Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Wow,” she says, looking me up and down. I wouldn’t say she’s watching me with appreciation.
I instantly don’t like her.
“Uh, hello. Can I help you?”
“I wanted to come in and see you for myself.” She nods as she walks closer to my desk. “That Rancher ad is impressive, and I can see that they did you justice.”
What Rancher ad?
I frown up at her and purse my lips.
“Ah, you haven’t seen it yet,” she says with a smug smile. “Don’t worry, it’s a good one. Of course, Brady looks good enough to eat. He always does. That man is delicious, with a cock that makes a girl just about beg for it.”
“Who are you?” I’m no longer perplexed. Now, I’m pissed.
“Jen,” she says and doesn’t hold out her hand. “And you’re the bitch he dumped me for.”
My mind whirls and then goes back to that night before Christmas when Brady came to the house and admitted that he’d been to his fuck buddy’s place before he found his way to me.
And all I can do is grin.
He came to me.
“From what I hear,” I say as I prop my hands on my hips, “it wasn’t really a dumping. I didn’t think fuck buddies could be dumped.”
Her eyes narrow, and her lips firm in agitation before she looks me up and down again, disgust written all over her face.
“If he wanted to leave my bed and move on to a fat-ass like you, I guess that tells me all I need to know about his taste.”
Yeah, it hits the mark. But I just laugh at her again because this bitch will never see that she hurt my feelings.
“You know, it occurs to me that he stopped fucking you months ago. Why are you coming in here now? Our relationship isn’t a secret.”
Jen doesn’t lose that look of disgust. I suspect it’s on her face all the time, not just when she’s looking at me. “I didn’t buy that it would last. Then I saw the ad.”
With one last look, she spins on her heel and strides away.
As soon as the door closes behind her, I open my laptop and search for the newest ad and sit back, watching it.
I remember not long after the shoot, they set Brady up in a sound booth and asked him to record some lines for it so they could play his voice in the background. And I’m surprised to see that the ad runs for a minute and thirty seconds.
That’s a long-ass commercial.
“Here in Montana, we do things a little differently,” Brady’s voice fills the room as images from the ranch come on screen. The men fixing the fence, laughing with each other. Brady leading Blackjack around the arena, smiling up at him.
Of course, there are plenty of images of his ass in those jeans, and that makes my mouth water.
Brady doing just about anything makes my mouth water, but he looks particularly hot in this commercial.
“Family isn’t just meeting up for Thanksgiving dinner or saying hello at a wedding. Family is a way of life. A promise.”
And now, I’m choked up as Brady and his dad fill the screen, and then his siblings, all sitting on the fence line. Here at the Wild River Ranch, we take pride in our history. Of how our ancestors worked this land, long before we were here. They paved the way for us to succeed, far beyond their wildest imaginations. I like knowing that we live on the wild side here, taking what comes and not letting the small stuff bother us too much. It’s a quiet way of life that we plan to pass on to those who come after we’re long gone. With twenty seconds left to go, my tears dry up, and I stare in shock as I watch myself walk over to Brady in the arena, and he bends down to kiss me. His arms flex as they come around my waist, and he’s watching me with eyes so full of love that it takes my breath away.
I don’t remember taking his hat and putting it on my head, but I do, and now we’re laughing together.
“We live this life because we love it, who we are because of it, and those who care about us despite it. Bitterroot Valley, Montana is where my heart lives.”
The image shifts to the barn at the end of the day as soft music plays. Brady’s brushing Blackjack, then leads him into his stall and kisses his nose.
And there is my daughter, running to greet Brady. Every part of me goes cold.
“Please don’t show her face,” I murmur, watching closely. “Please, for fuck’s sake, do not show my daughter’s face.”
But she turns and smiles up at me, and there she is. For all the world to see.
For all the goddamn world to see.