Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“You don’t think you’ll get tired of being out in the middle of nowhere and want to go back?”
I got the feeling that he was asking me not purely as an innocent question. There was something more to it. I wanted to ask him if the question had a deeper meaning, but I didn’t. I promised him I wouldn’t be nosy, and I truly didn’t want to seem like I was dissecting his every word to me.
“No. This is where I want to be, where I want to raise a family someday, and I can get back into riding here. I thought it might be fun to even teach horseback riding in the future.”
“Ah, hell, Lincoln, not that fancy English-riding shit.”
Hitting him on the shoulder, I replied, “Western. But I can teach English if I need to.”
He smiled, and my heart felt like it skipped a beat.
“Besides, I’ve talked Kaylee into moving here, and she’s hell bent on doing so. It’ll be good for her to leave behind the past that haunts her in Atlanta.”
Brock got out of the truck and quickly made his way to my door. He reached his hand out for me and helped me down. I wanted to ignore the way that made my stomach feel . . . like I had a dance party going on in there. Or the way a deliciously warm feeling had settled in the middle of my chest, something I’d never experienced.
“What’s her story?”
“Kaylee’s?”
He nodded.
“Her fiancé died two years ago, and she sort of fell apart. It took her a while to even get back into the normal swing of things. She was pretty depressed, and it took a lot of bestie time and a good therapist to finally pull her out of it. I’ve noticed, here, she seems like her old self. Ready to move on and maybe even date.”
Brock held the door to the restaurant open for me. “Well, I should probably go ahead and have you warn her that my brother seems to be taken with her. And, trust me when I say, he’s not the relationship type.”
“I don’t think that would be a problem for Kaylee. She seems to want to . . . sow some wild oats, if you get my drift.”
He chuckled. “Ty would be the one to help with that.”
I grinned and silently prayed he hadn’t noticed my entire body shudder when he placed his hand on my lower back and guided me over to the hostess.
Why do I like that so much? Has no other guy done that before?
Surely, they had; it had just never affected me like this.
“Table for two?” the young hostess asked.
“Yes, please,” Brock said politely.
Glancing around the restaurant, I couldn’t help but grin. It was charming: exactly the type of place I would imagine two people going on a first date. It was only when we were walking through the dining room that I noticed everyone looking at us.
“We seem to be the center of attention,” I stated as we sat down.
He took a quick look around and flashed a bright smile, tipping his cowboy hat to a few people.
“Mr. Lanser, Mrs. Lanser, how y’all doing?”
“Oh, very good. How is the bull riding going, son?” Mrs. Lanser asked.
“Doing pretty good. You going to come watch me ride in Billings this weekend?”
The older woman blushed. She actually blushed. “No! It would be fun, but I don’t think I could stand to see you get hurt.”
Brock winked as he said, “There’s a reason I’m number one right now.”
Mr. Lanser rumbled out a deep laugh. “That’s our boy. Make Hamilton proud, son.”
Brock tipped his cowboy hat again and replied, “Will do.”
When he looked my way, he smiled. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I think it’s great that they support you.”
His eyes seemed to light up. I couldn’t help but wonder why my compliment seemed to make him so happy.
The waiter came over and took our drink order before offering us a few minutes to look at the menu.
“See anything you like?” Brock asked as he studied the menu.
I chewed on my lip as I let my eyes take him in. I wanted to say yes: I saw something I liked very much that had nothing to do with Italian and everything to do with a certain bull rider.
Looking down at the menu before Brock caught me ogling him, I replied, “I think the chicken fettuccine sounds good.”
I could feel Brock looking at me, so I glanced up.
By the expression on his face, I wondered if I had made a bad choice. “What? Is it no good here?”
“It’s just nice to see a woman order something other than a damn salad.”
I giggled. “Well, I can tell you, I have a healthy appetite, hence the reason I run every day, do yoga, and try to get in some other sorts of crazy exercise to keep my body guessing.”