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)
“You gotta move with the horse.” Cash nudges my backside with his pelvis. “Otherwise, you’re gonna end up getting hurt.”
It’s all I can do not to sputter as he rolls his hips, urging me to roll mine too. My scalp prickles as a wave of unwelcome desire moves through me. “Um. Ahem. I…feel like I’m humping the horse while you’re humping me.”
“No humping. Only riding.”
I hear the smirk in his voice. He rolls his hips again.
I roll mine, too, if only to lessen the intensity of the contact. “You know you’re a walking, talking sexual harassment suit.”
“I’m the guy keeping you in the saddle. Best mind your mouth.” He clicks his tongue again, and the horse picks up pace.
I don’t know who I’m riding anymore—the horse or the cowboy.
“You’d better mind your…your…”
“My what, City Girl?”
“Don’t call me—oooh!” I tilt to the side when the horse hits a divot.
Cash immediately rights me, grabbing my hand and putting it on the pommel. “Hold on tight. Tighter. Both hands. Squeeze, Mollie. Come on.”
“Do you not hear yourself?” I’m starting to panic. We’re moving so fast, and I’m so uncomfortably hot and flustered, I’m worried I really will faint.
“You’re not gonna fall.”
“Famous last words.”
Cash pulls on the reins, and the horse slows. “You all right?”
“Nope.” I swallow. “But this is better.”
“That’s because you’re doing better. Look, you’re moving with the horse now.”
I didn’t realize it was happening until I look down and see my body undulating in time to the horse’s stride.
“Maybe you are Garrett’s daughter after all,” Cash says with a chuckle. “Man could ride like nobody’s business.”
My heart spasms. Cash saw a piece of Dad that I never truly got the chance to know. The guilt I’ve been carrying around for the past three months—the regret—presses down on my breastbone.
At the same time, my pulse flutters at the fact that Cash is actually complimenting me. In a backhanded way, sure. But my chest hurts a little less at the idea I’m at all like the man I came from.
I’m undulating in time to Cash’s body too. Maybe that’s why, desperate for a distraction, I blurt, “Y’all were close. You and my dad.”
“We were.”
“Twelve years y’all worked together?”
“Yes.”
“What was that like?”
Cash’s chest presses into my shoulder blades as he inhales. “Garrett was a great boss. Great friend. Treated us fairly and with more kindness than we deserved. Most of what I know, I learned from him.”
I swallow the sudden thickness in my throat. I like hearing that Dad was good to his people. But that makes me wonder why he wasn’t all that good to me.
“How’d you end up on Lucky Ranch anyway?” I ask.
Another inhale. “After my parents died, we didn’t have the money to maintain Rivers Ranch. I was nineteen with four brothers to look after. Garrett took us under his wing, offered us jobs and a place to stay so we could rent out the house on my family’s land for extra income. Been here ever since.”
“Wow.” I swallow again, my eyes burning. “That must’ve been a lot for you.”
“Wasn’t fun. My parents were hell-bent on me being the first Rivers to go to college, but I had to drop out my sophomore year.”
My chest clenches. “That sucks.”
“We made out all right.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Is Grumpy Cowboy here a secret optimist? And really, how did he survive losing his parents? How did he not crumple when, at nineteen, he was faced with the huge responsibility of raising his brothers?
How did he feel, having to give up on his parents’ dreams? What about his dreams?
Why the hell do I care about any of this?
“Your dad”—Cash urges the horse into a trot—“he was a huge help. The five of us kept him busy.”
Too busy to take an interest in his daughter?
I blink, hard, and look out over the hills. The light has taken on an orange tinge. Nighttime, and the cooler temperatures it brings, is blessedly within sight.
This has been the longest day ever.
My insides feel mushy and sore. And my outsides—ugh, why am I not more grossed out by the way my sweaty shirt sticks to Cash’s?
“That’s why he’d theoretically leave you the ranch.” Anger feels safe. These mushy things do not. “Because you were like a son to him.”
Cash goes rigid behind me. “I don’t know what I was to Garrett. But he was a father figure to me. Showed up when I really needed one.” A pause. “I loved him.”
More anger. The burn in my eyes becomes unbearable. “I loved him too.”
Another pause.
“Losing a parent—I think that’s the suckiest thing of all the sucky shit I’ve been through.”
Cash would know. If what he’s saying is true, he’s lost every parent he’s ever known.
Doesn’t make my pain any less real. But it does put it in perspective. This guy has been through it. How can a person withstand so much and not collapse?