Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“What do you think your wound is?”
She thinks on this a minute. I love that about her—how thoughtful she can be. No filling the silence with empty bullshit.
“I think I always believed that, by being super successful, I could fix something that was broken.”
“What’s broken?”
“Me, I guess? Like if I’m perfect, then I’ll be loved.”
My heart twists at the naked hurt in her eyes.
It’s a big deal that Mollie Luck is sharing this with me. She is successful. She is a hard worker. Those can be good things.
They’re also things that keep people—feelings—at arm’s length.
They’re things I can certainly relate to.
Mollie trusts me. She sees me, too, same as I see her.
I need to show her Garrett’s pictures. Just gotta figure out the right time and place. I can’t help but feel sharing them with her will be a declaration on Garrett’s part and mine too.
Lord, we are in it.
“Close the laptop.”
Her eyebrows pop up. “Cash—”
“Don’t make me ask again. Close it and come here, honey.”
Her lips twitch as she does as I tell her. Then I wrap her in my arms and pull her against me, guiding her head into the crook of my neck. My body jumps at the feel of her tits pressed to my chest, her nipples getting hard at the contact.
I do my best to ignore it. I just hold Mollie as I murmur in her ear, “Just because you’re not perfect doesn’t mean you’re broken.”
Her fingers trail through my chest hair. She’s quiet.
“I don’t need perfect. Your parents didn’t need it. World doesn’t need you to be perfect either. We just need you. You and your messes. You light up a room just by being in it, honey.”
She swallows audibly. “You’re just saying that because you have a hard-on.”
I laugh. “I’m always hard when you’re around. But even if that wasn’t the case, I’d be saying the same thing.” I tip up her chin so she meets my eyes. “There’s nothing about you that needs fixing. Anyone that makes you feel otherwise, they ain’t meant for you.”
She searches my gaze, her eyes wide and wet. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Nothing’s simple unless you make it simple.”
She gives me a watery grin. “So I make it simple.”
“I’m here to help you try, honey.”
CHAPTER 26
Cash
DOWN BAD
September turns into October. Mornings are gloriously chilly, even if the afternoons are still hot.
Mollie is still intent on learning the ropes of being a true cowgirl. She’s with us and the herd almost every day. And every night, she sits in my bed with her computer on her lap, fingers flying over the keyboard as she works on Bellamy Brooks’s approaching launch.
We fuck before and after that, of course. First thing in the morning too. But I’m doggone impressed by how hard this woman works. At the end of the day, I’m beat. Mollie, though, seems to get a second wind when we untack the horses.
I admire her tenacity. Even as part of me knows her cowboy boot company is a big part of what’s ultimately keeping her in Dallas. We talk about everything but the future. I don’t ask, and she doesn’t offer any answers. We just live in the moment.
I try to make my peace with that. I know we get along well. I know she enjoys my company. And the sex is…Jesus, something else.
But that don’t mean she’s in love with me. Definitely doesn’t mean she’s thinking about moving to the ranch forever. It’d be weird, right, if I brought that up after a few weeks of…well, are we dating? Because we haven’t been on any actual dates. We’re fucking, but our connection is so much more than just physical.
I tie myself in knots trying to figure it out.
I need to take my own damn advice and lighten up. Maybe this time is meant to be enjoyed, plain and simple. Why do I need answers if I have Mollie in my bed every night?
Because the more you let her in, the more it’s gonna hurt when she goes.
Like I can help it.
Like I can stop falling harder for her each fucking day.
Only solution to that would be to get gone myself. But I can’t just up and leave. I don’t want to.
Leaving isn’t in my nature. But I’m not sure staying is in hers.
What the fuck do I do?
I ask myself that question for the thousandth time while I’m helping John B and Sally administer vaccinations to a handful of heifers on Friday afternoon. We’ve got a cow in the chute, head safely restrained in the neck extender. Sally is giving her a vaccination in her neck, smoothly and quickly inserting the gun-like multi-dose tool a few inches behind and below the heifer’s ear.
The heifer rattles the bars of the chute, but after a second or two, she calms right down.