Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 104919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
“We had a love that lasted,” Harriet continued. “Not because it was special or different to anyone else’s, but because we worked at it, because I understood that my husband loved me but he didn’t always know how to show it. It might be that Montana men are bred to be tough so being soft is a little harder. But I think it’s men in general. My Duke’s a romantic at heart underneath all of his macho, tough-guy crap. Just needed a little push in the right direction.” She winked at me.
“How did he die? Your husband?” I asked the question before I understood how invasive and rude it was.
Harriet didn’t look to be offended, thankfully. “Ah, I’d like to say my Hugo—yes, Harriet and Hugo—went out guns blazing in a manner befitting the man he was, but life doesn’t work out that way. Death is rarely spectacular or the crescendo we expect it to be. He had a heart attack.” Harriet went back to looking out the window. There was a strength and resignation in her voice; it had been years, after all. But the look in her eyes told me she was looking at it like it was yesterday. Or today.
“He was out in the fields repairing fences. Fell down, didn’t get back up. I’m not gonna say he would’ve wanted to go that way because he wouldn’t have wanted to go at all. He still had many years ahead of him. We had a whole life to live.” She shrugged, looking back to me. “Things didn’t work out the way I wanted, they rarely do. Well, the big things at least. That’s why I make sure I’m in control of all the little stuff, like helping my grandson woo his woman.”
I carried Harriet’s words with me. Carried them around until they grew bigger, louder, and I couldn’t sleep with them inside me. Not even wrapped up in Duke’s arms.
“What are you doin’ out here?” he demanded, his voice a low growl. “It’s fuckin’ freezing and you’re wearin’ nothing but that nightie.” His hands fastened around my middle and he pulled my back to his front.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so he wasn’t one to talk. Then again, his skin was like a furnace against my own cold.
“In sayin’ that,” he said against my neck, “I fuckin’ love the nightie, babe.”
My shiver had nothing to do with the cold.
“Well, I have plenty more where this came from,” I replied.
He squeezed me. “Lookin’ forward to seeing every one of them.”
I stilled. At his words. Because of that statement. That statement that reached into the future, beyond this moment.
“But,” he said, interrupting those thoughts. “When I see them, they’ll be worn in temperatures where you’re not likely to catch hypothermia. I highly doubt you’ll be wearing them for very long.” He rubbed my arms. “So, back to my original question. What the fuck are you doin’ out here in the cold?”
I smiled at him, at all his macho. It should’ve pissed the feminist in me off. It should’ve felt more uncomfortable than the bite in the air against my bare skin. No one had ever been mad at me because I was standing out in the cold. No one had ever wanted me to be warm, safe…not without wanting a slew of other things.
I told myself that’s how I liked it.
I didn’t know how good I was at lying until now.
Instead of answering, I looked up. “The stars,” I whispered. “I’m out here because of the stars. I’ve never seen them like this before, seen the sky so open, been in a world so quiet I can actually hear the stars. Experience their...resonance.” Slowly, I moved my gaze to Duke. “Thank you for taking me somewhere I can hear the stars.”
“Wait, why didn’t you tell me there was a gym here?” I demanded with my hands on my hips.
Talking with Duke last night, I’d told him how much I’d missed my workout sessions. Then he’d raised his brows, moved his fingers down my belly right to the place between my legs that was still recovering from the way he’d fucked me.
“I thought I’ve been working you out pretty good,” he murmured. “But if you want more...”
He made good on his promise and my body and mind forgot all about gyms and workouts.
We’d gotten up earlier than usual to drive to the homestead where he parked and took me to a side door leading down to a basement gym.
A kick-ass basement gym.
This was almost as nice as the one I’d had installed at my house in LA—a house I couldn’t even call a home after staying here.
Duke’s arms went around my waist with my accusation. I was totally pissed off that he’d hid it from me this long. It was true I was getting thoroughly worked out by Duke, not to mention the work I’d been doing on the ranch, but there was something I craved about a workout.