Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Cops are on their way,” Scott says, but I ignore him and punch the asshole again.
And again.
“Tucker.”
Her sweet voice pushes through the anger, and her hands are on my shoulders, and it pulls me out of the red rage filling my vision enough to make me stop pummeling the asshole.
I knew I shouldn’t have left her with him.
“I’m fine. He didn’t do anything. He didn’t have time.”
I’m heaving as I stand and glare down at Peter, who’s holding his jaw and scowling up at me.
“If you move from that spot, I’ll break your fucking arm,” I growl at him before turning to Darby and framing her face in my hands. “Are you hurt, Duchess?”
“No. I’m not hurt. A little rattled, and a whole lot pissed off, but not hurt.”
I tug her into my arms and rub my hand up and down her back, turning so I can watch Peter, who’s still on the ground.
Sirens fill the air, and I turn to Scott, nodding at him.
“Go to your wife. Text me when the baby comes.”
“Thanks, boss,” he says but looks down at Darby. “But are you sure? I can stay—”
“You’re having a baby. Get out of here.”
He nods and rushes off to his truck. Seconds later, Easton comes running into the barn and stops cold, taking in the scene.
“I’m pressing charges,” Darby says before anyone else can say anything as she wiggles out of my arms and points at Peter. “He assaulted me, and I’m pressing charges.”
Easton glances at me, then at Darby, and finally at Peter.
“What is it with you and your inability to keep your fucking hands to yourself?” Easton demands, and Peter spits on the ground.
“She asked for it.”
Easton pins me in place with a glare before I can punch the asshole again, and Darby laughs.
She fucking laughs.
“Oh, trust me, I didn’t ask for it, you sick moron. Number one, you’re not my type. Number two, I told you no several times. And number three, if I’d asked for it, you wouldn’t have had to try to wrestle me to the ground. You’re pathetic. I hope they put you away and throw away the fucking key.”
I think I just fell in love with her.
Seriously.
How do you not love this woman?
“Come on,” Easton says, pulling Peter to his feet.
“You’re arresting me?” Peter demands, resisting, trying to pull out of Easton’s grasp, but my brother is a badass and has no problem keeping the other man in hand.
“I don’t know yet,” Easton replies, sounding bored. “I’m taking you to my car so I can talk to Darby without you giving her shit.”
When they leave the barn, I slip my hand into Darby’s, and she links her fingers with mine, holding on tight. I feel a slight tremor in her touch, and it makes me want to pull Peter back in here and pound his face into the dirt.
“Talk to me, Duchess.”
“I’m going to need a shot of whiskey after this.” She clears her throat. “To start.”
“You got it. You can have anything you want.”
“Okay, now that dickhead is safely in the back of my squad car, tell me what happened,” Easton says as he strides back into the barn, looking right at Darby.
“He was working on the horses. Their hooves. I was also working with the horses, but I would lead them to the paddock to brush them and coo over them.”
She goes over the past hour with us, and it all sounds pretty normal, until she gets to the last few minutes of being alone with Peter.
“And then he turned . . . predatory. That’s the only word I have for it. He clearly doesn’t like to be told no.”
Easton nods. “Did he put his hands on you?”
“Yes.” She doesn’t hesitate and doesn’t flinch.
My brave girl.
“Did he hit you?”
“No, he grabbed my shirt and got it pulled up under my armpits and tried to kiss me, which made me throw up in my mouth a little. Gross.”
She definitely needs whiskey to clean that off her palate.
“When I pulled up, I saw him attack her, and I got him off her.”
Easton turns to me. “And what did you do?”
“I told Scott to call the cops, then punched the fuck out of him, and if you’d let him out of the car, I’ll do it again.”
My brother’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t smile. He’s in work mode.
“I’m pressing assault charges,” Darby insists again. “There’s no way he gets away with that bullshit.”
“Good. That’s his third strike, so if it sticks, he’ll be going away for a long while,” Easton says. “I have everything I need here. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.”
He leaves the barn, and I turn to console my girl, but she’s already walking outside, carrots in hand, to the horses.
“I’m sorry that took so long,” I hear her saying to Jed, one of my horses, as she feeds him a carrot, then reaches for her brush and starts to run it over his coat. “I think Jed here was the last of the horses, so they all got their hooves done.”