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)
For a second, I just stare at her. Stuck-up City Girl is actually offering me help?
She’s being thoughtful? Kind, even? Same as she was with Patsy this morning in the kitchen and the other day with Wyatt and Sawyer in the barn?
“There are some picnic blankets I was hoping to find,” I say.
“I’ll poke around.”
I turn my head. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch. I just wanna see some babies of the human and goat varieties. Go shower, Cash. Now.”
“You sure you got that?” I nod at the juice and the Goldfish.
Rolling her eyes, she steps around me. “Jesus, that smell.”
I hop in an ATV and hit the gas. Ten minutes later, I’m back in the ATV, showered and pulling a fresh shirt over my head.
The barn is a hive of activity when I pull up. My chest swells at the sight of ten tiny three-year-olds crowded around the nearby corral, where Wyatt put the goats and their babies. Parents stand nearby, sipping on glasses of Patsy’s lemonade.
Lemonade that—holy shit—Mollie appears to be pouring for our guests. She scoops ice into glasses and then fills them, handing them out to parents and ranch hands while she chats them up.
“What are you doing?” I ask her.
She glances up at me as she dumps ice into a glass. “You showered. Good. You smell better.”
To be honest, I feel better too. The perpetual grit I have in my eyes from not sleeping feels slightly less sandpapery after a quick rinse.
“What are you doing?” I repeat.
Mollie’s eyebrows snap together. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m bartending.”
“You got booze back there?”
“No drinking and riding allowed.” Her lips curl into a smirk as she pours lemonade into the glass. “Kids are having a ball.” She holds out the glass. Like me, it’s already sweating in the morning heat.
“Did you poison it?” I eye the lemonade.
“Take a sip and find out.”
“Would that be murder or manslaughter?”
Mollie lifts a shoulder, her eyes on mine. “Neither. I cover my tracks.”
“You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.” I take the lemonade, the cold pressing into my hand.
“Nice Brooks & Dunn reference. But no, I most certainly will not miss you.”
I sip my lemonade. Just the right balance of tart and sweet and cold enough to make me feel a shade short of overheating. “You like Brooks & Dunn?”
“I fu—” She glances at the kids nearby. “I freaking love Brooks & Dunn. They were my first concert. My parents took me.”
I search her eyes over the rim of my glass. “Your dad said it was a thrill, dancing with you to ‘Boot Scootin’ Boogie.’ He got y’all first-row tickets, didn’t he?”
That gives her pause. She blinks, swallowing. “My dad told you about that?”
“He was so proud you liked country music as much as he did. Man had tunes on day and night.”
She blinks again, lips twitching into a tiny smile. My pulse skips. I’m not sure why I’m sharing this with Mollie. I still think Garrett deserved better from his only daughter.
Then again, no one deserves to lose a parent.
No one deserves to see their parents go through a divorce. Can’t imagine how much that must’ve sucked for Mollie. My friends whose parents split, their lives were totally upended. For her to go through that so young—
“I also brought you this.”
I stare at the foil-wrapped item she holds out. “More poison?”
“Ha. No. It’s a fried chicken sandwich. Found it in the fridge.”
My pulse skips again. “How’d you know I was hungry?”
“Gave you the benefit of the doubt and assumed you were hangry back at the house.”
I take the sandwich. “Thank you?”
“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be in the ground already. Except for your head. And your hands. I’d toss those in the river.”
Laughing, I unwrap the sandwich and take a giant bite. Dang, that’s good. “Exactly how much Yellowstone have you watched?”
“Enough to know my way around dismemberment.”
“This sounds fun.” Wyatt appears at my elbow, empty lemonade glass in hand. “He hangry again?”
Mollie eyes me as I go to town on my sandwich. “I’m starting to think he’s always hangry.”
“That’s because I don’t have time to eat,” I reply, mouth full.
Wyatt rolls his eyes. “I don’t see you wasting away.”
“I don’t see you helping out with the kids.” I nod at the corral. “Where’s the foal?”
“Up your—”
“I’ll help.” Mollie loops her arm through Wyatt’s. “I’m terrible with adult animals, clearly, so maybe I’ll have more luck with the baby ones.”
Wyatt grins. Are they gonna be buddy-buddy now? And why does that piss me off so much?
“To be fair, Maria’s been skittish since your daddy passed,” my brother says.
A shadow flickers across Mollie’s face. “Sounds like a lot of us miss him.”
“He was a legend.” Wyatt pats the hand she’s got on his forearm. “You got a good name, Mollie.”