Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“Mom really beat you with a spoon?” Sally wrinkles her nose.
He grins. “Only once, but I deserved it.”
“He was runnin’ across the yard, naked as the day he was born,” Patsy says. “I was right here, having my coffee, when I looked up and saw a full moon—and not the pretty kind. Only way I could get him back to the bunkhouse was by chasing him down. I just so happened to have a spoon in my hand.”
I stare at him. “Jesus Christ, Wyatt.”
“Are you surprised?” Sally says with a grin.
“Hey, I was twenty-two and stupid. Drunk off my ass. But I can reenact it for you if you’d like.” Wyatt reaches for his belt buckle.
The room erupts all at once.
“No!”
“Please, God, don’t.”
“Someone get the bleach for my eyes.”
Sally’s gaze dances when she says, “Tempting, but I’ll pass.”
“Offer always stands, sunshine,” Wyatt says. “Just say the word, and you got all the moon you want.”
“Good night, moon,” Ella singsongs.
Duke grins. “The nickname is cute, y’all.”
“No, it’s not,” I grunt.
I glance at Mollie and see her watching us, arms still crossed, her lips twitching.
City Girl’s loving this, us acting like the idiot cowboys she assumes we are.
I give Wyatt a discreet kick to the shin. Not only do I need him to behave in front of City Girl, but I also need him to cool his jets with Sally.
They’ve been friends since they were kids, so I don’t mind a little flirtation. But ever since she got back from her residency, he can’t stop looking at her. I know that gleam in his eyes. It ain’t friendly—I’ll say that much.
Casanova can have anyone else in Hartsville. Probably has. No wonder he mentioned going to Vegas; he’s probably looking for new girls to chase. But he’s gonna keep his mitts off Sally. He so much as lays a finger on her, he puts our relationship with her parents, John B and Patsy, at risk. We lose them, we lose very important allies in keeping the ranch afloat. More than that, we’d be losing family, because that’s what the three of them have become to us.
Then again, Lucky Ranch may well be in its final days anyway.
Whatever the case, I hope Sally starts hanging out with Beck Wallace a lot more and my brother a lot less.
John B claps his hands. “All right, y’all, dig in. We got a real treat today. Patsy made her famous chicken-fried steak with white gravy. The potato salad’s got eggs in it, Ryder, so you wanna stay away from that. Brownies are Sally’s recipe. No, Cash, you can’t have more than three. I think that covers it?”
I extend my arm, holding my brothers back as I nod at Mollie. My eyes slip to her legs again. They’re long. Flawless. Not a freckle or scar in sight. “Ladies first.”
When I look up, I see her eyes are narrowed.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re insulting me?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Luck. I’m just being polite. That’s how my mama raised me.” I nod at Patsy, who’s shooting daggers at me with her eyes.
There’ll be hell to pay after this. But it’ll be worth it when Mollie leaves. Someone punches my shoulder. Duke, if I had to guess.
“Excuse my brother.” Yep, it’s Duke. “He doesn’t know how to act around beautiful women. Last girl he was with—”
“Don’t.” I curl my right hand into a fist. Pray for the patience I need to handle my brothers without committing an act of homicide.
Sally loops her arm through Mollie’s and pulls her to the food. “Ignore them. Sometimes, there’s a bit of a Seven Brides for Seven Brothers vibe going on here.” She tosses me a look over her shoulder. “Some people forget how not to be heathens. They’ll get better, I promise.”
I watch Mollie pick up a plate, which she fills with a big pile of Patsy’s green beans and…nothing else. Skips the steak, the potato salad. Even the brownies, which she looks at longingly before turning away.
If I didn’t hate Mollie Luck before, I despise her now. She won’t even try the brownies? Why the fuck not? Her Pilates instructor threaten to excommunicate her or something if she eats chocolate? And what about Patsy’s steak? How rude to not even put one steak on her plate.
I’m starving, so like everyone else, I pile my plate high: two chicken-fried steaks smothered in gravy, three brownies, and plenty of green beans too.
Goody, being the consummate lawyer she is, takes over the conversation at the table. She fills Mollie in on things the owner of a ranch should already know: staff, seasons, equipment we own, equipment we lease. Goody goes around the table and has each of us describe what we do and the tasks we complete on a daily basis.
Mollie nods politely as she chews on her green beans. She doesn’t say much. Doesn’t ask any questions. A couple of times, I catch her glaring at me over the rim of her water glass.