Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
By the time we sit down to supper, I’m two drinks deep. But the bourbon does jack shit to ease the simmering sensation inside my skin.
The smell of Mom’s cider-braised pot roast, served with a heaping scoop of her cheesy grits, a side of carrots roasted with maple syrup, and a salad made with local greens would usually have my stomach grumbling.
This was one of my favorite dinners as a kid. As the cook in my house now, I always appreciate it when someone else makes me a meal.
But tonight, I’m not hungry. I am, however, thirsty. For something other than liquor, if I’m being honest. But I’m not being honest right now, so I tell myself I just want another drink. If only I didn’t have to drive Dean home and go through the whole rigamarole of our bedtime routine, then I’d indulge in more Pappy.
I gotta be responsible, though.
So I gulp water and hope like hell supper doesn’t last forever.
CHAPTER 9
Vibrations
COLT
“All right, y’all.” Dad takes his seat at the head of the table and raises his glass. “Since we have a special guest joining us tonight, I’d like to make a little toast.”
Because the universe is out to fuck with me, Lainey ends up almost directly across from me at the table. Her gaze glitters when it meets mine, like she knows I’m on the struggle bus.
Like she knows I’m warring with myself. Part of me is determined to dislike her. Another part finds her fascinating, and now I’m hell-bent on putting together the pieces of her puzzle.
Help. Why? Maybe I do need to get out. Get laid. It’s not like me to simmer like this.
“Lainey, we are truly thrilled to have you here. Thank you for coming all this way to help us out. As part of the legacy Paige and I will be leaving our children, this rebrand is something we’ve wanted for a long time.” He gives me a meaningful look. “My wife and I want to make sure we’ve done everything in our power to ensure the ranch remains successful for generations to come.”
It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. I want that too, Dad. I’m a father too, so I want more than anything to see the ranch thrive. But a rebrand is not at all necessary for that to happen.
It’s not at all important.
Really, though, why can’t I just…I don’t know, let Lainey do her thing and ignore her until she leaves? She won’t be here forever. And if Dad wants to waste money, that’s on him. He’s got plenty of it.
But for whatever reason, I can’t ignore this woman. She bothers me. This whole thing bothers me. And while I can tell myself that it’s because she’s a threat to our traditions, our legacy, I’m not sure anymore if that’s the whole truth.
Which invites the obvious question: What is the real reason I can’t let well enough alone?
“I’m honored to be a part of that mission,” Lainey replies with a smile. “I just hope I can do y’all’s incredible family justice. I’ve got some pretty juicy ideas, and now that I’ve got Dean’s help—”
“I can’t wait!” He’s sitting next to her because of course he is. “We’re going to draw cowboys.”
“And hopefully some cowgirls too?” Billie asks.
Lainey gasps, turning to Dean. “I think that could work.”
“That could definitely work.” The boy has stars in his eyes. It’s sickening…but also kind of cute.
“To cowboys and cowgirls.” Dad raises his glass even higher. “Maybe we’ll even make Lainey one before her time on the ranch is up.”
“Hear, hear.” Tate wears a shit-eating grin as he taps his glass to mine. “We could always use an extra pair of hands. Ain’t that right, Mr. Foreman?”
I choose to ignore my brother and instead gulp more water. Hydration is the key to health, right?
“Now, Lainey,” Dad says as he digs into his pot roast, “we have a little tradition at the dinner table—”
“Thorns and roses! Please please please, can I go first? It’s my favorite game to play.” Dean raises his hand. “I got a good one.”
Lainey is still all smiles. “I like to play games too.”
I bet you do.
“You’ll love this game. It’s so fun,” Dean replies.
Mom chuckles. “Of course you can go first. Tell us what your thorn this week was.”
“A thorn is the worst part of your week—something that made you sad or that was bad,” Dean explains.
“Right.” I scoop some grits into my fork. “Because talking about that stuff makes us feel better.”
I feel Lainey’s eyes on me when she says, “Opening up is always a good thing. Some of us could probably use some more practice doing it, though, huh?”
Mack cackles. A literal fucking cackle.
I’ll stab you, I tell him with my eyes.
I’d love to see you try, he replies with his as he goes to town on his salad.