salad and a piece of bread, and the other three are waiting for me to join them.

“This is fancy.” I sit at the head of the table and take it all in. Not only did I not have to do this myself, but it looks nice, and no one is yelling or arguing over anything.

“Erin said the polite thing to do is to wait to eat until our whole party has arrived,” Johnny says. “That means you.”

I chuckle and look at the woman at the other end of the table. She’s grinning and looks…happy.

“Well, I’m here, so let’s dig in.”

“Good, because I’m hungry,” Holly says as she takes a bite of her bread. Holly always goes for the bread first. She’s my carb girl.

“Johnny, you should tell your dad about what happened at school today.”

I blink at my son. “Did something bad happen?”

“No, it was good,” he says. “I got an A in math.”

I blink again and then reach over to give him a fist bump. “That’s my boy. Good job, buddy. That’s another reason for some cake.”

Dinner is actually fun, full of chatter about school and my day at work, and Erin even shares some fun stories about her customers that make us all laugh.

Finally, it’s time for cake.

“We tried to make the colors the same as the Seattle football team,” Johnny informs me. “But we got this one too purple.”

“I think it’s pretty,” Holly adds.

“Why the Seattle team?” I ask Erin, who just shrugs.

“I like them,” is all she says before taking a bite. “Oh, my goodness, this is delicious. You guys did the best job ever. I’ve never had a cake this good.”

Both kids preen under Erin’s praise, and it isn’t long before we’ve cleaned up from dinner, and the kids are ready to head up for showers. I’m relieved to have a few minutes alone with Erin.

“Thanks for dinner,” Erin says as she walks toward the door with her purse and jacket. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Don’t you want to take this cake with you? It’s yours.”

“I can’t eat a whole cake,” she says with a laugh. “You guys eat it. Share it with your parents or something.”

“If you’re sure. Hey, Erin⁠—”

I’m interrupted by Johnny yelling out, “Daaaaaaaad!”

Erin laughs. “You go. I’ll see you next week.”

I don’t want her to leave yet. I want to talk to her, the way we did by the fire last week. Jesus, I want to kiss her again more than I want my next breath. She should be living here, on the ranch. She’s here most of the time anyway.

But when Johnny yells for me again, I blow out a breath, resigned to discussing the living arrangements with her another time. “Yeah, I’ll see you next week. Drive safe.”

Erin waves, and then she’s gone, and I hurry up the stairs to the bathroom.

“What’s up?”

“I lost another tooth!” Johnny holds the small tooth in his fingers triumphantly. “Maybe I’ll get another fiver.”

I can’t help but laugh at that. My kids come up with the funniest things sometimes.

“I bet you do,” I reply and get the shower started for him. “Now, let’s get you clean.”

When both kids are clean and in their pajamas, we’re settled downstairs to watch some TV before bedtime. This has always been one of my favorite times of the day. I know that a day will come when my kids won’t want to snuggle up with me on the couch, so I’m enjoying this quiet time with them.

Suddenly, my phone rings, and Erin’s name lights up the screen. Did she forget something?

“Hello?”

“Rem?” I can hear the panic in her voice, and it has me scooting to the edge of the couch. “I’m sorry, but I’m in the ditch. I can’t get out. I need help.”

Her words come out all at once, and I glance over to see that both of my kids have heard her. Their eyes are round with worry.

“Are you hurt?” I ask immediately as I stand.

“No.” She pauses. “No, I don’t think so. But the Suburban⁠—”

“How far toward town did you get?” I ask, interrupting her.

“About halfway, maybe.”

“I’m on my way. Stay where you are.”

“I can’t really go anywhere,” she says with a forced laugh. “Please hurry.”

“I’m on my way,” I say once more, gentling my tone. “I’ll be right there.”

I hang up and turn to the kids, who are also standing in the middle of the room.



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