Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
He chuckled, rich and sexy, which was deeply inconvenient for the moan I was barely suppressing.
Eyeing me carefully, he slipped his feet into a pair of Nike slides and then walked to a duffle bag resting on top of Zoey’s pink and purple trunk outside Snickers’ stall. “You sure you’re okay?”
No, I was not okay. I was drooling over my bodyguard who was indeed a dick…most of the time.
Except for last night, when he’d curled his hand around my neck, causing chills to explode across my skin. His gaze had been so tender as he searched my face, vowing to keep me safe. It had been equal parts sweet and dangerously sexy, the kind of touch that made my brain short-circuit. One second he’d been his usual grumpy professional, and the next he’d been standing too close, his fingerprints branding my skin. I couldn’t help myself when I’d followed him into the bathroom, acting like I was getting ready for bed just to see if he was as affected by the moment as I had been.
I wanted more of the guy who was funny and sweet, teasing me about show choir and sharing stories from his past.
But, if I were being honest, that wasn’t the only “more” I’d been thinking about.
I aimed a Lofton Beck specialty smile his way. “I’m fine. Coffee wouldn’t hurt, though.”
His face fell flat. “And that’s my cue to leave.” He carried his bag to the barn’s tiny half-bathroom. “I don’t know anywhere in this town that would have a quad-shot blonde espresso over ice with sugar-free vanilla syrup and liquid stevia so it doesn’t taste like candles. You are on your own there.”
I bit my lip to stifle a laugh. “I’m impressed you remember my order. I’m still sorry about that. It was a tough morning and—”
He lifted a hand to interrupt me. “No apology needed. We all have off days. Though you ever want to right a wrong with me, there’s nothing I won’t forgive for another one of those pizzas from last night.” He gave me a chin jerk and then shut the door to the bathroom, simultaneously putting me out of my misery and robbing me of my sexy little peepshow.
Silently chastising myself, I made a mental note to make another pizza crust and then got busy in the feed room, prepping buckets of grain and supplements. I had just finished dumping the horses’ breakfast when Devon reappeared from the bathroom.
Tight jeans.
White t-shirt.
Brown work boots that had clearly never seen a day of actual labor.
My mouth dried.
He dropped his bag on the concrete aisle and scanned up and down the barn. “All right. Where should I start?”
“Start what?”
He slanted his head. “I thought we were feeding the horses?”
“You don’t have to help. That’s not your job.”
“No, but we need to go over some things, and I figured we could knock ‘em out at the same time.” His gaze snagged on something hanging beside Snickers’ stall. He walked over, grabbed the lead rope, and slung it over his shoulder, mirroring me.
My lips pressed together.
Mr. Observant Bodyguard must have clocked when I’d grabbed Salty’s and decided a lead rope over the shoulder was a necessary part of the routine. I didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. Honestly, it was kind of adorable.
“Do you have experience with horses?” I asked.
He planted his hands on his hips. “Not particularly. The closest thing I ever got to farm life was a petting zoo in elementary school.” He paused and winced. “A llama spit in my face.”
My eyes widened. “Wow. A llama and my dad. You must have one of those faces.”
He shot me a bored scowl, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
Before I got caught in his web of gorgeousness again, I got my feet moving. “Well, you should be safe out here. None of our animals spit.” Finished with his breakfast, the old gray gelding hung his head over his door. I slid under his neck, rubbing his muzzle. “This is Daddy’s horse, Salty.”
Concern filled Devon’s face. “Jenn said he bites.”
Grinning, I put my hand under his mouth. His lips flapped over my palm, gently searching for a treat. “Jenn was giving you shit. He’s a good boy. At least from the ground. He used to be a handful under saddle. Dumped me more than a few times. But he and my dad clicked. Nobody’s been on him in years. We like to say they retired together.” I reached down and slid the lock on his door open.
Devon backed away as the horse exited his stall. “Wait, wait, wait…don’t you need to put this thing on him?” He lifted the lead rope my way.
I patted Salty on the rear end as he casually lumbered past us toward the open pasture gate. “Nah. He’s spent twenty-five years on this farm. He knows the drill.”