Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“Cash would, yeah.”
“They’d be so happy for you.” Ryder pounds my back. “Mom and Dad. And Garrett. I’d like to think they’re rooting for us all from up there in the sky.”
I like that idea too.
Who knows what happens to us when we die? I do know, however, there’s real power in believing your people—past, present, future—have your back and are making shit happen for you behind the scenes.
I feel Mom’s presence as I prepare some chicken salad for lunch before moving to the pork chops we’ll be having for dinner. Know Garrett’s in the room when I turn on my favorite Brooks & Dunn album, singing along while I chop shallots and try not to cry again. And Dad—
Dad is everywhere too. As I cook, I think about how he handled meeting his in-laws—my grandparents—for the first time. Apparently it took a minute for Mom’s family to warm up to him, a hardscrabble rancher who talked a big game about keeping his family’s legacy alive on the property they’d owned for generations.
I think about him scooping one of us up and putting us in front of him in his saddle every damn day. Rain or shine, he was gonna teach us everything his daddy taught him about working cattle and raising a family.
Can’t wait to teach my baby the same.
I look up from sticking a toothpick in the cornbread and nearly have a heart attack when I see the time on the clock above the stove. Shit, Wheeler’s parents are due to arrive any minute.
I jam my best hat on my head and hop in my truck. The New House is quiet when I let myself inside and head for Wheeler’s makeshift office, where she’s pretending to work. I know she’s pretending because she keeps typing the same sentence over and over again on her computer, then hitting the delete button every time.
“Think it’s quittin’ time, Blue.”
She whips around in her chair, her expression relaxing when she sees me. “He—hey, cowboy.” Her eyes rake over my Stetson, white button-up, and Wranglers, stopping when they reach the boots I’m wearing.
Her face lights up with a smile. “Our Country Boots. Nice choice.”
“I know. Can’t wait to show ’em off to your mama and daddy.”
Wheeler’s expression falls. “At least one of us is excited to see them.”
Frowning, I close the distance between us. Lean down to kiss her mouth. “You not feeling great?”
“You smell good.”
“I got important people to meet.”
Her lips twitch. “And one important person, I mean thing, to do.”
“Don’t tempt me, Blue.” I tilt my head and feather my lips over her throat. “Last thing we need is your parents walking in on you yellin’ my name.”
She puts a hand on my chest. “At least then they’d know how much I like you.”
“Or they’d think you’re using me for my body.” Straightening, I adjust my belt.
Closing her laptop, Wheeler stands. She goes up on her toes to tap my hat. “That’s the only thing I’d ever use you for. Well, that and your perfect—”
“Company’s here!”
We both glance toward the door at the sound of Patsy’s voice.
“Look at me, Wheeler.” She does as I tell her. I take her face in my hands. “You and me—we’re gonna be just fine, regardless of how the next forty-eight hours goes, all right?”
Blinking, she nods, curling her hand around my wrist. “I know. I also know I keep apologizing in advance for whatever comes out of my dad’s and brother’s mouths—”
“Good thing I’m not easy to offend.”
“They’ll find a way, trust me.”
Wheeler lets go of my wrist. I grab her hand. “C’mon, we got good news to share. Remember that.”
She brightens a little at that. “Yeah. Yeah, it is good news. I just hope you don’t fall out of love with me after meeting them.” She motions to the door.
“Ain’t gonna happen, Blue.”
She must know I mean that, because she squeezes my hand.
Together we head out to the front hall. My heart pounds, but I keep my footsteps steady in the hopes it keeps Wheeler steady too.
Patsy is at the door. “Y’all excited?”
“Trying to be,” Wheeler replies.
“Aw, honey. It’s going to be a nice visit.” Patsy reaches for Wheeler’s arm. “Not to toot our own horn, but Lucky River Ranch’s hospitality is second to none.”
I nod. “She’s right.”
“I’m not as much of a city girl as Mollie is,” Wheeler replies, “but I wouldn’t say I was a fan of the country. Then I came here, and now—”
“You’re one of us.” I bring her hand to my lips. “We’ll win every last one of ’em over, you’ll see.”
I just wish I felt as confident as I sound.
CHAPTER 33
A Can of Whoop Ass
Duke
Holy shit, Wheeler looks exactly like her mom.
That’s my first thought.
My second: Who the fuck is the asshat in the pink polo and boat shoes?