Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
She’s halfway down the corridor before I catch up. Even angry, she walks like she owns the damn place. I want to push her up against the wall and kiss the stubborn right off her mouth, but I rein it in and match her stride.
“Hold up,” I murmur, catching her hand. Her skin is soft and electric in mine. “Why’re you running, sweetheart?”
She snatches her hand back fast, eyes blazing like I just challenged her to a duel. Hell. Now I know I’m in love.
“I’m not running. I’m going tell my horse goodbye.” She swallows and looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “I didn’t realize how much it would hurt,” she whispers. Fuck. Her tears cause pain to slice through my chest, and I know I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy.
“Have lunch with me and we can discuss it.” I’m so goddamn pussy-whipped already, I’ll leave the goddamn horse here if that’s what it takes to make her happy.
She takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. “If I can choose the restaurant.”
“Choose away,” I say, and mean it.
She lifts her chin, all stubborn, like she’s bracing for battle. “I need to handle a few things first. Meet me at The Feedlot in two hours.” Her eyes dare me to argue.
I blink, confused as hell. “The Feedlot?” Am I getting pranked right now?
She actually laughs, this throaty sound that goes straight to my cock. “It’s the steakhouse in Copper Ridge. Next town over. If you’re not scared of a little drive, I’ll see you there.”
I want to insist on driving her there, but I can see that would be a mistake with my independent girl. “I’ll be there,” I growl, barely keeping the hunger out of my tone. I’d drive to fucking Alaska to spend more time with her.
She flashes a wicked smile that makes my knees go weak, then turns on her heel and heads down the hallway with my eyes following her every move.
Yeah. I’m totally, completely fucked. And I’ve never looked forward to lunch this much in my entire goddamn life.
CHAPTER FIVE
REINE
I walk into The Feedlot with my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. This place is definitely above my pay grade. It's all dark mahogany paneling and crystal chandeliers that cast honeyed light across white tablecloths. The air smells like seared ribeye and old money. Even the hostess—with her sleek blonde bob and crimson lipstick that doesn't dare smudge—looks like she's mentally calculating my net worth and finding me lacking as I wobble across the polished floor in my four-year-old heels that pinch my toes and make my ankles feel like they might snap with each step.
I do my best to keep it together as I scan the room, praying all the while that my nerves aren’t written all over me. Not that anyone seems to notice. My palms are slick with sweat, and my heart pounds so hard I half-expect someone across the room to hear it.
The place is mostly empty at this hour, shadows tucked in the corners, and only a low hum of conversation, but my gaze lands on Cole right away. I’m not shocked to find he’s already here, settled in at a table near the back, all long limbs and lazy arrogance, like he owns the whole damn place.
As he looks up, our eyes meet, and he gives me a killer smile. Holy. Shit. That smile should be illegal. My knees wobble. I nearly combust on the spot when his eyes drag slowly down my body.
His smile is slow and molten. “Wow, Montana. You are so goddamn gorgeous.”
My face goes up in flames. Gorgeous? I feel like an awkward giraffe who wandered into a five-star restaurant by accident. My dress is so simple compared to the other women I passed on my way in, but the way he looks at me? Like I’m the only thing he wants to eat for dinner. My pussy clenches just thinking about what he’d do to me if we weren’t in public.
“Uh. Thanks.” I don’t mean to stammer, but my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth. “You clean up pretty well yourself.” Understatement of the century. All that corded muscle and sun-streaked hair, packed into a black button-up that hugs his broad shoulders and stretches across his chest with each breath. The sleeves strain around his biceps, and there's something dangerous in the way he leans forward, knuckles resting on the table, like he's two seconds from dragging me onto his lap and having dessert right here in front of everyone. Looks like he knew exactly what he was doing when he changed from the navy suit before meeting me for lunch.
Cole stands as I approach. The way he moves is pure sex and swagger, all heat and focus zeroed in on me. My breath stutters when he helps me slide into the booth, brushing his hand along my back. The heat of his palm flashes through the thin material of my dress, sending goosebumps skittering down my spine. My girly parts sing the song of their people as I sit back against the cool leather.