Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“Fucking hell,” I mutter as I put the machine into neutral. I get up from the seat as Mitch’s wide eyes roam over the controls.
“Want me to take over?”
“Not a chance,” I say as I wave Sanders over.
The old grizzly shifter comes stomping over. He climbs up the machine and grabs Mitch by the back of the neck.
“What did I tell you about heavy machinery and skinny little punks?” he growls in Mitch’s face.
Mitch gulps. “That they don’t mix?”
“That’s right,” he says as he tosses the kid off my knuckleboom loader. “Now, go grab a shovel and clean up those wood chips.”
Mitch groans when he spots the pile of wood chips that’s taller than him.
“Can I at least use the excavator to pick them up?”
“No,” Sanders grunts.
I give the old bear a look. He sighs. “Fine. But if I see you messing around with that thing, you’ll be picking them up with your bare hands.”
Mitch runs over to the parked excavator with a skip in his step. He’s so carefree. So happy all the time even though he’s at the bottom of the totem pole out here on the job site. I guess that’s what having a mate does to you. Nothing can bring you down if you know you’ll be crawling into bed with your dream girl at the end of the day.
“I need you to take over,” I say to Sanders. “I got something to check out.”
“You got it, boss,” he says as he squeezes past me and slides into the seat.
“And, Sanders?”
“Yeah?”
“Go easy on the kid.”
He grunts with a frown as he turns back to the controls.
Even though I’m expecting to see a private jet parked on my ranch when I drive in, it’s still shocking to see. It looks so out of place next to the barn that my grandfather built, my dad rebuilt, and I’m about to rebuild as soon as I can afford it. The thing is rotting away. I don’t think it’s going to last another winter without collapsing.
I park in front of the large six-bedroom house that I grew up in. It was filled with my loving parents and four sisters, but now, it’s empty and cold. Just me. All alone in that big house.
The ranch is surrounded by the spectacular Montana mountains. Thousands of acres of pristine forest, valleys, fields of wildflowers, freshwater rivers, and even a small lake. It’s perfect for a grizzly bear shifter like me. I just wish I had someone to share it with. I don’t even have any animals on the farm besides my dog, Snoops.
My stomach drops when I see the plane door open and a strange lady walks out. Mitch is right. She’s definitely not from around here.
Snoops is barking like crazy inside. I open the door and the German Shepard rushes out and bounds down the wooden steps of my porch. He takes a long look at the bizarre strangers and then settles by my side as I start to walk over.
Three huge shifter bodyguards step out behind the lady as she walks down the steps. The wind brings their smell over and my bear stirs inside when we smell the feline scent.
Lions. All three of them. Mitch was right.
“Are you the owner of this ranch?” the woman says as I approach.
She’s impeccably dressed in a silver pencil skirt and matching jacket with not a spot of dirt on her, which is already out of place enough for Montana fashion. Everyone in this town has dirty boots or splashes of mud on their pants from working on their ranches.
I’m guessing she’s in her fifties. Short blonde hair and icy blue eyes that don’t miss a thing. I can tell this lady is sharp just by her demeanor.
I stop a few feet from her and cross my arms over my chest. Snoops stands by my side with the fur on his back standing straight up. He’s as uneasy as I am right now.
“I am.”
She smiles. It has all the warmth of an arctic glacier.
“My name is Coco St. James,” she says in a confident voice. “And I apologize for the unconventional introduction.”
She waves her hand at the jet and the big mean-looking men standing behind her. I swallow hard as I look them over. Three lions versus a grizzly? I’m not sure how that would end, and I’m not really interested in finding out. My bear might be able to win against the three large cats, but it would definitely be painful. There’s a fuckload of sharp claws on three angry lions.
“What are you doing here?”
She smiles that icy smile once again. Instead of putting me at ease, it only makes me more suspicious.
“I would like to offer you an opportunity,” she says. “One million dollars for one night.”
I just stare at her. Normally, when a strange charlatan comes offering huge amounts of money for one night of work, it’s a scam.