Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
What if Bay could?
“You are not going to touch him,” Brooke vowed. “We’ll be out of here as soon as I can pack up.”
“That is not what we’re saying…” Rye began.
Paige watched the whole awful scene play out with wide eyes. “Momma’s going to be real mad.”
Max moved to stand by his brother, and she prepared herself for the worst. “You need some space, little sister?”
Something eased inside her. “I do. I thought I could get it here, but I can’t.”
Rye looked to Max, and they seemed to have one of those psychic conversations they had all the time. She often wondered what it felt like to have someone who always knew what you were thinking. Always was connected to.
Bay’s hand came down on her shoulder, silent proof that he was there.
It was supposed to be a crazy one-night stand. He was supposed to be disposable, a conquest of sorts. Evidence that she could go wild from time to time. He wasn’t supposed to make her feel…safe.
“Go talk to Marie,” Max advised. “Or Stella. I don’t know if anyone’s staying in the apartment above the café right now. I think the Texas crew’s cabins are all open. She’ll give you a discount.”
“But I don’t want my auntie to leave,” Paige protested. “Momma don’t want her to leave neither.”
“Paige,” Brooke admonished.
Paige shrugged and sighed. “Momma doesn’t want her to leave either.”
Rye picked her up. “Your aunt will be back. She needs some time.”
“Like a time out? I don’t like those.” Paige wrapped her arms around her dad’s shoulders. “I don’t think we should put Aunt Brooke in a time out.”
Oh, but she could use one.
“She’s not in trouble,” Rye said, his expression grim. He looked over at Brooke, his eyes on the hand on her shoulder. “Take the Jeep.”
“I’m not taking the Jeep. You might need it. I’ll be fine. We’ll wait for Shane.” It was weird for things to be so awkward. This was her home, and it suddenly felt like it wasn’t.
Rye started to argue.
Max held up a hand. “She’ll figure it out, and if she needs us, she’ll call.” He turned to Brooke. “I’m a phone call away. Maybe when you feel comfortable we can have a family dinner.”
“We’ll be there,” Bay offered.
Oh, that seemed like a bad idea.
Max looked like a man who’d caught something in his well-laid trap. “Excellent. Then we’ll discuss setting it up later. We’ll make sure the kids are all in bed so we can have a nice long get-to-know-you session since you’re apparently getting married.”
“Max,” she began.
“Oh, no, sister. We’re rolling with it for now.” He winked her way. “Honestly, I’ve always worried that you never push back. This is a good bit of rebellion since I’ll do anything you need me to do so you don’t make the horrible mistake of marrying beneath you.”
Rye seemed to pick up on Max’s vibes. “Yes, I think a nice formal dinner would be a good way to welcome those boys to the family. Suits and ties?”
“Absolutely,” Max agreed.
“Wait. What?” Bay suddenly didn’t sound so sure of himself. “I thought we were running away.”
She sighed because they couldn’t. As upset with them as she was, they were her brothers, and she had walked right into their trap.
* * * *
Shane wondered if this was a trap of some sort.
He stood in the middle of The Trading Post, the basket in his hand filled with two pounds of bacon and another dozen eggs because it looked like the Harper brothers could eat. He was still surprised Brooke hadn’t woken up when they invaded this morning. She’d managed to sleep through Max’s interrogation as he downed the bacon. Shane had taken it as a good excuse to avoid Paige Harper’s cowboy boots. He hoped Bay’s shins survived the experience.
Oddly, though, it wasn’t the Harper brothers he thought might be the trap. Nope. It was the twenty-something young lady in barely-there jean shorts, a crop top, and a cowboy hat covering her blonde hair. She was pretty, but he wasn’t interested.
Despite the fact that he was a somewhat attractive young man, he didn’t actually get hit on often.
Was she hitting on him? Or simply lost in the weirdness that was The Trading Post. It wasn’t a regular grocery store. It was an all-purpose store that sold almost everything but feed and heavy equipment. Marie had put that thought out there and found herself on the receiving end of an aggressive prayer circle led by Pastor Dennis of the befittingly named Feed Store Church. So The Trading Post only offered everything else and stayed far from what Marie called the feed racket.
Maybe Miss Forgot That Shirts Usually Had Bottom Halves was confused and looking for direction.
“I’m having such a hard time,” she confessed. “My sister sent me to get bacon, but I don’t cook. Is that a good brand?”