Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
“And that, my friend, is how it’s done,” Tallulah says when I finally take my seat beside her again. It’s then I notice she’s eaten the rest of my funnel cake and drank all my drink.
“You’re lucky I love you, or I’d make you go stand in the concession stand line,” I grumble.
“Please. I’ll wait till Lane comes back and tell him you’re hungry. He’ll do the rest. And I’d be jealous of you if you weren’t my best friend.”
“If you’d open your eyes, you’d see there’s a cowboy with hungry eyes staring right at you,” I reply. She shuts her mouth rather quickly and looks up. “Finally, she pays attention.” I settle back and enjoy the show. My best friend could potentially become my sister-in-law. Let the matchmaking begin.
EPILOGUE
LANE
Two Weeks Later
“Birdie, I think it’s time we talk.” I walk through the house after a day of mending fences. I swear to fuck, if that big mean bull doesn’t quit trampling the barbed wire to get to the heifers next door, I’m going to take him to the auction myself. It seems like once a freaking month, I have to fix his fuckup, and then we have to call Herbert’s, who sends out Tully to clean up the wounds we can’t. We could bypass the whole process and put the money in Tallulah’s back pocket, except she’s one headstrong woman.
“What do you mean we need to talk? Is something wrong with the family?” she asks, standing at the stove making dinner.
“No.”
“Rocky?” Lately, he’s been glued to my side when I leave after doing my morning work.
“Nope.”
“Maple or Willow?”
“Everyone is fine. It’s you we need to talk about.” Her eyebrows shoot up, and she stops kneading the dough she was working on. Eleanor gave Birdie some sourdough starter, and she’s been on a kick ever since. There’s a fresh loaf waiting when we’re down to the last few slices, and I’m not complaining a bit. Birdie in the kitchen, Birdie with the animals, Birdie working, and Birdie when I’ve got her naked in any way will always be my favorite.
“What do you mean?” She drops the dough into the loaf pan to rest, throws a towel on top of it, and then moves to the sink.
“Baby, you’ve been home for how long now? We haven’t used protection, and you’ve not had a period. It’s time to take a test.” After work, I went into town. I didn’t want to drive to the nearest grocery store, which is damn near thirty minutes away. The next closest place is one of those damn dollar stores. It’s as good as any other place, even though they jack the price up for convenience. This couldn’t wait.
“Um, Lane, how do you know so much about my body?” Birdie washes and dries her hands. I walk closer, the bag swinging in my fingers, and Rocky climbs out of his bed, stretching like he’s worked all day. I dropped him off before heading to the store. Birdie wasn’t in the kitchen, so she probably didn’t even notice. Once she’s in the zone, she’s in the zone, especially with work or in the kitchen. She tunes everything out or wears headphones to tune the background noise out. I didn’t understand the need at first until she explained that in college, there wasn’t a choice. Dorm life wasn’t about studying for her roommate. Partying was. The library wasn’t much better either, so now it’s something she does automatically. Tallulah does the same thing apparently, except hers is to listen to romance novels. Both the girls have a wine night once a week and talk about their latest read. That’ll be coming to an end if my suspicions are right, the wine aspect at least.
“Babe, my dick has been in you nonstop. Besides the one night Law and I went down to Colorado. You think any kinda man wouldn’t put two and two together?” I drop the bag on the counter. The three boxes of pregnancy tests tumble out. There were a lot to choose from, one claiming to be an early response, another claiming to have the fastest response time, and then another cheaper one.
“I think you may have gone overboard, Lane,” she says, eying the counter. A tentative hand reaches for the early response box, and I think the idea is finally settling in.
“Maybe, maybe not. Figure they don’t expire, so they’ll eventually get used.” I watch as her unoccupied hand trembles as it goes to her mouth, and that’s enough of that. “Take the test, Birdie. I’m here, always. I’m never letting you go again. You set out to achieve your goals. Now it’s time we accomplish the ones we want to achieve together.” I round the corner. My hands cup her cheeks, and she moves her hand away from her mouth to hold my wrists.