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)
“I don’t have much,” I tell him as I fall into step beside him. I’m tall, and I have a long stride, so keeping up with men isn’t hard for me, but Tucker doesn’t walk like he’s in a hurry. In fact, he moseys. It’s kind of cute. “Are you sure it’s okay if I bunk here? I can stay with my sister in Bitterroot Valley and commute.”
“That’s a long commute,” he says, shaking his head. “And if there’s a medical emergency out here, it would take you too long to get here.”
“Do you have many of those?”
“No. And I’d like to keep it that way. But they happen from time to time. You’ll be staying out here in the cabin.”
I’m surprised when he shows me to the little cabin a few yards away from the main house. I thought I’d be staying in a bunkhouse, or in a guest room inside, but this is way better.
I prefer to be alone.
“It’s small,” he says as we step inside, right into the kitchen, and I smile as I take it in.
He’s right, there’s not much square footage to speak of, but what’s here is so freaking beautiful, it almost brings tears to my eyes. The kitchen has white cabinets with a black countertop, making it feel larger than it is. There’s a peninsula that faces the living room, with two stools where I can sit and eat at the counter.
The living room boasts a tan double sofa with a matching chair that both look comfortable, and the window that gazes out at the pasture where at least fifty black angus cows graze makes me sigh happily. The mountain view is stellar.
I get to live here?
“The bedroom and bath are through there,” he says.
There’s a freshly made queen-size bed and a brown dresser. The bathroom has a pretty white pedestal sink and a step-in tub and shower combo, and it’s all just . . . perfect.
“This is way more than I was expecting,” I admit as I join him in the kitchen.
“My foreman usually lives out here, but he got married and moved to town, so it’s just been sitting empty. This way, you have your privacy.”
“You don’t have a bunkhouse?”
“No. I have several guys who work for me seasonally, but they all live in town.”
I nod and shuffle my feet.
Typically, if I were in such a small space with a man, I’d be ready to crawl out of my skin, but I’m not nervous right now. I’m cautious, but I think any woman should be when they’re in the middle of nowhere with a man they don’t know.
But I don’t want to run away, and that’s a big deal for me.
“Can we see some of the animals before we get my things?” I ask him.
“You bet, let’s do it.” He holds the door open for me, and I have to skirt past him. I move my shoulder to the side so I don’t brush against him and then sigh in relief when we’re outside and I can put a couple feet between us.
I’ve missed being around this man. There’s something about him that tells me that I don’t need to be wary of him, and damn it, I love the way he smiles at me. I don’t want to love it. But I do.
I hated quitting without telling him. He was the best part of working at Kay’s. I loved seeing him every week. He’s so fucking handsome, so funny and kind. Honestly, I missed him for a long time after I stopped working at the diner.
“When did you take over the ranch?” I ask, wanting to fill the silence.
“I’d been slowly taking over for a while, but my dad officially retired about three years ago. He moved into a house in town, and he’s seeing a woman, which shocked all of us. He comes out here now and again to help with things, but it’s not often these days. He’s enjoying retirement.”
“And how many siblings do you have?”
I like his voice. It’s deep, and he doesn’t talk too fast, like he has all the time in the world. I could listen to him all day.
“Two brothers, Xander and Easton, and two sisters. Ava and Harper. I’m the oldest.”
Ava and Harper. The irony here is, they’re friends of mine, like I said. And yet, I never realized that Tucker was the guy from the diner because I’d never met him. I just heard his sisters and my friend Juliet talk about him once in a while.
A heads-up would have been nice. Maybe I should get on social media so I’m not always out of the loop. It’s just . . . I hate social media.
We fall back into step, and for the next hour, he shows me his horses, sheep, and goats, and then we ride out to the pasture in a side-by-side so he can tell me about his operations.