Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Her nipples sharpened.
Damn it. What was up with her body? She’d seen hot guys before.
But hot, bloody, and tough? Who knew that was enthralling?
She stayed out of the way but watched as Dawn sat and started to work. Adam didn’t even flinch. He looked more like a cowboy today in torn jeans, the flannel, and a cowboy hat he’d already tossed on the counter. Now was probably the wrong time to ask about filming there. But damn, even this kitchen was perfect.
Way too perfect.
Adam sat at the kitchen table and braced his boots against the chair rungs, locking his jaw while Dawn threaded the needle like she’d done it a thousand times—which, knowing her, she probably had. She moved with the quiet competence of someone who’d grown up stitching her brothers whenever necessary. Heck. She probably had more than one scar on her from home-made stitches. She’d been ranching her entire life.
The pain registered inside him with a sharp ache, hot burn, and a tug that made his arm twitch before he forced it still. Muscle memory kicked in, reminding him to breathe and refrain from flinching. Pain was just information, after all. He’d learned that early.
This was nothing. Annoying, sure, but nothing compared to dust and heat and the kind of wounds that came with screaming and smoke and men yelling for medics. Compared to that, this was almost civilized. This felt clean and controlled. This was a kitchen that smelled like coffee and antiseptic instead of blood and fear, with sunlight slanting in through a window and a woman calmly stitching him up like it was no big deal.
What threw him was Bianca.
She stood near the counter with her hands clenched together and her face pale enough that it caught his attention even through the sting in his arm. He’d noticed things like that in the field—small shifts, subtle tells. The body never lied. A few minutes ago, she’d been barefoot in the dirt, her knees muddy, that wild mass of hair pulled back away from her pretty face.
She’d looked comfortable and happy, even. Laughing easily as if gardening in the middle of Montana wasn’t a novelty or a distraction but a hobby she genuinely enjoyed. He hadn’t expected that. Hell, he hadn’t been prepared for how natural she’d looked doing it, or how quickly that image had burned itself into his head and refused to leave.
That wasn’t who she was. He knew that. She was a city girl. From Hollywood, no less. Schedules and contracts and deadlines lived in her world. This trip to the mountains was temporary for her. A stopover. A pretty backdrop.
He forced his gaze away and back to the wall as Dawn tied off another stitch, the tug sharp enough to make his shoulder tense before he relaxed it again.
Bianca swayed.
Adam paused. “Hey.” He lowered his voice to a soft command. “Sit down.”
“I’m fine,” she said, which was a lie if he’d ever heard one.
“Chair,” he repeated, firmer now. He nodded toward the one beside the counter. “Now.”
She hesitated and then sat, letting out a breath she’d clearly been holding. “Blood doesn’t bother me,” she said weakly.
“Sure it does,” he said. “You’re human.” And cute. Way too cute.
Hawk snorted from the doorway.
Dawn shot him a look. “Don’t distract the doctor, Handsome.”
“Stop flirting with Hawk while you have a needle in my arm,” Adam drawled, gratified when Bianca gave a small smile.
Her phone buzzed, and she looked relieved to pull it from her back pocket and place at her ear. “Estrada,” she answered.
Last name. Like someone in an office in Hollywood. Yeah, Adam needed to remind himself of that fact. A lot.
Her head went back. “Excuse me? What do you mean they reneged?” Her gaze narrowed. “Someone got to them? What in the world does that mean?” She glanced over at Adam, her gaze distracted. “No. Well, yeah. I did tell—” She paused, her chin going down. “I’ll call you back, Clancy.” She ended the call.
Adam lifted an eyebrow. “Problem?”
Suspicion and then a series of different expressions crossed her face. “Apparently the Willoughby family decided they don’t want us filming at their farm. Yesterday they needed the money.”
Adam stared at her. “Privacy is more important than money.”
Her eyes flashed. “You’re the only person I told, Adam. Did you talk them out of working with us? Did you threaten them?”
“Of course not,” he said. He would never threaten his friends. Geez. “Guess they just changed their minds.”
She crossed her arms. “Then they’ll have to change it back. I’m going out there today, and if I find out you messed with our deal, you’ll regret it.” The woman looked like a hissing cat, all cute and indignant.
He knew better than to say that. “Oh yeah? What exactly would you do about it, Baby?”
She blushed, making her look even more enticing. Yeah. His city girl liked to be called endearments. He would use that.