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)
If there was one thing she was feeling bad about it was the rift between her and her family, and that included Stefan Talbot. She hadn’t talked to her brothers in days. She’d seen Rachel when she brought the kids by to say hello and dropped them off for some babysitting. She’d been working in the theater, and Paige had given her the rundown on everything that happened during last summer’s kid production of The Little Mermaid. Apparently Poppy thought Ursula was misunderstood and probably disturbed by the amount of pollution in the ocean, and Charlie and Zander had told Paige that the actor who played Prince Eric was a poopy face, but only after Paige said he was cute. And Sierra Kincaid-Briggs had cried during the part where Ariel lost her voice so loudly they shut the show down because they were worried she hurt herself.
Rachel had looked sad even as she smiled. Tired. She looked tired and a bit lost, and that made Brooke feel infinitely guilty.
Bay leaned against the doorframe. “Well, I would have left it wherever we were. I can haul my sketchbooks around, but there’s not a lot of places to put a one-and-a-half-foot sculpture when you’re working ranches and staying in bunkhouses. We were outside of Denver at the time, and Shane insisted on calling up a gallery.”
“Four, actually,” Shane explained. “I called the first one and they hung up on me. That was when I realized I needed a good story. So I made up a bunch of crap about being a dealer from back East who’d found this amazing modern Western artist to rival Remington and Dixon. It took me a while but once they actually let us in, they agreed to sell it. Well, once they agreed to let Bay in.”
He did not take enough credit. “You were right the first time. How did you meet Stef?”
“The gallery owner called him,” Bay took up the story. “Apparently he has several gallery owners on the lookout for interesting contemporary Western artists. Stef went up to Denver the next day, bought it, and got our number from the owner. He showed up at the ranch we were working at and had a laugh that my high-powered East Coast agent was my kid brother who was knee deep in cow shit the first time they met. That was when he offered to mentor us. Me in art and Shane in the business of art.”
She knew it was more than that. “And both of you in the art of Dominance and submission?”
Bay’s lips curled up, his eyes heating. “Yeah. That, too. He got us memberships to a club in Denver, and we stayed close for a while. He would have us come out to his place and I would work, and then at night he would open his playroom. This was all before Jennifer.”
“Yes,” she replied with a wrinkled nose. “It was around the time you hit on my sister-in-law.”
Bay moved in, putting his hands on her hips. “She wasn’t your sister-in-law at the time.” He leaned over and brushed those generous lips against her own, and she felt Shane move in behind her. “What did we ask that day, brother?”
“We asked your brothers if they had a sister,” Shane whispered.
She had to laugh. “I’m sure they took that well.”
They still weren’t taking it well, but Bay kissed her and Shane’s hands found her breasts.
The world could wait. And so could work.
Tuesday
Shane held the goat gently as Noah Bennett showed Henry how to prime the needle that held the vaccine.
Noah was the town vet and happy to help teach Nell and Henry how to take care of the animals they were planning on welcoming at their new animal sanctuary.
Shane had been in the kitchen when Noah walked through and announced he could use help.
Some days it was all about where a person happened to be. The right place—since he’d been grabbing some coffee filters—and the wrong time because now he was spending the whole afternoon here with the Flanders clan and thirty-two traumatized goats. Bay probably finished up early and was already fucking their girl.
It was something they’d both gotten used to. Only yesterday Bay had a meeting with the gallery owner and Shane had gone to the theater to bring Brooke a late lunch and ended up fucking her backstage during a rehearsal. It had been hot as hell.
And then he’d gotten roped into doing a bunch of work on the set. He liked working on the set and it happened more and more. Once Cleo figured out he was handy, she’d been more than happy to give him a to-do list.
Damn, but he liked living with her. He liked everything about it, from waking up with her all sweet and sleepy in his arms, to getting her coffee because the sweet part didn’t last long and she needed caffeine, to having dinner with her. Simple things like she’d made spaghetti and garlic bread and a salad. Sitting and talking about their days, knowing he would sleep with her… It felt too good to be true.