Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Luke snorted. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a bodice-ripper fan.”
I shook my head. “You have no idea. The books are addictive.”
“Do you have a favorite author?” Rachel queried.
“A few. Scarlett Scott is one. I’m reading one of hers right now.”
“I should check her out.”
“You’d love her,” I assured Rachel. “The one I’m reading now, the hero is attempting to use the heroine for his own gain, except he falls in love and can’t go through with it, even though it would help his family.”
Luke snorted again, and I ignored him. I didn’t want to say that Hart Sutton reminded me of him. Filled with honor, hating himself for something he did, yet torn because he wanted it again. Luke would never see that and would laugh at the comparison.
Instead, I grinned at Rachel. “I’ll call Mila later.”
“Awesome.”
After the kitchen was cleaned, I went for a walk, taking some pictures and admiring the well-run farm. Rachel joined me, pointing out different buildings. “Over there, that tin roof, is where Tyler and I will live.”
“You must be excited.”
“It took us a long time to get to this point. We were friends our whole lives, but that was all.” She shrugged. “Until one day, we weren’t. I looked at him differently and he looked back at me the same way, and I realized I’d been missing what was under my nose all those years.” She sighed. “I wish my parents were around to see it.”
“I’m sure they know.”
“I am excited, but I’m worried too.”
“About?”
“Luke.”
“Ah.”
“He’ll be alone.”
“Your brother wouldn’t want to hold up your happiness,” I advised. I had already figured that out about him.
“I know. And I’ll see him every day, but it’ll be different. I just hate to think of him all alone in that house.”
“Maybe he’ll meet someone,” I offered, the words feeling thick and strange on my tongue.
She glanced to the side then back to the vista in front of her. “Maybe. I hope so. He would be an amazing partner. Loving, giving, supportive.”
I had a feeling she was trying to tell me something, but I ignored it. Neither Luke nor I was looking for a partner. He was focused on the ranch, and I had my career.
“I hope he finds the right person.”
She nodded, taking my arm. “I think he will. Sometimes we don’t see what is right in front of us until we are nudged in that direction. I might have to help him.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, and the bottom line was, I was afraid to ask. I wasn’t sure I would like the answer.
LUKE
Jesus, she was beautiful. I sat on the porch with Tyler, covertly watching Sammy as she walked with Rachel. Sammy’s golden hair was bright in the evening sun, and she was sexy as hell. Small and compact, but strong and confident. I had felt her strength, albeit not the way I would have expected, but she was dangerous when angry. She walked with an easy grace, and the sound of her laughter reached my ears. It was low and sultry, much like her voice when she begged me to fuck her.
I had to shake my head to clear those thoughts.
She was still sore, I could tell. She was slow to stand or sit, and on occasion, a grimace passed over her face. She held herself as though warding off pain, and I was shocked at the pull I felt to help her.
How, I wasn’t sure.
“You like her,” Tyler observed.
“What?” I replied, sitting back, surprised to find how far forward I had been sitting in my chair.
“Sammy,” he said, taking a sip of coffee. “You like her.”
“She’s fine.”
He laughed. “So fine you can’t keep your eyes off her.”
“Whatever,” I bluffed, picking up my cup.
“You’ve been with her.”
“What?” I sputtered around the mouthful of coffee.
“You heard me.”
I didn’t deny it. Tyler and I were friends—we’d known each other our whole lives.
“Keep that to yourself. I don’t need Rachel after me with a pitchfork. Sammy’s enough to deal with on her own.”
“Is this just a fling?”
“It was. It’s done.”
“I see.”
“An itch. It’s scratched,” I said, using Sammy’s words.
“Uh-huh.”
“Tyler,” I began.
“Yeah?” he said, an underlying tone of amusement lacing his words.
“Fuck off, okay?”
“Duly noted. But you should know, Rachel suspects.”
“Dammit.”
“Just saying. You might want to tone down the vibes you throw out when Sammy is around.”
“And what vibes are those?” I asked, sarcastic.
“My woman kind of vibes.”
“Again, fuck off.”
He laughed. “This is gonna be fun.”
Rachel appeared on the porch, Sammy behind her.
“So, the dance on Friday. You’re gonna take Sammy, right?”
I felt Tyler’s amused glance, and I feigned disinterest. “I suppose. I can drop her off anyway.”
Rachel crossed her arms, glaring. “You will take her and introduce her to people.”
“Fine.”
“Wow, I feel wanted,” Sammy muttered.
“I hate those things. All the women pushing their single daughters my way. I’m not in the market,” I stated clearly.