Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 155037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
He wondered which one was real? Or if they both were.
There was nothing wrong with wanting to look pretty, dressing nicely, and putting on makeup.
He’d had too many years of dealing with selfish people. Who looked out for themselves and what they could get out of someone.
Who’d turn up their noses at him when they realized he had nothing. No home. No family. No material possessions other than his clothes and his truck.
Fuck them all.
Perhaps he’d been on his way to becoming bitter.
Until he’d come to Wishingbone for a job at Sanctuary Ranch. And met his sweet girl.
“Yes!” she replied.
“I apologize for making you punch me in the nose because I was so quiet that I didn’t wake you.”
“Thank you for your apology,” she replied primly.
He couldn’t help it. He wasn’t even sure the last time he’d done it. But he threw back his head and started laughing.
Part of him was aware of her staring at him in shock, but it still took him a long moment to get himself under control. He shook his head, his nose still throbbing. “Can’t remember the last time I laughed like that.”
“You should do it more often,” she told him before clearing her throat. “It was . . . you have a good laugh.”
“I haven’t had many reasons in my life to laugh,” he confessed.
Shit. What was he doing? He didn’t like to be vulnerable.
Showing weakness had never ended well for him.
But her entire body softened. “I’m sorry.”
He hated pity too. Although it didn’t have the same punch to the gut that it usually did.
“No reason for you to be sorry.”
“Maybe sorry is the wrong word,” she said. “It can be a useless word, I guess. Used too often and without real meaning. But I didn’t mean it like that . . . I just, I get it when you don’t feel like smiling even though you’re made to, in order to make someone else feel better. Not that I think you do that.”
How often had she had to pretend she was all right to make someone else feel better?
He didn’t like that. His girl should never be made to feel like she had to hide her emotions.
He wanted them all.
“You’ll never do that with me,” he told her gruffly.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“You’ll never pretend with me. Understand? I want your real emotions. To know if you’re sad, angry, scared, happy. Don’t lie or hide, Isa. I will not like it.”
“You are so demanding,” she huffed, looking so irritated that he wanted to smile again.
What was wrong with him? He’d smiled more in the last twenty-four hours than he had in the last two years.
Maybe longer.
Shit. His life really had grown rather bitter, hadn’t it?
“If I think it’s in your best interests to do something, then I’m gonna work on making that happen.”
“So what you’re saying is . . . I can say no, but you’ll just find a way to get around if you think it’s in my best interests.” She studied him as he sat on the coffee table. He was too old to sit on the floor anymore.
“Pretty much.”
“And you don’t see something wrong with that?” she asked.
“I just want what’s best for you. Is that wrong?”
11
“I guess not. Just how can you be sure you know what’s best for me?”
“Good question, baby.” He both loved and hated the way she flushed. She looked so pleased but uncertain.
Hadn’t she been praised much? He had a feeling that her damn father had done a real number on her.
Also something to work on.
“I want to tell you I know exactly what you need, but I don’t.”
Surprise filled her face at his words. She wasn’t expecting him to say that.
“Don’t know you well enough. But I want you to be healthy, and happy, and safe. So I’ll always keep those things in mind.”
“Oh.” She frowned slightly as though thinking that over. Then she looked at him again, studying him. “You’re an intense guy.”
“Yep,” he replied, even though it hadn’t been a question. “I am. Determined too. If there’s something I want, I get it. I keep it. I take care of it. And I don’t ever let it go.”
“That might . . . that might be a bit too intense for me right now.”
“Understood.” She wasn’t quite at the same point as him. And that was all right.
She’d get there. He’d just be patient. If there was one thing Remy knew how to be, it was patient.
“I’m, uh . . . I’m sorry I hit you. And then kind of blamed you.”
“Kind of blamed me?” His lips quirked at her awkward apology.
She huffed out a breath, giving him an irritated look. But he caught her lips twitching. “Fine, fully blamed you.” She rubbed at her forehead. “I still don’t understand how I didn’t wake up as soon as you walked in. I’m a light sleeper. It’s always been annoying because I struggle to sleep and I slept through you coming back.”