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)
“And playing pickleball. Don’t forget that.”
Her lips twitch. Am I flirting with Mollie?
Why the fuck am I flirting with Mollie?
“Y’all—oh! Oh, my goodness.”
I turn at the sound of Goody’s voice, just in time to see Maria take off at a gallop, back the way we came.
“You didn’t hold the reins?” I bite out, looking at Mollie.
She throws up her hands. “You didn’t tell me to!”
“Jesus Christ.” I take off running. “Maria! Come here, girl. Maria!”
But because the universe is apparently out to fuck me over, the mare just picks up pace as she sprints further and further away.
“I got Maria.” Goody gets back up on her horse. “Y’all stay here. I’ll be back in a jiff.”
“Goody—”
“Y’all stay, really. Don’t let a little mishap interrupt the tour.”
Before I can protest, Goody digs her heels into her horse’s sides and sets off after Maria.
I’m left stranded at the edge of a cliff with only one horse and the city girl from hell.
CHAPTER 9
Mollie
HUMP DAY
Is he going to push me?
That’s my first thought as I peer over the edge of the cliff.
My second: Should I push him first?
The drop looks bigger than twenty feet. My vision wavers, heart going wild inside my chest.
I venture a glance at Cash. He’s frowning at his old-school walkie-talkie, his horse’s reins in his free hand.
I look back over the cliff. The river meanders quietly below. It’s beautiful, bigger, and more impressive than I’d imagined. It winds like a thick, rippling rope through the rugged countryside, cutting a path lined with gently rolling hills in some spots, sheer cliffs like this one in others. Its surface glints in the sun, so bright I have to hold up a hand to shade my eyes against the glare.
It’s like something out of a movie.
Something that’s not quite as picturesque? The look on Cash’s face. Forget manslaughter. The angry, liquid gleam in his eyes, the hard set of his scruffy jaw—that’s pure murder right there.
Even now, a handful of minutes after I accidentally let Maria loose, I wince at my stupidity. Cash is so cool and calm and, yeah, fucking hot doing cowboy-type things.
Meanwhile, I’m a hot freaking mess. Literally. I think I’ve sweated through every article of clothing on my body. Socks and bra included.
I know Maria getting loose is not my fault. Not really. I didn’t know to hold her reins. But I’m mortified nonetheless. Cash has spent the last few minutes hollering into that walkie-talkie, clearly stressed.
Goody and Maria have yet to resurface.
Taking a deep breath, I move closer to the edge. Try to think about Dad instead of the idiot mistake I just made.
But my relationship with Dad—wasn’t that another idiot mistake of mine?
“Too close,” Cash barks, making me startle. “So help me God, if I have to go down there after you—”
“Sorry, sorry.” I step back, arms crossed. “This is beautiful. I get why Dad liked it out here.”
That makes Cash’s expression soften ever so slightly. “The water comes down from the mountains, so it’s cold. He liked to fish after the day was done. Great way to cool down. Get your head screwed on straight.”
I remember Dad and me taking off our shoes on the bank and putting our toes in the water. It was cold. He’d laughed as I screamed about it while splashing around in the water anyway. After a while, I watched him show me how to hook bait and cast a line in the river. I remember feeling…giddy. Happy. Like there was nowhere else on earth I’d rather be.
Usually, it’s my stomach that hurts. But right now, my chest aches more than anything. The kind of ache that spreads upward, making my throat tight.
I’m angry at Dad for not making more memories like that with me. I’m angry at myself for not opening up to him more. For not asking for what I needed from him, other than money.
So much freaking anger. Predictably, my eyes well with tears.
The crackle of the walkie-talkie yanks me back into the heat and the humiliation of the present.
“Goody just called in.” The voice sounds like it belongs to Sally. “She’s got Maria, and everyone is peachy keen. But she had something come up at work, so she had to run. Y’all are gonna have to get back on your own.”
Cash’s head falls back, baring the thick sinews of his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs on a swallow.
The man can be a grade-A asshole. But right now, I feel kinda bad for him. From my limited observation, Cash really is the go-to guy here on the ranch. People come to him with problems, and he always has a solution. I imagine that kind of responsibility, the constant barrage of interruptions, is a heavy weight to carry.
Last thing he needs is one more problem. But here I am, one gigantic pain in the ass wrapped up in a purple bow.