Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
When Maverick still remains silent and blushing, I crouch down in front of him with a soft smile, the same way I do with all of my shiest students. Well, the same way I did with them, back when I was still an employed teacher. “I’m thinking you’d really enjoy riding a pony named Tornado. She loves taking first-timers. If you feed her some baby carrots before climbing aboard, she’ll fall madly in love with you and make sure you have a wonderful first ride.”
Maverick wiggles his little body with excitement and looks up at his towering father again. “Can I, Daddy?”
“It’s up to Iris. Muster the courage to look at her and say, ‘Yes, please. I’d love that. Thank you, Iris,’ and see what happens next.”
Maverick takes a deep breath and turns his dark, Roman-esque gaze on me. “Yes, Irish. Tank you, pwease.”
We all melt and chuckle at his cuteness—and thankfully, nobody corrects his precious pronunciation of my name.
“Good job,” I say. I put my hand up for a high five, and he gives it to me. “Let’s go find Tornado and get her saddled up.”
I suddenly realize Harper isn’t standing with the group. Apparently, my best friend drifted away at some point without me realizing it. Probably, knowing her, to give me some privacy with our unexpected guests. That would make perfect sense, actually, given how many times Harper’s had to listen to me babbling about Roman and my aching heart since my arrival in Orchard Blossom almost two months ago.
After leading the group around a corner, I easily find my best friend talking to one of the ranch hands. “Hey, baby,” I chirp. “Is Tornado in the north pasture? I’ve got a first-time cowboy who’d love to feed her some baby carrots and ride her like the wind.”
Harper giggles at my sarcasm. Our beloved Tornado has only one gear: walking very, very slowly. And everyone at this ranch knows it.
“Yep,” Harper confirms brightly. “North pasture. But I’ll grab her for you, while you show everyone around.” To Maverick, Harper adds, “There’s a bunch of horses in stalls over there who’d love to snack on carrots, if you’re willing to feed them.”
As Maverick whoops with excitement, I flash Harper a grateful smile. She’s playing Cupid, obviously—allowing me to spend as much time as possible with Roman and his family. Otherwise, she’d surely let me run hither and yon, looking for that damned pony myself.
“Thanks, Harper. We’ll meet you over at the stable.”
I turn to make sure Roman and his parents are following Maverick and me, and when my eyes lock with Roman’s a few feet away, my body jolts like I’ve gripped an electric fence. He’s on fire as he stares at me. Indeed, his gaze is so intense and sexual, so damned heated, it instantly sends a throbbing ache between my legs.
I force my attention back to the sweet little boy clutching my hand. “When Harper brings Tornado to the stable, you can help me saddle her up, if you’d like.”
Maverick makes a gargled sound of glee that bears no resemblance to the English language, and everyone who loves him—which I’m pretty sure already includes me—laughs uproariously at his exuberance.
“Is that a ‘Yes, please, Iris’?” Roman asks from behind me, eliciting a chuckle from his parents and a swoon from me.
“Yes, please, Irish.”
My chest constricts. My heart throbs. God help me, just this fast, I think I’m already in danger of falling in love with Maverick Maguire, every bit as much as I’m stupidly in danger of falling madly in love with his gorgeous, look-alike, football god of a father.
Chapter 29
Iris
“Ride ’em, cowboy!” Roman calls out to his son.
I glance at Maverick’s proud daddy standing next to me and swoon at the joy on his gorgeous face. In Hawaii, I was treated to a wide range of different smiles from Roman—but not once did I witness one quite as stunning as the smile of fatherly love splitting Roman’s face now.
“Go, Mavvy, go!” Roman’s mother shouts, sounding every bit as proud as her son.
Roman, his parents, and I are standing outside the circular, steel rails of a corral while watching Harper slowly leading Maverick on Tornado around and around. Roman is standing immediately next to me, leaning his forearms against the top row of metal piping, while his parents stand a few feet away on Roman’s other side, snapping photos, cheering, and taking endless videos.
“You look like Woody!” Roman’s father yells from behind his camera, at which point Roman’s mother effortlessly drops one of Woody’s famous lines from Toy Story, the one about there being a snake in his boot. Little Maverick responds with giggles and whoops. Tornado’s a small, slow-moving creature—a perfect first ride for any young child—but you’d never know her name was ironic based on Maverick’s enthralled reaction to riding her. Clearly, this kid feels like a cowboy expertly riding a bucking Shire stallion.