On the Wild Side (The Wilds of Montana #4) Read Online Kristen Proby

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Sports, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Wilds of Montana Series by Kristen Proby
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
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“I just caught you.” I grin at Summer as I walk into her store. “Sorry, would have been here sooner, but the roads were shit. Hey, Chase.”

My brother, Chase, is standing by the counter, obviously waiting for his wife to finish working for the day.

“It’s bad enough out there that I’m taking Summer home with me, and we’ll get her car tomorrow,” Chase says.

“Good idea. That bend at Half Moon is icy. Be careful.”

“Will do,” Chase says with a nod.

“I have your flowers ready,” Summer says with a big grin and hurries into the big walk-in refrigerator where she keeps the flowers. She returns with a clear plastic box holding a corsage of purple roses and a bouquet of pink and orange flowers whose name is completely lost on me.

“Nice,” Chase says with a grin. “All of that for Daisy?”

“Fuck off,” I warn him, but my brother’s smile only grows. “I can’t take flowers to one and not the other.”

“Right, ‘cause that would be rude,” Chase says, and Summer rolls her eyes.

“Be nice to your brother,” she tells her husband. “He’s doing a really fun, cute thing for that little girl.”

“Yeah,” I agree, making Chase laugh.

“It is nice of you,” he concedes. “And you look…spiffy.”

“I don’t want to have to punch you and get blood all over my outfit.”

“I’m in uniform,” he points out. “I don’t want to have to arrest you for assaulting an officer.”

I smirk and pay Summer for the flowers.

“Be careful out there,” I call out to them as I walk to the door.

“Have fun,” Summer calls back.

Abbi lives in a little neighborhood of townhomes on the edge of town. It’s a newer area, with a park for Daisy and sidewalks and trees. It’s a nice part of town, which makes me feel good because I know that they’re safe.

And I don’t even want to think about why that’s something I worry about.

I pull into the driveway of Abbi’s end unit and cut the engine, and with the flowers in hand, I make my way to the door, which is immediately opened by Daisy, who is currently jumping up and down in her ruffly purple dress.

“You’re here! You’re here!”

“Well, hello there, Princess.” I wink at her and step inside when Abbi gestures, keeping most of the cold outside. When the door is closed, I offer Abbi her bouquet of flowers, and her gorgeous blue eyes soften. “For you.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” But she buries her nose in a bloom and fusses over them in that way that women do that makes a man feel like he gave them the world. “Thank you.”

“And for my gorgeous date, we have this.” I present the box, and Daisy frowns down at it.

“What is it?”

“A corsage,” Abbi says with a laugh. “Come on, let me set these in the kitchen, and we’ll get the corsage on you, baby.”

“Okay.” Daisy takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen. I like this townhome, with its open floor plan. This floor is just the kitchen and living room, with a door out to the garage, and another that I assume is a half bath.

The bedrooms are upstairs.

“You look handsome,” Daisy says with a bright smile. “And your tie matches my dress!”

“I heard a rumor that you’d be wearing purple.”

Daisy giggles. “I told you, silly.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Well, your dress is super pretty, and your hair is all curly.”

“Mommy did it,” she says shyly, gently touching the curls that fall around her shoulders.

“Here, I know how to do this, thanks to prom about a million years ago,” Abbi says as she takes the corsage out of the box and slips the wristband around Daisy’s wrist, tightening it to fit.

“This way,” Daisy says, “it’s easier for me to sniff them.”

She does and then closes her eyes, as if it’s the best thing she’s ever smelled.

“Good?” Abbi asks.

“I’m gonna smell them all night. Can we go now?”

“Pictures first,” Abbi says, grabbing her phone. “Here, stand by the fireplace.”

We pose for photos. In some, I’m holding Daisy’s hand. In others, I’m squatting next to her, and she has her arms around my neck.

It all makes me wonder where her father is. Who would willingly miss out on something this great?

Before long, we’re on our way to the school where the dance is being held. Daisy’s in the back seat of my 4Runner, chatting away.

The kid never shuts up, but it’s kind of cute.

“Robert is nice,” she says, “but he has red hair.”

“You don’t like red hair?”

I glance in the rearview and see her frown, thinking it over. “I do. Polly has red hair, and I like her.”

“Okay, so what’s wrong with his red hair?”

“It’s just…I can’t say because Mom says it’s mean.”

I frown back at her. “You’re not a mean girl.”

“I know. Okay, if I tell you, you can’t tell Mom I said it.”


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