Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“The Arsehole is back in the States, a stór. And he’s been googling you.”
“You have security.”
“I do,” he says with a nod. “I have quite a lot to protect out here. Does this make you feel more at ease?”
“Honestly, yes.”
“Good. You’re safe out here. Nothing will hurt you.” He drives down a gravel road and pulls up to a stunning farmhouse you’d expect to see in a movie.
The two-story charmer has a deep, wraparound porch complete with hanging swings and furniture that looks like you could nap away an entire summer afternoon in the soft cushions.
“Beckett, this is beautiful. Homey. How many naps have you taken on that porch?”
He blinks over at me. “None.”
“What? That’s criminal. It’s begging for naps.”
He laughs and kisses my hand again. “Do you nap often?”
“No, but I’m telling you right now that this porch was made for lazy summer afternoons, with a cool drink, a book, a breeze, and a refreshing sleep.”
He follows my gaze. “When you put it that way, I can picture it. I’ll give you a tour of the rest of the ranch tomorrow since it’s about to get dark.”
I hop out of the truck. Beck lets Riley out and leads us up the porch steps to the front door. He opens one side of the double door, and I can’t help but grin.
“Are those cows etched in the glass?” I ask, nodding to the frosted glass in the door.
He nods and grins.
“Of course. Welcome,” he says before he picks up my bag and follows us in. “Nothing in this house is off-limits to you, so make yourself at home. I mean that.”
“Thank you.”
He sets my bag at the bottom of the stairs, then takes my hand and leads me back to the kitchen. The house is beautiful, with vintage and modern touches that make it feel like a home.
When I see that Beck not only bought Riley’s food but also bought him a raised feeder with big bowls for food and water, my heart catches.
Across the room, there’s another new bed, similar to the ones in the truck, and Riley stomps over after getting a big drink of water, making a mess on the floor, and curls up on the bed.
“Well, Riley’s made himself at home.” I laugh and grab a towel off the countertop so I can wipe up my dog’s mess.
“Good. That was my plan.” Beckett wraps his arms around me from behind and brushes my hair to the side so he can press his mouth to the crook of my neck. “Thank you for being here.”
“Thank you for inviting us.” I lean back against him, soaking in his strength, his warmth. He feels so damn good, I could stand here like this all night long. “Can I help you make dinner?”
“No, ma’am.” He kisses me once more, then leads me to the island, pulls out a stool, and helps me onto it. “You sit here and talk to me while I cook.”
“What are you making?”
Beckett grabs a clean towel out of a drawer by the sink, tosses it over his shoulder, and then pulls a knife out of a block and fetches vegetables out of the refrigerator.
“Wait, before I start, do you have any allergies?” He leans against the counter, watching me.
“No. No allergies. I don’t like mussels, but aside from that, I’ll eat just about anything.”
“How does roasted chicken with asparagus, carrots, and rice sound?”
“Like I’m at a restaurant.” I grin at him. “Seriously, what can I do to help? I’m not too bad in the kitchen myself.”
He narrows his eyes at me, making me shiver. Between everything he’s generously bought for Riley, his soft kisses, and now beckoning me with a wicked gleam in his eye, I’m a mess of need.
“Come here, Irish.”
With pleasure, Beckett.
Chapter Eleven
BECKETT
She circles the island, her lips curved in a sassy smile that has my cock twitching.
“Tell me how I can help. I don’t want to sit over there and watch. Let me in on the action.”
I tip up an eyebrow and brush my fingers through her thick, red hair. “Oh, I plan to give you some action, Irish.”
She laughs, wrinkles her nose, then bounces on her feet. Unable to resist her, I lean in and kiss her on the head before I cross to the fridge.
“I have the chicken ready for the oven, so that part is easy.” I even had the oven warming while I went into town to get her, so I take the pot out of the fridge and slip it into the waiting oven.
“I love a man who plans ahead.”
“If I don’t plan, I don’t eat. Because by the time I get back from working a full day on this farm, nothing would be ready. Now, we just need to get the vegetables and rice going while that cooks.”