Good and Rowdy (To Tame a Burly Man #3) Read Online Frankie Love

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: To Tame a Burly Man Series by Frankie Love

Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17588 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)

Carter is a local bad boy rancher with one hell of a reputation.
Cadence is a preacher’s daughter who has never made a mistake.
When their worlds collide, the chemistry is undeniable – but no one would believe their connection is real.
They must decide who to live for, and what’s worth a Rowdy brawl.
Carter isn’t letting go of Cadence easy. He’s fought before, and he will fight again.
Only this time, it’s for her heart. *preachers daughter
*forbidden love
*bad boy rancher
*first love
*high heat Burly is one town over from Home, WA where the Rough family lives. The Rowdy boys are their cowboy cousins. Get ready for them to lasso your heart!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



“The fuck, man?”

Here we go again. My older brother is off and lecturing me about anything and everything for the third time this month.

“I have to drag you out of the drunk tank again? Who did you punch this time?”

We’re riding back to the Rowdy ranch in his truck. Cash is strangling the wheel with his grip, just like he always does when he picks me up from the local jail.

“Only people who deserve it. Some out-of-towner giving Mitch shit about his beer not being the perfect temperature.”

“Yeah, but was punching him in the face really the solution, Carter?”

“Telling him to piss off didn’t work. So I just went right to what would.”

He shakes his head. “Goddamn, you drive me batty, brother. No one else is on a first-name basis with the sheriff like you are.”

“Clyde gets that I do what I do with good reason. He only arrests me because it is technically illegal. I’m real good at getting them to not press charges.”

“Saying you got the sheriff on your side isn’t making you out to be a better person, Carter.” Cash anxiously runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep hiding your bullshit from Dad. I don’t want to make his life any more hellish than it already is.”

I grunt. I don’t like pissing off Dad. He was never the type to beat us or anything, but the guy can look at you and make you feel far worse than an ass-kicking ever could. “Whatever. Just get me home. I have an appointment I gotta make.”

“If you have appointments to make, shouldn’t you prepare for them by not getting arrested the day before?”

I ignore him and stare out the window.

I don’t know what’s going on with me anymore. It’s a bit of... what’s that fancy French word for the advanced level of boredom?


Life’s been just... something or other.

I sort of floundered through high school. I was depressed as hell, which I guess is understandable since I lost my mother around that time. I had no ambitions for a career. I was content with just being a good hand at the Rowdy family ranch, helping Cash out in the field. My other brothers all had goals. Nelson went off to college, Williams had his machines, Jennings had ambitions of something showier.

I had none of that.

I had drinking. A whole lot of it. The past half decade of my life has been incredibly dull, and I’ve been looking for some outlet. Mostly? That comes in the form of fights. I find someone who deserves it. I either smack them down unopposed or I get into a scuffle. Either way, the adrenaline gets pumping for a night, and I’ve slept in rougher places than the drunk tank.

Women, hunting, fishing? They all do nothing for me. I’ve tried it all, looking for a way to fill the hole in my life.

We pull up at the ranch house. I get out without a word.

“I worry about you, man,” Cash says from the truck. “You’ve got some issues. I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t open up.”

“Not your problem, Cash.”

“You’re my brother. You are my problem. I’d rather you speak up now than us catch you fighting a literal bull again just because you’re out for a thrill. One slip-up and you got a horn through your gut doing that.”

“I do that one time,” I say as I march away, “and I never, ever hear the end of it.”

I head into the family home and get right to the shower. I am not lying about having an appointment to make.

In the past few years, I have found one thing that brings me a little joy. Something that I’m honestly kind of embarrassed about. It’s not something that I’d be open to telling my brothers about, let alone anyone else who knows me.

I clean myself up. A proper shave, fresh clothes, button-down shirt to go with my jeans, boots on. Cash eyes me as I walk out the door of the house. The way I’m dressed isn’t what people usually expect when they see someone who just got out of the drunk tank.

The Landons, though, are a whole lot more proper than us Rowdys. They expect you to be a gentleman when you show up to their church, whereas the Rowdys don’t generally give much of a shit how they’re dressed, no matter where they’re going. As long as you’re wearing clothes, any clothes at all will do the trick.

I know this personally from an incident that I will not elaborate on further.

Dolly Dean was my mother. She loved my father dearly, but she was taken from us, the cruelty of cancer lurking in our lives. I lost her way too young, but even in the few years I knew her, she made such an impression on me.