Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
He smirks this time. “Not her. Though she is quite a looker.”
I playfully roll my eyes. “She gets all the studs.”
Chuckling, he tilts his head, still staring right into my eyes. “I can see why.”
My smile falters. This doesn’t feel like a conversation over a horse. It feels more like an insinuation toward me. My lips part when I realize this is Tagger Grange flirting.
He said I’d know if he was, which was no lie. I most definitely recognize the charming smile beneath eyes that appear unable to look away from me. His shoulders are relaxed and his expression untroubled. Everything about him has me feeling like a teenager again.
I wish I could take a picture. He’s my fantasy come to life, not only looking the part of how I remember him so clearly but owning the role in its entirety. But pulling out my phone to take a photo would be crossing a line, I’m sure. Though he still tempts me to do it anyway. “We’re not talking about Bluebelly, are we?”
The corners of his mouth tilt up again as he hums. He leans forward and whispers, “No, we’re not.”
“Why’d you come to the ranch today?”
The left cheek tugs upward. “I came to see you, Pris.”
“What about?”
He points into the distance, and replies, “The cost of a cart and horse to plow my field.”
“What?” I try to soften the pinch of my brows, hoping not to do more damage than the sun already has to my skin.
He laughs from the gut and shakes his head. “Is it so shocking that I just came out to spend time with you?”
I’d love to play it cool, but I’ve never been one to hide my feelings. “You did?” But did I have to sound like I’m swooning over the man? Inwardly, I roll my eyes at myself this time.
“I did. I can help where you need me. Your dad told me one of the guys is out for a few days.”
Mortification hits like a train. “He called you?” I knew it was too good to believe that he came just to see me.
“No. He just told me when I got here.”
Okay, fine. That’s the best of the scenarios it could have been. The giddiness returns and has me batting my eyelashes like a fool for him. “Oh. Right. Yes, they had a baby.”
“That’s nice.”
“They’re a sweet couple, so . . .” I let my words trail off, not sure I want to have a long conversation about this. Looking west, I think of the chores that need to get done.
He says, “I called my folks to let them know I’m helping out. They’re spending the day with Beckett, so put me to work, boss. I’m here to get my hands dirty.”
My throat goes dry. Nothing about him wanting to get his hands dirty makes me think about chores around the ranch, but my thoughts do head straight for the bedroom. Good Lord, I really need to get some action. “Um . . .” Sunrise starts stomping, her go to when she’s ready to get moving again. “I was heading up to get a bottle of water and then over to the equipment building on the far side of the ranch to work on an irrigation issue. That shouldn’t take long, but it would be nice to have company if you want to come along.”
“Lead the way.”
Glancing at the shine that reflects off the black coat of the horse, I say, “I think Nightfall will lead the way. Though I love his spirit, he prefers being in front and struggles with being a team player. It’s impressive that he let you saddle him. He’s picky.”
“So am I,” he says, reaching down to rub the side of his neck. “Maybe he sensed we’re the same.”
Both are handsome. I’ll give him that.
“We’ll be racing the sunset if we don’t get going. Five hours can fly when you’re running behind.”
“I’m ready,” he says, rubbing his palms together with the leather rein trapped between them.
“Follow the cornfield and then past the lettuce and cabbages. You’ll see the metal building.”
We ride. Sunrise lets Nightfall take the lead since he was going to anyway. She doesn’t need the glory. Never being a showy horse, she knows her worth. Gotta respect her for it.
When we reach the warehouse-style building, we dismount and lead the horses to the water, dropping their reins around the hooks. I leave my hat on the horn of the saddle and stop at the opening to the building and turn back.
I make sure to catch Tagger drop to his feet. It’s still quite the sight—his arms flexing every muscle as if they’re in competition for most cut. His ass is hidden by denim, but that doesn’t keep me from noticing the indention on the side I’m closest to. And when he lifts his hat, he swipes his fingers through his hair, sending droplets of sweat to roll down his neck.