Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
She tries to grab another bag of feed and I call out for her to stop in a warning tone. I don’t like this. I don’t like seeing my woman work so damn hard.
Reaching around her, I grab the bag of feed and ignore the twinge in my shoulder. Years of bull riding mean I’ve dislocated it more times than I can count. Now it’s just a chronic injury that aches almost all the damn time. “You don’t do this shit around here.”
Everyone else might let her work like a horse but not me. She’ll always be sheltered and protected on my ranch. She’ll be treated like the treasure she is when she’s on my land.
She’s trudging behind me and when she speaks, her voice comes out in breathy little pants, “Who do you think loaded it? Women are not some delicate little flowers that have to be protected by the big, strong man. Maybe try stepping into the twenty-first century.”
I stop in my tracks and drop the bag of feed. I know I have to be scowling when I turn to face her. I open my mouth to tell her that my woman doesn’t have to lift a finger. Then I realize she’s not mine and the thought pisses me off even more. She’s not mine to protect. She’s not mine to boss around and how I’d love to boss her around. I’d make her bend over my bed and plow deep into her. It’s a fantasy I’ll never get to live out.
The crack of thunder reminds me that I only have a few more minutes to get this done. I need to get her back on the road, so she can be far away from me and the dirty things I’d love to do to her perfect little body.
Jenna
He was speechless when I confronted him, and he didn’t say anything the rest of the time we worked together. He didn’t stop me from trying to lift the feed again and for a second, I wonder if he’ll call my dad and complain. But that doesn’t seem like something Walker would do.
The skies finally open up as we’re making the last two trips and send a driving rain down. Not that we stop working. The thunder is rolling, and the barn door thumps loudly in the wind. The entire time, I will myself to stay calm as I continue carrying in the feed.
I can’t tell Walker I’m a tough, independent woman then cower just because the storm reminds me of that day.
“Be careful,” he tells me as he raises the tailgate. “Creek rises faster than a lot of people realize.”
I nod and swipe at my bangs, trying to blink the rain from my eyes. How is it that he looks so sexy with rain dripping down his beard? I have to stop this. I have to get back on familiar ground with him. “Are you worried about me?”
“Course I’m worried.” He steps closer, so close that I can feel the heat coming from his body. He’s like one of those electric blankets. I’d like nothing more than to have him stretched out over my body, warming me. “I need someone to deliver my horse feed.”
He’s almost smiling. One corner of his mouth is tipped up and I think Walker might have just made a joke. Before I can ask, he’s backing away. He pats the side of the truck. “Get gone now.”
I do as he said, puzzling over it the entire time. Walker is a mystery I can’t quite figure out. He’s definitely a mystery I’d love to unravel but I doubt I’ll ever get the chance. He clearly doesn’t think I’m capable or competent.
Shaking off the thoughts, I grip the wheel tighter as I approach the bridge. Except that I can’t see the bridge. My wipers are going at full blast, trying to clear the deluge from my windshield but the bridge isn’t here. It’s gone.
The water from the creek swirls and the banks are swollen. In the distance, I can see a collection of lumber. It looks like his creaky old bridge finally gave up. Without a way to cross the creek, there’s only one choice left: go back to Walker.
3
Jenna
By the time I arrive back at Walker’s barn, the rain is coming so quickly that I can barely see, and my heart feels like it’s in my throat. My knuckles are white from where I’m gripping the steering wheel. It’s getting harder to draw in a deep breath.
I stop in front of the barn just as Walker is shoving the doors shut. He hurries to the truck but I’m barely able to focus. All I can see is the white lights of the truck that should have swerved. Why didn’t he swerve?
He calls my name in a panicked tone and I finally blink at him. He must have opened the door at some point. “What the hell happened?”