Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Then grabbing strands of tall grass, I pull off the rows of seeds as the sun descends in the distance. It seems so close, but it’s the same sun everyone in the world sees. More proof that nothing is what it seems. Happiness is as much an illusion as the intimacy of the sun setting.
My stroll takes me to the far end of the pasture, where I sit against the white fence post. Mud lies down beside me. I think he loves me more than Fletcher. He’s getting gray, and I have no doubt I’ll be more brokenhearted when he dies than when Fletcher dies. Ruthie got Mud for Fletcher. Maybe that’s why I’m partial to the old lab.
When only a pink hue is left in the sky, I stand and brush off my backside. Mud barks, drawing my attention to Milo and Ranger approaching us, slowing down as they get closer.
“It’s not a good idea for you to be out here this late,” Milo says, bringing Ranger to a halt and jumping off him. He removes his cowboy hat and rests it on the saddle’s horn.
Milo is many things, but sexy cowboy tops the list. He can rope. Brand. Herd and drive cattle. Repair fences. Hit any target with a shotgun. And scare the living bejeebers out of the ranch hands if they fall out of line. I’ve heard rumors that he’s killed people too. I used to not believe that, but now I think it might be true.
“I’ve never been a fan of good ideas,” I say.
“I know.” He steps closer to me.
I back up until the fence post stops me. Milo slides one boot between mine. He looks ethereal in the sunset’s faint residue.
“Rae went home. We ate cookies. I told her the only thing I could offer her was friendship without benefits. She’s Ty’s daughter, so I must navigate things gingerly with her.” He feathers his knuckles along my cheek. “She said you two chatted for a while.”
“Yes,” I whisper. His touch is still so new but familiar. It’s perfect, yet Fletcher has manipulated Milo’s world, tainting what we have and giving it an expiration date.
“Rae said you seemed sad. She thinks your relationship with Fletcher is strained.”
I lean into his touch, resting a hand on his chest. “What do you think?”
“I think you were sad because Rae was in my kitchen. I think you thought I’m an asshole who doesn’t care about you.”
I lift my gaze to his. “Are you?”
He slides both hands to the back of my neck and bends down, stopping just before his lips touch mine. “I’m certainly an asshole, but I care about you so much that the passing of time feels like torture.”
I rest my forehead on his chest. “Do you regret what we did last night?”
Milo’s hands disappear from my neck and skim down my arms. His fingers slide into my back pockets. “Indie, I have many regrets, but you will never be one of them. The world is a fucking dumpster fire. There’s so much hate. There’s so much judgment. I refuse to bend to anyone’s opinion. They don’t know us.”
I love you, Milo.
It hurts to swallow my emotions, but I do it because Milo is not a choice. My heart never chose him. It tangled with his years ago, and I’ll only get pieces of it back when this ends.
I glance up at him. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
His forehead wrinkles. “Indie …”
That’s my answer. Right there, in his eyes.
“I don’t care,” I whisper, lifting onto my toes and pressing my lips to his.
He kisses me. Really kisses me back. It’s an all-consuming kind of kiss. The way I imagine you kiss someone when you’re coming completely undone.
Hungry.
Sensual.
Mind-blowing.
Milo doesn’t take it a step further, but my need is a tangible pain. A clawing desire, unlike anything I’ve felt in my life.
He ends the kiss, our labored breaths swirling between our lips, making me dizzy; I’m wound so tightly I think I might explode.
I reach for his fly, but he stops me. This level of rejection is wearing on me.
Milo takes a step back and adjusts himself before sliding on his hat again. When he meets my gaze, he grins. It’s vulnerable. It’s innocent. And I pretend he only shares it with me. He only lets me see this side of him even if he won’t let me have all of him.
“Up you go, Indie girl.” He gives me a slight boost onto Ranger.
I don’t need it, but I won’t complain about his hands on my ass.
Milo climbs on behind me and guides us back to the barn with a slow gait. His lips occasionally find my neck. I love the tickle of his short whiskers on my skin. The warmth of his breath. The illusion that we are real.