Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“That’s big, baby. I’m proud of you.”
Seeing the look in his eyes, my chest warms. “Thank you.” I lean up to touch my mouth to his, and he meets me halfway, and then he makes it even better when he brushes his tongue against the inside edge of my bottom lip.
“How much alcohol is in that drink?” He nods to the bucket.
“I don’t know. A whole bottle of tequila?”
“That’s what it tastes like,” he mutters, and I snort then cover my mouth and glance around the table, finding Bax with a smirk on his face and Harry looking like he’d rather be anywhere other than here.
“Sorry,” Harry says when his phone rings pulling it out of his pocket, checking the screen before looking around at us. “I’ve got to take this. You mind letting me out?” he asks Bax, who stands, and once he’s out of the booth, he puts his phone to his ear as he walks away.
“Is that guy always so pompous?” Bax mutters when Harry is out of earshot.
“I don’t know him well, but I’m starting to think so,” I reply as I wave my hand in front of my face in an attempt to cool myself down. “Is it hot in here?”
“It’s not hot.” Bax pushes a cup of ice water across the table toward me, and Talon picks it up, placing the straw near my mouth. “You’re just drunk.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Babe, you’re totally drunk. You got the flush.” Bax points at my face.
“What do you mean?” I dig into my bag until I find my phone then turn on the camera. When I see the redness on the tip of my nose that has traveled across my cheeks, I groan. “I can’t be drunk. I’m meeting your parents today.”
“Don’t laugh at me,” I hiss at him, which only seems to make him laugh harder, and then I turn my attention to Talon. “I can’t be drunk and meet your parents.”
“Baby.” His eyes soften as he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “It’s fine. You’ll sober up by the time we go see them.”
“Oh God.” I lean forward, resting my head in my hands. “Why am I such a lightweight? I really should have taken Cece’s advice and built up my alcohol tolerance,” I whimper, listening to Bax laugh again then feeling Talon tense at my side.
“Sorry,” Harry says as he clears his throat, and somehow I manage to lift my head that feels like it weights fifty pounds out of my hands to look at him. “I have to head out. Something came up. I’ve already taken care of the bill, so enjoy your lunch.”
“Oh.” I try to think of something else to say, but nothing is coming to mind, because I’m still having a mental breakdown about the fact that I’m supposed to meet Talon’s mom and dad in just a few hours, and I don’t know if I will be sober by then.
“Have a good lunch.” He looks between us before he pulls his ringing phone out of his pocket and walks away.
“Please tell me that you learned something and that I’m not drunk for no reason,” I plead, looking between Bax and Talon.
“You mean besides the fact that he’s a douche?” Bax asks.
“Yes, besides that,” I groan while I cover my face with my hands.
“He works for his dad,” Talon says, resting his hand on my back. “And if I’m right, his dad is Roscoe Brute.”
“His last name is Charmers,” I tell them, knowing that information from his ID that I’ve seen and the paperwork he filled out on the paperwork today.
“Harry Charmers.” Bax chuckles, and I glare at him, having a feeling that his brother gives him the same look I do, judging by his fading expression.
“What?” He looks between Talon and me. “You have to admit that shit’s funny.”
Ignoring Bax, I focus on Talon. “Who’s Roscoe?”
“He’s one of the biggest developers in the area. When we had lunch the other day, that’s who he was meeting.”
“Being a developer is bad?” I ask, not understanding.
“When you use money and fear tactics to push people off their land and out of their homes, it is,” Bax says, sounding suddenly somber.
“I don’t know how it is in Montana, baby—” Talon gains my attention by touching my cheek. “—but here, land is being eaten up by big corporations, and when that happens, generations of families lose the thing that has kept them and maybe hundreds of others fed for years.”
“Isn’t it their choice if they want to sell or not?” I ask before gulping down some more water.
“It is, but it isn’t. When a farmer’s land is suddenly surrounded by housing developments, it makes it difficult for them not to give in when someone offers them thousands if not millions of dollars for their land,” Talon explains.