Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
The one and only thing I’ve ever thought was really mine he called a hazard zone. It’s probably in some junkyard smashed to pieces. I guess that’s why he took so much of my stuff last night. That trailer is all I had. Sure, it was shitty and I didn’t love it, but it was mine. He doesn’t get that because it’s all too easy for him to buy what he wants.
“You don’t need it. You’re staying with me.” He steps closer, and my brain tells me to take a step back, but my boots keep me planted where I am.
“Cause I’m yours now?” I sing-song to annoy him.
“Damn straight.” It’s harder this time not to flinch, but I think I pull it off.
He’s right, though. I really have nowhere to go and not a penny to my name.
“Well, I better get to work then.” I step around him, and he calls after me.
“Sweet thing.”
“Don’t call me that at work,” I say over my shoulder as I head back the way I came. I don’t know why I think I can try and get away from him. The man is a bull, and I'm waving a red flag to piss him off and come charge me. A moment later, two hands grip my hips and spin me around to face him. “Damn, I didn’t even hear you move that time.”
“If I don’t want you to hear me coming, you won’t.” His fingers flex against my hips. The sensation goes straight between my thighs as I think about those same fingers inside of me hours ago. I bet he’s expecting something else rather than his fingers tonight.
Damn it all to hell because I want that too, but this is going to end up being one big mess. To him this is some fun because he’s used to the buckle bunnies. They know the drill, so it’s easy for him to have fun while he’s in town, but once he’s gone, there’s nothing left. Sometimes when the wranglers pass through again, they hit up the same girl, but most of the time, they grab someone new.
“Is there something you need? Because—”
“Something I need.” The words roll off his tongue and sound sexy as hell. “What did I say about asking men if they need something?” I roll my eyes because I don’t want Bronco to know how much I love the idea of him needing anything from me. Not want. Need. Two very different things, which he himself is making clear.
“I didn’t ask a man. I asked you.” He throws back his head, and a laugh booms from his chest. What the hell? Even his laugh is sexy, but I ignore it. “I’m supposed to give instructions to your men,” I remind him, trying to pull this away from sex.
“All right then, tell me what needs the most attention first?” He grows serious.
“The arena. There are a few pins down there I don’t trust and some spots in the dirt that need to be filled. Not only is an animal going to get hurt but a rider too.”
“All right. Then what?” He checks that right off my list like it will be done in a few hours.
“I’d really like a structural engineer out here.” I swallow, hating to admit this part, but if I’m truly in charge and want this done right, I need to lay some things out there. “Somehow the last never even came out here, but my father got him to write up a report saying we’re all clear. Most stuff is surface, but it would make me feel better if the structure itself was inspected.”
I’ve barely even finished my words and Bronco is pulling out his phone to make a call. I watch in awe as he issues orders, but it doesn’t come out condescending. It’s clear Bronco doesn’t only have a way with animals, but people too.
“Ms. Savino will be out here in a few hours with a couple of her people to have a poke around. What’s next?” I don’t know why his question irritates me so much, but it does.
“What’s next is you tell me where my damn trailer is!” I shout. I should be happy because he’s doing the things I ask, but I can’t help but push a little.
“I had your father’s office cleaned out already. You can work there.”
“That’s not the point.” I stomp my foot.
Bronco glances down to stare at my boot. Now I'm acting like a brat, and I know it. I’m not used to all the things going somewhat right, and it’s overwhelming. This ball of something I don’t understand forms inside of me, and it needs to get out.
“Are you fixin’ to throw a fit?”
“Maybe,” I huff.
“By all means, sweet thing. Let loose.” He smiles, folding his arms over his chest, ready for whatever show he thinks I’m about to put on.