Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
"Eve offered me a job at the gallery today. I start as soon as Redd hires someone else."
"Seriously?"
"Yep."
"Baby." He kisses me hard on the mouth, squeezing me against his chest. "I'm so fucking proud of you."
"Me too," I whisper. Maybe now—with him still inside me—isn't the right time to say it, but…"I think my mom would be proud of me too, you know?"
"Hey." He tips my head back with a hand along my jaw. "She'd be so fucking proud of you, Harlow."
Tears sting my eyes because he's right. Because he's the one who said it. Because I'm just…really fucking happy. For once, I'm happy.
Chapter Ten
Wade
"Yo, Wade!" Blaze shouts when I step out of the west barn, motioning at me from the trail leading toward the main offices. "Hudson wants to see you."
Fuck my life.
I hesitate midstep. For a split second, I consider turning right back around and heading back into the barn. Hudson can't boot me off the ranch if I keep avoiding him, right? Yeah, no. I've put off this conversation long enough.
No use continuing to avoid it.
I dust my hands on my pants and then stride toward Blaze, who looks solemn for once in his life.
"He say what it was about?" I ask, falling into step with him.
"Nope," he says. "But Dillon is in his office, so I'm guessing that has something to do with it."
"Motherfucker."
Blaze slaps me on the back. "Go handle your shit, man. It'll be fine."
"Says you," I mutter.
"He hired my wife when she was running from the law," he reminds me. "The fact that you spent a few hours in a holding cell isn't as big a deal as you think it is."
Easy for him to say. He doesn't have a ring burning a hole in his pocket. He and Morgan are already married. How the fuck am I supposed to provide for Harlow if Hudson gives me the boot? I don't know…and that's precisely why her ring is still in my pocket instead of on her finger.
I need this shit settled. But I'm also worried as hell that it'll end with me unemployed, unable to provide for her. Or, worse, me in jail. Hell will freeze over before I ask her to take care of me. Her life is finally on track. I won't be the thing fucking it up.
She deserves better than that.
I'm sweating by the time I make it to the main building.
"Hey," Morgan chirps, grinning at me from—naturally—the very top of a ladder. I don't know if she's dusting the shelves or reading, but Blaze is going to lose his shit.
"Blaze is going to lose his shit if he finds out you're up there," I tell her, my hands planted on my hips.
"Who's going to tell him?"
"Me, unless you get down."
She scowls at me like she wants to set me on fire. "You know what? You guys were way more fun before I got pregnant. I can't wait to have this baby so I can teach her to help me terrorize all of you. We're going to be unstoppable."
"You already are," I chuckle, holding the ladder as she waddles down. No fucking way am I leaving her up there. She's clumsy. She's six months pregnant. And Blaze will kill me.
"You're lucky Harlow likes you," she grumbles when her feet are firmly planted on the floor. "If she didn't, I'd probably have Letty poison your breakfast."
"Harlow is going to marry me."
"Only if you ask."
She has a point there.
"Wade! Stop fucking around and get in here!" Hudson shouts through the closed door to his inner office.
"Son of a…"
"Good luck," Morgan says, patting me on the arm. "Don't die."
I mutter a curse, striding that way. There's no point in knocking since he already knows I'm here, so I stroll right in. Hudson is leaning against the window behind his massive desk, his sleeves rolled up his forearms, scowling daggers at me.
His office is a lot neater since Morgan started working as his assistant. Nothing is stacked in the corners. Reports are neatly filed. There are even fresh flowers in a vase on the table.
Dillon is perched in a chair across from him, smirking.
"When the fuck were you planning on telling me that you got arrested last week?" Hudson growls.
"Dick," I mutter to Dillon.
"Don't blame me," he says through laughter. "It's not my fault your dumbass didn't tell him. I assumed he knew."
"I didn't," Hudson says.
"He didn't," I say at the same time.
Dillon just shrugs like that's not his problem. I swear to God, someone is going to shoot him in the ass one day, and I'm going to post up in his hospital room, just so I can enjoy every minute of his misery.
I turn to face Hudson, a knot of dread sitting like lead in my stomach. "You firing me?"
His brows furrow. "Why the fuck would I do that?"