Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“Why are women so damn confusing!” I yelled.
First, Waylynn tells me to be careful with Harley. Go date, have fun, make her see you’ve moved on. Then she’s mad because I did the very thing she told me to do. There was only one person who understood the Parker women.
My father. I needed his sage input on how to navigate these treacherous waters. I made a mental note to reach out to him and schedule lunch. If I ever needed advice, it was now.
I stared at my computer trying to concentrate. It had been a few weeks since I’d seen Harley at Cord’s Place dancing with that jerk. Karen informed me this morning that she saw Toby join Harley for breakfast at Lilly’s place. I’d stopped going on Fridays because Harley ate there. The vet clinic didn’t open until later that day so she made it a habit to stop into the café.
The phone on my desk buzzed. Glancing down, I saw that it was Mallory. Things hadn’t been the same with us since the night we got into a fight nearly three weeks ago. I was distant, and she could tell. I had hardly even touched her since the last time we fucked in the bathroom at Cord’s. It didn’t feel right. Not when I was so conflicted with my feelings for Harley.
Reaching down, I slid my finger across the screen to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hey there. I was wondering if you might like to have lunch today. I’m closing the shop for a couple of hours, and I can come meet you at your office.”
I chewed on my lip, trying to think of a reason I couldn’t, but a small part of me wanted to just bury myself in Mallory and not think about what Harley was doing with Toby.
“Having a bad day?”
She chuckled. “After the morning I had, yes. A very bad day. I wouldn’t mind spending some time with you. I feel like we’re drifting apart.”
“I’ll let Karen know you’ll be stopping by.”
I’m such a fucking asshole.
Anytime Mallory stopped by for lunch, that meant Karen was free to have an extra-long lunch break. One that she took full advantage of. She wasn’t stupid; she knew what in the hell we were doing.
“Perfect. I’ll stop by around eleven forty-five.”
With a quick peek at my watch, I replied, “Great. I need to finish looking over this contract for a client of mine and then I’m free.”
“Wonderful! See you then, handsome!”
A lump formed in my throat. I was about to tell her I just noticed I had a meeting, but instead I replied, “See you then.”
I hit End, a part of me wishing I had called my father this morning and set up that lunch date.
Damn it. I can’t put this shit off any longer.
Hitting the red button on my desk phone, Karen came on the other line.
“Yes, Mr. Parker?”
“Karen, Mallory is going to be stopping by at eleven forty-five for lunch here in the office. Feel free to take a long break today.”
“Okay, shall I just send her straight in when she arrives?”
“Yes, please.”
“Will do.”
The phone clicked and went silent.
Leaning back in my chair, I blew out a long breath before reaching for my phone and pulling up my father’s number. It only rang three times before he picked it up.
“Tripp, what’s going on?”
I couldn’t help but smile when I heard his voice.
“Not much. Is now a good time to talk?”
“Of course, it is.”
I heard him muffle the phone and excuse himself.
“Dad, if you’re in a meeting or something, we can talk later.”
“Nonsense. You kids always come first.”
My smile grew bigger. That’s how my folks were. Always putting us kids first, no matter what.
“Are you free for lunch tomorrow?” I asked.
He paused for a few seconds, probably going over his schedule.
“I believe the only thing I have tomorrow is a meeting with Steed, Trevor, Mitchell, and Wade to talk about the spring fling.”
The spring fling was my father’s way of saying branding. It was when the ranch branded, vaccinated, castrated, and if need be, dehorned the calves. Branding was still a big thing in these parts, an excuse to have everyone over for a party. That was the whole reason my folks called it a fling. There would be enough food to feed an army. Luckily, though, it wasn’t how it used to be when I was younger, when we had to rope the calves and have a whole team helping out. A good crew would consist of at least twenty. You had to rope ’em, wrestle them to the ground, brand, vaccinate, castrate, and dehorn. It was a hell of a lot of work. Now it only took a few people to herd them into the chute and take care of it all at once.
“Y’all still moving over to the tag system?”