Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Another.
I can’t look away.
I don’t want to look away. Six years of stewing over my mistakes have taught me many things. But the most important one is that I need to win my Josie girl back.
I try to keep my steps steady, even, as I close the distance between us. Don’t want to scare her off. No doubt she despises me. And for good reason.
It’s gonna take some real work to win her over. But I got a strong back and slow hands. I’m also a third-generation rancher in charge of one thousand head of cattle, thirty employees, and ten thousand acres of land.
I’d like to think I’m up to the task of winning my girl over. I’m not afraid to show the world who I really am anymore. I’m not some insecure twentysomething obsessed with what his friends think. I’m a man now, one who’s been through hell in the hopes of finding heaven.
“Hey, Josie.” My skin lights up at the way her eyes trail down my body, then back up again. “Good to see you.”
I don’t know what to do with my hands. Do I hug her? Shake it out? Go in for a fist bump?
Dear Lord, no fist bumps. Been a minute since I dated. I got no idea how this shit works.
She smiles. It doesn’t touch her eyes. “Hey, Wes.”
Aw, honey, I’m so sorry.
“We’re happy to have you back.” I put my hands on my hips. Mostly so I don’t reach for her. “Being rich and famous suits you. You look great. You still look great.”
She smells like summer: sunscreen and that cherry ChapStick she used to keep her lips from getting sunburnt. I remember the taste well.
“And you finally own a swimsuit. Guess you’ve bought all the Stetsons you need?”
I laugh, reaching down to tug at the trunks that cling to my thighs. “A man can never have too many Stetsons.”
“Truth,” Grady says.
“I’m also into jewelry now, thank you very much.” I hook a thumb around the gold chain I wear around my neck.
She furrows her brow. “Since when do you wear slutty gold necklaces?”
“Since you said you liked slutty gold necklaces in that interview you gave after you won all those CMA awards. Four of ’em, right?”
Josie may roll her eyes, but I don’t miss how her cheeks turn pink. “Have you been stalking me?”
“Yes.” I also weasel updates out of Grady every chance I get.
I try not to talk to him too much about Josie and me. He said she told him our breakup was mutual, and I imagine she had her reasons for doing that.
But I’ve always regretted letting her go. And after working with a therapist over the past few years and doing a good bit of growing up on the ranch, I feel like I’m finally in a place to make things right.
It took some convincing to get Grady on board with my plan to win her back. Totally understandable, even if he doesn’t know the whole story. But I’m hoping he knows enough to make the right call.
We decided not to tell Quinn. It’s her wedding weekend. There’s also a good chance I fall on my face, so we didn’t want to get her hopes up.
And, yeah, if I’m being honest, I worried she wouldn’t let me make the attempt. I’m sure Josie told her how our breakup actually went down. Quinn likes me because I’m her fiancé’s friend, but she’s always kept a good bit of distance between her and me. I imagine there’s a reason for that.
“Stalking? Really, Weston,” Josie says.
“Yes, really, Josephine.” I’m smiling. “It’s fun watching you live the life you always dreamed of.”
Her eyelashes flutter. “That’s illegal, you know. Stalking.”
“How good you look in that swimsuit is illegal.”
She levels me with eyes that flash. There’s my girl. “You’re not supposed to say that shit out loud.”
“I learned the hard way that keeping shit inside is a bad idea. I know better now.”
Her expression softens. Just a little.
Just enough to let me know that she knows I’m not talking about bikinis and gold chains.
Maybe—just maybe—this woman will give me another chance.
Grady eyes us. “I feel like we should maybe give y’all a minute to, uh, catch up?”
“Only if Josie wants that,” Quinn replies, glancing at her friend.
“Agreed. Only if Josie agrees.” I hold her eyes. They’re beautiful in the ardent, late-afternoon light, a shade of pale blue that matches the color of a summer sky in the morning.
I love mornings.
Josie hesitates. My pulse thumps.
“Actually,” she says at last, bringing the beer can she’s holding to her lips, “I think I’d like to go for a swim. This heat.”
“Don’t tell me your blood’s thinned living way up there in Tennessee.”
Josie knocks back her Shiner, her throat working with each swallow. Lust, frank and hot, gathers low in my core.