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’m a cattle rancher, man. Of course I can grill a fucking steak.”
That’s it for the inquisition. Darby’s sisters are friendly but don’t try to embarrass me or Darby, and the kids are fun, and by the time we’re driving home, I’m perfectly happy with the way dinner went.
But when I glance over at my girl, I see tears rolling down her cheeks, and I immediately pull over to the side of the road and walk around, open the door, and hug her to me once I’ve unbuckled her.
“Talk to me, Duchess.”
“It’s not bad,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s not bad at all, I’m just relieved and maybe overwhelmed, and I hate being out on that property so much.”
“Hey, okay. Did you really think they’d hate me? I’m a likable guy, you know.”
“No.” She laughs through the tears. “I knew they’d like you, and I don’t know why I thought it wouldn’t go well. You’re great, and they’re great, and even Holden wasn’t a complete jerk.”
“Has he been a jerk to your dates in the past?”
“I’ve never brought anyone home before.”
Ah, there it is.
“Maybe that’s where the nerves came from.” I kiss her forehead. “Tell me what you need.”
“I’m fine. I think I’m just relieved, that’s all. Let’s go home, okay?”
Home.
“Let’s do it.”
Her tears dry up on the rest of the drive home, and the sun isn’t quite down yet when I pull into the garage.
“How about a ride on Ellie?” I ask her, and to my surprise, Darby’s face lights up.
“I haven’t ridden in a couple of weeks because she was injured, and then things got crazy. Yes, please.”
Taking her hand in mine, I lead her out to the barn, and we work together to get Ellie saddled, and then I saddle my own horse and lead them outside.
On the way past the stall with the kittens, we can hear them meowing and playing, and Darby grins.
“I’m going to take them to the garden tomorrow,” she says as she gets up onto the saddle, looking as comfortable as can be.
And sexy as fuck.
“I try to get them out of the barn as much as possible, hold them and interact with them. They’ll be house cats, and I want them to be as well-adjusted as they can be.”
“Did you find a home for that little black one?” I ask as we ride side by side near the tree line.
“No.” She huffs out a breath and then turns to me. “I’m torn.”
“Okay, talk to me. Is the little guy okay?”
“He’s perfect, just on the small side. That’s not it. Okay, I’m going to ask, and you can say no. You can just tell me that I’m ridiculous, or—”
“Duchess, just say what’s on your mind before I’m old and gray.”
“I want to keep him.” She winces, and all I can do is frown at her.
“So, keep him. What’s the problem?”
“I don’t have a place to put him. I don’t have a home, Tucker.”
“The fuck you don’t.” Jesus Christ. “How many times do I need to tell you that you’re here, with me, and that you’ll be here, with me? Darby, you don’t simply live here because you work here anymore. I can’t imagine this ranch without you. You’re here because I want you here. In our bed, taking care of your gardens, helping me with our home. If you want a cat, keep the cat. What else do you want? Ellie’s claimed you, so you have a horse. Do you want chickens?”
She wrinkles her nose and then looks thoughtful. “You know, maybe I do. You already have sheep.”
“Yep.”
“What about goats?”
I recently sold off the last of my goats and hadn’t planned to replace them.
“Not a huge fan, but if you want goats, we’ll get a few.”
“Why don’t you like them?”
“It’s the eyes. I can’t get past them. And they can be aggressive. Don’t get the ones that pass out.”
“They faint,” she says with a laugh. “And they’re kind of cute.”
I shake my head, enjoying the banter with her. “Pigs?”
“Too dirty,” she says, shaking her head. “Bison?”
“Bison? You want me to start raising bison, Duchess?”
She busts out laughing and shakes her head. “No, I just threw that out there. Hey, what about bees?”
“More witchy concoctions up your sleeve?”
“Honey is food, you know. And it’s really good for you, especially when it’s made on your own property. It can help with seasonal allergies and illnesses, and—”
“Yep, witchy concoctions.”
“I’m going to hurt you.”
“I’d love to see you try, baby. But if you want a hive, you can have a hive, but it can’t be in one of my cattle pastures. Maybe over by where the old barn used to be.”
“Where you used to do target practice?” she asks, and I nod in confirmation. “That would work. There are beekeepers around. I’ll call someone. This is fun.”