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)
Max did have some sensitive skin.
She pushed it aside as she got to the floor and faced her niece. “Paige, stop trying to kick Bay in the shins.”
Her niece was heartbreakingly adorable, with golden brown hair and eyes that looked like her mother’s. The rage was kind of her momma’s, too. But that smile she gave Brooke when she stopped her running in place was all her brothers’. “I already got him once, Auntie Brooke. My momma watches lots of stuff about cereal killers, and I ain’t allowed to watch those shows, but I can protect you. What kind do you have here? I like Lucky Charms.”
Bay’s head fell back, and he laughed and looked utterly delicious standing in the too-small living room wearing nothing but his jeans. Also, the whole place smelled like bacon, and that did something for her, too. “I love this kid. She’s weird.”
“I am not. I am normal,” Paige declared. “Also, it’s okay to be weird. Charlie and Zander are real weird, but they’re my best friends, and I ain’t going to listen to anyone talk bad about them.”
Brooke dropped down to her knees. She’d overheard this discussion last night at dinner. Everyone was supposed to help improve Paige’s grammar since she’d spent all of her formative years with cowboys. “How would Ms. Leal feel about that sentence?”
She’d learned that Ms. Leal—who could do a shot of tequila with the best of them—was considered an actual saint in the Harper house. Brooke was surprised there wasn’t a halo-around-her-head, eyes-tilted-toward-heaven portrait of Sabrina hung in a prominent place in their house.
Paige’s nose wrinkled. “They’re my best friends, and I do not want to listen to anyone speak poorly of them. See, I can say it right. I just don’t want to.”
“You give ’em hell, baby girl.”
Brooke let out a yelp and fell on her ass because she was not expecting that voice. She stopped and stared at Bay, who gave her a weak smile.
“Your brother’s here,” Bay explained in a whisper. “He showed up as Shane was finishing breakfast. We were about to wake you up, but then he took all the bacon and the kid thinks I’m going to eat all the cereal because she has not gotten to the portion of her education where she learns about homophones.”
“What?” her brother asked.
She turned, and he was sitting at her tiny bistro table. Well, his, technically, but it was supposed to be her haven while she was here. “Two words that sound alike but have different meanings. Is Rachel on a true crime kick? Good, because it will teach her where to bury your body. You are not supposed to eat that bacon, Mr. Cholesterol.”
Max sat back, his eyes narrowing. “Well, Missy, I don’t think you were supposed to have guests overnight.”
Bay had gone stiff beside her. “I did not realize that was a rule, Mr. Harper.”
Max frowned. “Don’t you Mr. Harper me, you little shit. That makes me sound like a dad.”
He was so annoying. She pointed to Paige, who had gone back to her previous occupation of whirling dervish being held back by a masculine hand. Bay was good with her. He proved he could multitask. And that he was willing to kiss ass. Which was not cool.
How many cowboys would properly point out how to use the word homophone? He was so weird, and yet it did something for her. Something he hadn’t done when she’d viewed him as a frat boy version of a cowboy. She didn’t bother to look at the man she’d spent the night with. Well, one of them. She chose to put all her feminine rage into the stare she sent her brother’s way. “You don’t apologize to him, Bay. I need Shane here because my brother is acting like we’re in Regency England, and I might have ruined my chances for an advantageous marriage.”
“Wait.” Max looked confused for a moment and then slightly outraged. “You were planning on marrying them? Girl, what is going through your head?” There was a knock from the outside and without missing a beat, Max picked up a piece of what looked like beautifully cooked bacon and then shoved it out the open window. It disappeared, and Max kept going. “I did not send you to that godawful expensive school so you could marry two down-on-their-luck cowpokes.”
“There is no marriage,” Bay said as he sighed and held back Paige, who seemed to think this was the most fun a kid ever had.
It was annoying, and somewhere deep inside she knew what she was about to say next was more about all the shit she’d been through in the last couple of weeks than it was a mad desire to walk down the aisle. She was so sick of being told what to do and what was and wasn’t cool and what to eat if she wanted people to take her seriously and how to wear her damn hair, and it was too much.