Wildest Dreams (The Wilds of Montana #3) Read Online Kristen Proby

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Wilds of Montana Series by Kristen Proby
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
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“I can’t wait. Have a good day, all of you. I’d better get back.”

She hustles out the door, and I turn to find Ryan watching me intently.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No.” He shakes his head and takes a bite of his sandwich. “You’re a good businesswoman.”

Coming from the likes of Ryan Wild, the owner and CEO of Wild Enterprises, a multi-billion-dollar company, that’s a huge compliment.

“Thanks.” I raise my sandwich to tap to his in cheers.

God, I’m tired. Down-to-the-marrow-of-my-bones tired.

But I’m also incredibly satisfied with all the work that I got done today.

It’s past dark when I get home and shuffle into the bedroom, strip out of the yoga pants and tank that I wore to work today, and put on a loose T-shirt and sweats. Then I pad into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of crisp white wine before walking out back to my little patio.

Mac was here earlier this week and power-washed the patio for me, cleaned up my little patio swing, and got the gas fireplace ready to fire up.

So, I start the fire and sit in the swing, gently rocking back and forth as I take in the fragrant spring air.

The birds have settled down, and now I can hear the buzz of a few insects and the engine of a car as they drive past on the road out front. I can smell someone’s grill and the burgers or steak they cooked on it, and it makes my empty stomach grumble.

I haven’t eaten anything since the sandwich this afternoon, and that was long ago and far away.

But I’m too tired to put anything together, and the stove in the kitchen isn’t working anyway. Who has time for house repairs when they have a business to run? Mac would probably fix it for me, but I keep forgetting to mention it.

I’m hardly ever here, so it seems silly to put that at the top of the priority list.

My phone pings with a text, and I grin when I see Summer’s name. She’s my best friend and owns Paula’s Poseys, the floral shop just across from my own. Someone set her business on fire last fall, and she’ll be reopening in a couple of weeks, just in time for wedding season.

Summer: I’m coming to help you tomorrow. You can’t say no.

I laugh and sip my wine. As much as I love touching each piece of clothing myself, with as tired as I am tonight, I know that I need the extra hands if I’m going to open by Monday.

Me: Not saying no! I can use your help, and we can gossip and eat chocolate. Win-win. Come in anytime. I’ll be there by 8.

I check the time. Shit, eight o’clock is in roughly seven hours, so I’d better to go bed.

But I love it out here on my little patio. I like the sounds and smells of the neighborhood. It feels good to know that although my house is old and small and has so much that needs to be fixed up, it’s mine. I worked hard for it. This little piece of the world belongs to me, and I love it here.

My eyes have started to droop, so I finish my wine and go inside, locking the door behind me, then rinse my wineglass out before setting it on the drainer. I need a shower, so I head off for the bathroom. My bathroom is tiny, and it’s the only one in the two-bedroom house. The tub always looks dirty, even though I scrub it weekly. The sink needs to be caulked, and the mirror is cracked in the corner.

I didn’t do that, so I didn’t get the seven years of bad luck from it.

By the time I’m clean, lotioned, and dry, I feel like I’m going to fall over, so I do just that. I’m face down on my pillow, ready to drift off to sleep.

But I’m already excited for tomorrow.

CHAPTER TWO

RYAN

One of the CC TV screens on the wall wakes up, catching my attention. Motion has to have triggered it, and I narrow my eyes, watching closely, but I don’t see anything. My property is locked down tight, and I have a security team that discreetly and fiercely protects my home twenty-four seven, so if there is anything out there, they’ll find it. Most of the time, it’s an animal that triggers the cameras, so I’m not particularly worried about it. But once in a while, it’s a situation.

It would be nice to be in a position to not need the guards all the time, but this is the downside of what I do and who I am.

I take my glasses off and set them on my desk, then rub my hands over my face and reach for my coffee, scowling when I find the mug empty.


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