Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“That sounds fun.” Adler beamed like I’d proposed a trip to Disney. “Thank you.”
Watching him all excited, I resolved not to let him down the baby chick aisle as he’d likely clamor for Maverick to add a chicken coop. As it was, I fully expected him to ooh and aah over the most mundane of items. And damn it, I was totally looking forward to that.
Glowering, I rode on until we were almost done with the circuit I’d planned for us.
“Is that fence sagging?” Adler’s eyes narrowed like a seasoned hand as he spotted something I’d missed in my ruminating over him.
“Yep.” I nodded. I supposed a little praise wouldn’t hurt. “Good eye. I’ll mark it for fixin’ next week.”
Adler wriggled in his saddle, all happy while I marked the fence with a piece of bright-yellow rope. We made our way back to the barn, where a bleary-eyed Kat was giving the girls their Saturday lesson.
“You sure you want me coming with you to the store?” Adler asked as we unsaddled and took care of our horses.
No. “Yep. Daylight’s a wasting. Let’s go.”
We headed to my truck, where Adler proceeded to look too damn at home in the passenger seat. I immediately flipped on the news station I kept the truck tuned to in an effort to keep conversation to a minimum. It worked until we were halfway to Lovelorn when Adler gasped.
“Look out!” he called right as an animal of some kind darted in front of us. I swerved hard, hoping it would be enough to miss the creature without sending us into the ditch.
Chapter Fourteen
Adler
My heart was racing so fast I could barely speak. Grayson had swerved so hard I swore the truck had been on two wheels for a split second before righting itself and narrowly avoiding the steep ditch. We were on a country road, no houses for miles, but I knew what I’d seen.
“It was a dog. Out here. In the middle of nowhere.” I panted, trying to catch my breath. A large yet skinny mottled black and gray dog, definitely not a wolf or cougar or other wildlife. All alone out here. We had to do something. “We have to—” I started to command Grayson to go back so we could rescue it, only for him to pull a wide U-turn before I could finish. “You’re turning around?”
“Not gonna leave it to get hit by another truck,” he said grimly. He pulled up even with where we’d seen the dog dart away. We both got out of the truck. We hadn’t taken more than three steps into the ditch when the dog appeared, backing slowly away from us like it wasn’t sure we were trustworthy.
“Hey there. Are you a good doggie?” I asked conversationally, but my voice wavered ever so slightly. The dog was rather large compared to the purse dogs I was used to in my work in upscale hotels. What if it bit one of us out of fear? “Please be a nice doggie.”
“You ever have a dog?” Grayson stopped his approach to give me a searching look.
“No. Nine kids. My parents refused to add to the chaos,” I said mournfully. I’d wanted a dog so badly when younger, but the answer had always been no. “And then in LA, I worked too many hours with my partying lifestyle on top. Too irresponsible to add a pet.”
“I see.” Grayson looked like he might be suppressing a laugh over my nervousness, although it was hard to tell with him. “Let me do the talking.” He slowly crept closer to her, hand out, voice far calmer and more coaxing than mine. “Come here, girl.”
“How do you know it’s a girl?” I asked.
“Eyeballs,” Grayson deadpanned before turning his attention back to the dog, who took two cautious steps forward before stopping again. “It’s okay, girl. You take your time.” Turning back to me, he asked, “You got any snacks in your pocket?”
“Chocolate protein bar and a few jerky sticks that Casey made me take the other morning.”
“Dogs can’t have chocolate. Give me the jerky.” Grayson held out his hand, and I removed one of the jerky sticks from its wrapper before handing it over. He broke off a small piece and held it out for the dog. “Here you go. Little treat.”
Faster than I could blink, she darted forward, snatched the bit of jerky from Grayson, and backed away again.
“Oh, she’s hungry,” I said as she licked her chops. She had a long snout, pointed ears that flopped over, long legs, and short, filthy fur with what looked like several scratches on her front legs. No collar. She was a mess, but even cleaned up, I imagined she’d have a rough-around-the-edges look to her. “What kind of breed is she? She doesn’t look like the dogs we have in LA.”