Crazy Heifer Read online Lani Lynn Vale (The Valentine Boys #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Valentine Boys Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
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I burst out laughing.

“Thank you for that,” I teased. “I would’ve hated heading out to a hardware store with boob sweat.”

His face flushed. “I just…”

I snickered. “I know what you just. Go, I’ll wait in the car like a good little girl.”

His eyes took me in, then he shook his head. “I wouldn’t call you a girl. Quite far from it, actually.”

With that, he took off while gently slamming the car door closed behind him.

I flushed to the roots at his veiled comment.

Holy hotness, Batman!

Had Callum Valentine ever shown me any desire before Mal, I would’ve jumped all over him like white on rice.

However, I was a smart woman. I’d already been burned once. There was no burning ever again—at least when it came to an attractive man.

And Callum Valentine was the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life.

Even his older brother, Ace, wasn’t nearly as attractive as Callum.

I didn’t know what it was about Callum, either. His magnetism. His sex appeal. His smile or the look that came into his eyes when he spoke to me.

All I had to do was turn my eyes to him, and I started feeling strange.

“Whew.” Callum fell into my car, startling me. “It’s cold.”

I licked my lips.

“Very cold,” I agreed. “It’s supposed to drop into the twenties tonight. Hey…”

He looked over at me while also pressing the button to start my car.

“Yeah?” he rumbled.

“Do you think when the news people say bring your pets inside, they also mean farm animals?” I questioned.

Chapter 6

I might look like I’m listening to you, but in my head I’m thinking about a nap.

-Callum to Ace

Callum

When I’d seen her come inside the gym in a rush this morning, looking pissed as hell, I’d felt something deep inside of me shift.

Change somehow.

I wasn’t sure what had changed at this moment in time, but I know that the idea of her having to deal with Mal in a place that was supposed to be safe to her had really, really pissed me off.

So much so, in fact, that I’d found myself volunteering to go to her place when I had miles of fence to run with my brother.

Banks was going to be pissed, but he’d get over it.

“You want to know if farm animals count as pets?” I asked. “Or do you want to know if I should be telling you to bring your backyard cow inside?”

Her lips twitched as I accelerated out of the parking lot and to her house.

I knew exactly where she lived because I’d done a few summer jobs for the Scryvers back when I was a young kid looking to make a few extra bucks.

My mother had realized that the only way her kids were going to get anything good was to pay for it themselves, so she approved me having a job so young.

The Scryvers were also one of the only people that would be willing to hire a kid to bale hay and mow their back pasture with their tractor without first questioning my father to see if it was okay.

“Yes,” she said. “I have eight chickens in a pen outside my door, and I want to know if I can leave them in their coop tonight, or if I should move them into the garage or something.”

I thought about that for a second.

“They have an enclosed coop?” I asked.

She nodded once.

“Then I’d just leave them. They’re animals. If it was going to be in the negatives and snowing, I’d definitely suggest possibly bringing them inside, but since we live in Texas, and it’s only going to be in the twenties for a short amount of time, then I wouldn’t worry about it,” I answered.

Her shoulders drooped.

“Or, if you want to bring them inside, bring them inside. It’s not going to matter any. Other than you not having anywhere to put them,” I explained.

She seemed to perk up at that.

“You like your chickens?” I guessed.

She smiled then.

“Yeah,” she answered honestly. “I do. I got them after Mal left. He never wanted chickens. Said they were nasty. And they are gross—or can be—but mostly I enjoy the hell out of them.”

“Chickens are fun,” I agreed. “Until you start getting a shit ton of them like we have, then they just become work.”

I pulled around the last bend in the road that led to her house, and she pointed at her driveway.

“That’s my gate,” she said.

She reached up and opened the gate with her garage door opener, and I pulled to a stop just inside the gate.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m going to change this code, too,” I answered. “Bring that opener here and we’ll get it fixed up.”

She did, standing next to me, slightly shivering as the sweat started to dry on her clothes.

The wind really was brisk, and with the cold front blowing through and the temperature already dropping, it would only be a matter of time before I’d need a jacket myself.



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