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)
“Nah.” Smile never wavering, Jude stayed put. “I’m on a one-beer limit because I’m on call. I can take a hint though.”
“Yep. Not gonna make you talk.” Colt’s voice slid into the sort of solemnness he usually saved for when he was on duty. “Here if you ever want to, but I should be heading out soon tonight.”
I couldn’t see ever wanting to talk, but I nodded nonetheless. “Appreciated.”
A short while later, after the three of us said our goodbyes, I headed to my truck, laughably sober despite my intentions otherwise. I pulled out my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed a calamity at the ranch, but instead, there was a message from my mother. It wasn’t a major holiday, but I dutifully clicked to discover a meme of a little kid in a cowboy hat swinging on a gate. The meme read, Always make sure you’re on the right side of a gate before you close it.
My mother had added a text of her own.
Saw this and thought of you. The boy is a spitting image of you at that age. You always were a born cowboy, Gray. Hope you’re keeping warm.
I exhaled hard, breath hanging in front of me. As I warmed up the truck, my mind raced.
“You can’t keep judging the world by your parents.” Adler’s voice rang in my ears. It wasn’t only the world I judged. I kept right on judging my parents as well, especially my mother. I’d put up a sturdy fence all around my heart, never once considering what else I’d locked away. Had I shut the wrong gate? Accidentally trapped myself?
I’d spent decades trying to outrun the hurt, but inside, I’d remained that scared kid, watching his family fall apart amid an avalanche of gossip. I’d blamed the gossip because it was easier than admitting exactly how human my parents were. My finger flipped from the message to the contact screen for my mother, hovering over the Call icon.
My heart pounded. My hands sweat. I had no clue how to be the person Adler needed and deserved, and I had no clue what kind of difference hitting that button would make. All I knew was that some fences were made to come down.
Chapter Thirty
Adler
I was a master multitasker to the point that even I was impressed at my ability to keep focused on the guest project with Maverick. The girls were watching an episode of their favorite show in the great room with Faith, and not even the drone of the TV could distract me from the plans we were reviewing at the dining room table.
Lies.
I had the worst case of squirrel brain ever, hadn’t been able to stay on task all damn week, with ordinary jobs taking three times as long. No matter how hard I tried, my brain flitted right back to Grayson and his stubbornness. However, I was determined to outrun my thoughts, and I spun the laptop around to face Maverick.
“So, if we go with this online booking software, we can manage reservations in real time with automated messages to the guests,” I explained.
“Excellent.” Maverick leaned forward like picking a reservation app was the most interesting part of his day. “And one of those messages will be a list of things to do in the area for them as well?”
“Yep.” I nodded. If I gave myself enough action items, maybe I could actually get my brain to cooperate. “The idea is to drive some business to the town while also not putting the entire burden on us to entertain the guests twenty-four-seven.”
“I don’t think there’s much risk of them being bored.” Maverick laughed lightly as he held up one of my many lists. “You keep coming up with new things for them to do here.”
“Yeah.” It was only a split-second reaction, but I couldn’t summon my usual chipperness. My voice came out slumped, and Maverick immediately narrowed his eyes.
“Wait. Are you bored here? Is that why you’re worried about the guests not having enough choices for activities?”
“Me? Bored?” I screwed my smile back in place, but Maverick continued to study me far too closely. “I love it here.”
“You’ve been off lately.” Maverick didn’t accept my stock answer. “I was worried you were getting tired of rural life.”
“Nope.” I made my grin that much wider, cheeks hurting from the effort.
“Not sending in applications to resorts in warmer climates?” Maverick teased as he gestured at the window and the frosty February landscape beyond.
“I said I’d see this project through, and I meant it.” Oops. I snapped again, and Maverick responded by scooting closer and placing a hand on my arm.
“Hey. I was teasing. I know you’re not looking elsewhere.” Head tilting, he scrutinized my face intently. “Seriously, are you okay? I can usually count on you to laugh at even my bad jokes. You’re normally a ray of sunshine, which is sorely needed with all this winter weather.”