Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
For fuck’s sake. Maybe I need to suck it up and go downtown to a bar one night soon and hook up with a stranger. Scratch this itch.
That’s what I’ll do tonight.
“Good morning,” he says and digs right in to work with me, as if we’ve been doing this together for years. “Do you ever sleep, Duchess?”
“Not much,” I admit and pick up the wheelbarrow to take the old hay to the compost, and when I return, he’s already shed his flannel, and his muscles are front and center.
Why does he have to have so many muscles?
“Why don’t you sleep?” he asks.
Because nighttime was always the worst when I was a kid, and I had to be on high alert at all times to make sure the monster didn’t hurt my sisters.
But I can’t tell him that.
I wouldn’t admit that to anyone. Not even my siblings, who lived through that hell with me.
“I’m an insomniac.”
He hums behind me, and then we settle back into that quiet rhythm once more. Tom pokes her head out to say hi and get some back scratches before she returns to her litter.
“Are you ready to ride?” Tucker asks, breaking through the silence.
Shit. My stomach rolls at the thought.
“Are we really doing that today?”
Tucker’s lips tip up into a half smile. “Unless you have other plans.”
“Don’t you have other plans? Fence to fix, or something to butcher, or animals to feed?”
“We’ll feed the animals, my crew is out riding fence, and I don’t butcher much of anything here.”
My shoulders sag.
“What’s wrong, Duchess?”
He steps toward me, almost close enough to touch, but he doesn’t reach for me. This man is really good at respecting my boundaries, which only makes me like him even more. His voice is soft and not at all taunting. He sounds concerned.
“I might be just a little intimidated,” I finally admit, and I refuse to look him in the eyes because damn it, this is a vulnerable thing for me, and I’m not good at being vulnerable.
“Hey, look at me.” I press my lips together and finally look up into his gorgeous green eyes. Why do they have to be my favorite color? “There’s no need to be intimidated. Ellie’s the sweetest, and I’ll be right next to you. Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
My feet stay planted where they are at his words.
I’ve got you.
God, I almost believe him.
Finally, I nod, and he leads me to the animal, who’s as sweet as can be.
Tucker shows me how to saddle the horse, and then we lead her out to a nearby empty pasture.
“Here, I’ll help you up.”
“Wait.” I take a step back, and Tucker lifts an eyebrow. “So soon?”
“We’re not here to stand around and admire Ellie, although she’s pretty enough. We’re here for you to ride her.”
“Right.” I lick my lips and push my hands down my jeans. Why are my palms sweaty? “Okay.”
“I have to touch you to help you up. I’ll just grip your waist.”
I nod and step closer. “Okay. That’s fine. How do I do this?”
He shows me how to put my foot in the stirrup and grip onto the saddle horn.
“I’m going to touch your waist now, okay?”
He’s right behind me. I can feel the heat of his body, and I instinctively want to lean back into him. Instead, I bite my lip and nod, and then his big hands are bracketing my waist, and he boosts me up into the saddle.
“Loop your leg over,” he says calmly as my heart goes into overdrive, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to die. “And slide your foot in the other stirrup. Good. You look like a natural up there.”
I can’t breathe, I’m so fucking nervous.
“Duchess.”
I shake my head. I can’t look at him. I can’t move. It’s so high up, and I feel like I’m going to fall any second.
“Take a breath for me. Come on, you’ll pass out and fall off. I need you to breathe, Darby. I swear, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He rubs his hand up my thigh, and I immediately pull in a breath. I don’t want to shake his touch off at all. In fact, when he pulls away, I miss it.
His voice, his very presence is calming.
It’s like he soothes my overactive nervous system.
“Are you afraid of heights?” he asks. It would be great if he could just talk to me all the time. Not just now, but . . . always.
“Isn’t everyone?” My voice is tight, just like my grip on the saddle horn. But then his hand covers mine, and the muscles in my shoulders and hands relax beneath his firm touch.
“You’re not that far up. I promise, you won’t get hurt up there. We don’t have to move from this spot until you’re comfortable in the saddle.”