Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
They were always polite to Rachel Harper, and mostly to Rye. Max would be a new experience.
Brooke looked up as they approached the table, and her eyes went wide. Not scared wide. Nope. Her eyes were like a kid in a candy store, and she was wondering how much she could eat before someone stopped her. Her breath seemed to catch, and she bit her bottom lip.
“Miss Brooke,” Shane said with a tip of his hat. “Good to see you again. Mr. Harper. Mr. Harper.”
Max turned like a hawk scenting prey. Oddly, so did that baby boy in his arms. Father and son both stared at them with narrowed eyes. “You two. What are you doing here?”
“We came into town to pick up some parts for the mower. We’re clearing the back field for hay,” Bay explained, and didn’t even say a damn thing about how Max could use a haircut or how he should understand because he was so old he could probably use a few new parts, too.
Max frowned. “Yeah, it’s getting to be that time. You boys should head back to the G.”
Shane nodded his way. “Will do. Miss Brooke.”
“Just Brooke,” she said in a breathy tone, and then she seemed to realize how she’d sounded. She shook off the sex-kitten voice and sounded more normal. “It’s nice to see you, Shane. And Bay.”
Rye Harper sipped his coke and looked from his sister then back to them. “Shane, could you tell Trev we got Beth’s saddle in? I’ll bring it out for our session tomorrow.”
The boss’s wife had ordered a custom saddle for her riding lessons. She’d driven her husbands a little insane by requesting the Harper brothers teach her instead of one of them. Rye Harper had been coming out for a couple of weeks, teaching her how to ride and take care of her gentle mare.
“Will do, sir. Have a nice day, Brooke. It’s good to see you in our town again,” Shane said.
“Hey, what do you mean by our town?” Max asked, and Shane could have sworn the baby nodded as though he wanted to know, too. The kid was the spitting image of his dads, with golden brown hair and serious eyes. “You boys are going to be out of here by summer, right?”
Bay simply tipped his hat Brooke’s way, giving her a slight smile. “Y’all have a nice afternoon.”
“And what the hell did he mean with that bullshit mister stuff,” Max was saying as they started out the door.
“I do believe we call that a polite hello,” Rye replied with a chuckle.
“Those two assholes are planning something,” Max declared.
His brother looked back as he walked through the door. “Told you.”
Shane wasn’t listening. He was aware that Brooke watched them. The whole way.
They had their shot, and they were going to take it.
Chapter Two
Brooke sat back in the somewhat broke-down limo. It was more of a town car. Roomy, but certainly nothing like the limos she sometimes got to ride in when she was following the boss around. Before Mark had taken over, she’d worked for a nice woman who had been a true mentor to her. She’d treated Brooke like someone she was teaching, and that meant taking her to a lot of meetings and letting her share in the experiences.
Mark had shut that shit down and told her that her place was in the office making sure things worked well for him. He’d shrank her role to that of barista and errand girl, but hadn’t minded stealing her designs.
“Air okay for you, Miss?” Bobby asked from the driver’s seat. The seventeen-year-old had shown up exactly where she’d asked him to and had been politely on time.
She’d wanted to avoid her brothers knowing she was spending her first night home at a bar they would consider disreputable. Even though she knew when they were younger they’d spent plenty of time at Hell on Wheels.
“Bobby, you know my name is Brooke.” She knew her brothers made fun of this service the twin genius menaces of Bliss were providing, but she kind of liked it. They’d tricked out the sucker. Oh, on the outside there were a couple of dents, and the bumper was obviously from another car, but inside they’d put some lumbar pillows and installed LED lights. There was a tray with bottles of water and snack cakes straight from The Trading Post. No one in NYC would ever think to stock up on snack cakes.
They were delicious.
“I am keeping a professional distance, madam customer,” Bobby said as he turned onto the highway that would lead them up to Hell on Wheels.
She sighed. She knew how to get the kid to talk. “I already tipped you on the app.”
Yeah, they had their own app, and she was certain they’d programmed it themselves. The Farley brothers were known for two things—shenanigans and their ridiculously high IQs.