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)
At least that’s what I tell myself when I paste on a smile and say, “Okay. Sure.”
CHAPTER 20
Cash
HELL IS A DANCE FLOOR
Driving past the New House, I hit the brakes when I see an unfamiliar truck parked out front.
Taking in the pristine chrome wheels and king cab, my stomach dips. “Who does the pavement princess belong to?”
In the passenger seat, Ryder shrugs. “No clue. Just seeing it now too. Maybe Mollie has a visitor? Fancy truck. Looks like someone from Dallas.”
“Why did no one tell me we had a visitor? I’m supposed to know these things.”
“Because we were out all day with you, jackass.”
I’m gripped by a sense of unease. The truck is a Denali. Current model, like Mollie’s Range Rover. And like the Rover, this is a six-figure vehicle.
One that’s clearly never seen a day’s work outside. I’d bet my life savings that the guy who owns it either parks it in his deck at work or at his country club in the suburbs.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Mollie does have a boyfriend.
Maybe he’s the kind of douche who spends his money on a truck he absolutely doesn’t need.
Why would he come now, though, long after Mollie left Dallas? She were my girl, I doubt I’d be able to go a single night without her in my bed. Nothing could keep me away from her.
Nothing.
What excuse does this asshat have? And why did Mollie buy it? I fucking hate the guy already.
“We should get goin’.” Duke yawns in the back seat. “Band starts soon, and I ain’t got much gas left in the tank.”
It’s Friday night. End of another long, hot week. Clouds rolled in earlier this morning, giving the boys and me a much-needed break from the sun. Still waiting on the rain, though.
The herd kept us busy well past lunch today. I’m beat.
But here I am, driving my brothers and me the fifteen minutes into town for some cold beers and live music.
I tell myself I got a second wind because the weather’s turning and fall is my favorite season on the ranch. It has nothing to do with the fact that Mollie might be out tonight, which means I might get to dance with her again.
Absolutely nothing. I couldn’t care less where she is. Hell, I don’t even have her number. Not like I could text her, ask her if she’s coming. If her boyfriend’s here, she probably wants to hang out with him at the house anyway.
I don’t realize I’m holding the wheel in a death grip until Ryder clears his throat. “Don’t break it, man.”
“It’s probably just a friend of Mollie’s,” Wyatt says from beside Duke in the back. “She’s been away from home for a bit.”
“Yeah.” Duke glances at Wyatt. “Girls can drive pickups too. Maybe she, like, borrowed it from her parents or something? You know, for the drive to the country.”
Wyatt nods. “Exactly.”
I meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. They gleam, kindness and understanding written all over his expression.
But there’s nothing to understand, I want to yell. I’m fine. So what if it’s her boyfriend? I don’t care.
I don’t want to fucking care. Because caring—
That’s how you get your heart ripped out.
That’s how you get hurt. And I’ve had enough hurt to last a lifetime.
Wouldn’t Mollie tell me if she had a boyfriend? But why would she? We’ve had intimate conversations about dreams and family and grief, but we’ve never talked about our romantic lives. Seems strange now that I think about it.
And not strange at all, because she’s my boss. Garrett’s daughter. I need to show them both the respect they deserve.
I also need my brothers to stop looking at me like I have two heads.
Hitting the gas, I turn up the radio. The breeze blowing through the windows is refreshingly cool. “Just wanna make sure it ain’t her lawyers or some shit. Or a buyer.”
Because that’s what Mollie said she would eventually do—sell Lucky Ranch to the highest bidder. She could be starting that process already.
Although there’s a tug in my gut that tells me that’s not it. Mollie’s been with me all week, and not once has she mentioned a potential buyer. When would she have the time to find one? She’s as tuckered out as the rest of us at the end of the day.
“Maybe.” Ryder hangs his arm out the window.
“If it’s not a buyer,” Wyatt says slowly, “and if she’s out tonight with this friend of hers, you’re gonna be all right at The Rattler, right, Cash? I just rode into town today to collect my winnings. Best week I’ve ever had. I’d hate to lose that income if there’s, er, trouble and Tallulah decides her feelings on us Rivers are lukewarm at best.”
I yank my baseball cap off my head and put it on backward. “Why wouldn’t I be all right?”