Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
The land around us is a kaleidoscope of colors. The changing leaves; the flawless, wide-open sky; the pale rise of canyons in the distance—it all makes my heart beat a little faster.
Glancing at Sawyer, I take in his narrowed eyes, the way he chews on his bottom lip. I know he’s thinking about Ella. I also know he’s tired as all get-out, but he’ll never complain because he loves being her dad.
I look at Duke and Ryder, who finally fucking listened and are following us to the barn. Despite the chill in the air, their shirts are soaked with sweat. They mouth off a lot, but they do work hard.
We make a good team. And maybe that’s enough.
It should be enough, being surrounded by people who know and love me. Working my dream job in a place this beautiful. Continuing to build my family’s legacy.
But there’s still this ache in me, this longing for more. I know that’s ultimately because I’m too chickenshit to let people in—to let them truly know me. Being the Wyatt Rivers is a mask I wear. The guy who’s the life of the party, the one who gambles and fucks and jokes—it’s a caricature I created, a way to keep people at arm’s length.
I’ve got too many responsibilities now to risk falling into the darkness—to risk falling down on my family when they need me most.
My brothers and I crest a hill, the horse barn and its corral coming into view in the little valley below. Everything about the Luck side of the ranch is beautiful, including the barn. It’s enormous, a circular crow’s nest dotted with windows rising from the center of its gabled roof. The barn is painted a rich chocolate brown, and Mollie had Lucky River Ranch’s new horseshoe-shaped logo painted in yellow above the huge doors that mark the main entrance.
But it’s not the barn that makes my heart beat faster.
Nah, that flutter’s on account of the familiar figure I see hanging out by the corral, her chestnut hair gleaming in the sun.
I put my gum back in its wrapper. Then I’m urging Joker into a sprint again before I even know what I’m doing, the two of us thundering down the hill.
“I see you, Daddy,” Ryder calls from behind me, his voice laced with laughter.
I raise my arm and flip him the bird.
I should probably play it cool. Try to at least make it look like I’m not nursing a raging case of unrequited love and/or blue balls. Sally is probably the most dangerous person of all to be around right now. If anyone can see behind my mask, it’s her. I let her see me, the real me—the heartbroken, devastated boy who’d just lost his mother—that day we kinda, sorta skinny-dipped in the river, and look how that turned out. When she left the day after the funeral, I felt so destroyed that I was sure I’d die from it.
But then my best friend holds a hand up to her forehead and grins, her dimple so deep that I can see it from here.
Fuck being cool.
I don’t miss the way her eyes flick over my body when I pull Joker to a stop beside her, just far enough so that the dust we kick up doesn’t get on her clothes.
“Ma’am.” I touch my fingers to the brim of my hat. “Wasn’t expecting to see you out here today.”
Sally is at Lucky River Ranch a lot. It’s awesome. And awful. If she’s out here at the barn, it’s because she’s tending to our animals. As foreman, I would know about that. If she’s not with the animals, then she’s in the kitchen at the New House, helping Patsy prepare a meal.
It’s not totally out of character for Sally to visit us cowboys unannounced. But her just showing up like this has alarm bells going off inside my head.
Or maybe that’s just last night’s leftover vibes coming back to haunt me. Everything about my interaction with Sally felt undeniably real, and I’m still recovering from the emotional hangover that gave me.
Sally holds up a gigantic thermos. “I made mulled cider.”
“You spike it?”
“Of course I spiked it. Thought y’all might want to warm up after working in the cold.”
This girl. Her kindness. Her thoughtfulness. That pretty smile. And the whiskey I know she put in that cider. It’ll be Jack Daniel’s. My favorite. Our favorite.
Aw, Sunshine, how could I not fall head over boots for you?
I smile down at her. “Cold’s not too bad now that the sun’s up.”
“You sayin’ you’re gonna make me drink alone?”
I love how her accent gets thicker the longer she’s home.
“I got work to do. I’m the boss now.”
Her dimple makes another appearance. “You are.”
“My brothers would chew me out for playing hooky.”
“I bet they would.”
“It’s not even noon.”