Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
“You’ve lost weight since I last saw you, and I’m not having it. Sit your ass down, and eat some good food,” I demand.
“It’s been hard to eat lately,” she murmurs.
I nod because if anyone gets how much stress can fuck with your digestion, it’s me. Lost thirty pounds after my first tour overseas. “Just eat a little bit.”
While she nibbles at the casserole, I sit down on the stool next to her and flick through the website on her laptop. “You built this?”
“It was hard, but I figured it out. Some of the fundraising platforms charge insane fees. I wanted every dollar possible to go back to Aunt Elaine.”
I feel a rush of pride at her accomplishment. I’m not going to agree to this insane idea, but I can tell she put an incredible amount of thought and effort into it. “How does the site work?”
“Well, you see that little box beside Flint’s picture, you can type an amount of money you’re willing to bid to win his cuddles,” she explains. “I set the auction up, so the winner gets to spend a weekend with her prize. Friday through Monday morning. Does this mean you’re going to agree?” She pushes more casserole around the plate, looking up at me through lowered lashes.
“Nope.”
Menace whines as if he’s pleading on behalf of his new friend, the little traitor.
“Is there anything I can say to convince you?”
“Nope.”
“OK.” She nods and takes her cellphone. “Then let me cancel the interview with the reporter.”
“What interview?”
“Well, the auction caught the eye of a reporter from The State Daily. I need to let him know that the event has been canceled.” Her chin wobbles.
Anyone else and I would think I was being manipulated. Not Lauren though. I’ve never once seen her try to manipulate someone. She’s as good and honest as they come. Just like her brother.
I fight the urge to reach for her, to take her hand in mine the way I did last night. But it’s not good for me to touch her like that. It fills a cowboy’s head with all sorts of longings that he shouldn’t have. “Tell me why this matters so much to you.”
She swallows, and I watch her throat bob. See the way she fights to regain her composure. “He left when I was eight. Do you know what he told me then? He said he’d always come back to the community center. He said it was home.”
We had the memorial service. She hosted it. In fact, she was the one who insisted on it. She was determined it would give all of us closure, a sense of peace about what had happened. But despite all of her talk, here she is, caught somewhere between hope and heartbreak. Same as me.
I swear, a habit I do far too often when she’s around. “OK, you got yourself a deal. You can auction any man on Valor Ranch that’s willing.”
She looks up at me then, her eyes still filled with tears. “Does that mean you’re mine?”
Chapter 6
Lauren
Does that mean you’re mine? The question keeps bouncing around inside my head. I shouldn’t have asked him that. I shouldn’t have liked it when he nodded and gruffly stood from the stool and stomped across the kitchen and started cleaning the sink.
Now, I’m standing on the front porch of Bronco’s place and watching the reporter’s car pull up the long driveway. Reed Samson.
I spent this morning researching him. By researching him, I mean I looked over his employment profile online and read the last six months of articles he’s published. He’s a good reporter with a keen eye for detail, but it’s also pretty obvious that he doesn’t enjoy stories that he doesn’t find hard-hitting. He can be a bit harsh with those. Agreeing to this interview may have been a horrible idea.
As if he’s reading my mind, Bronco says quietly, “Don’t worry.”
He’s sitting on a rocking chair on his front porch. He’s whittling wood and looking as relaxed as if it’s just another day here, as if the whole future doesn’t hinge on this single interview.
What if I say something stupid? What if I botch it by doing something embarrassing?
“You’ll be fine,” Bronco says as if he’s reading my thoughts. He always seems to have that ability. If it were anyone else, I would find it annoying, but from him it’s just oddly comforting.
Reed gets out of his car. I notice instantly that it doesn’t fit in with the other vehicles around here. For one, it’s too shiny and new, too clean. The vehicles on the ranch are all covered in a fine layer of pollen and mud, driven by men who aren’t afraid to get dirty and stay dirty.
Reed joins us on the front porch in just a few quick strides. Like Bronco, he has a full, thick, bushy beard. He’s even wearing cowboy boots and blue jeans. But there are too many giveaways that he’s not a true country boy.