Duke (Lucky River Ranch #4) Read Online Jessica Peterson

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Lucky River Ranch Series by Jessica Peterson
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Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
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I eye her. “You didn’t watch the rest of the show?” Because I didn’t. Didn’t feel right to watch it without Wheeler there.

“Didn’t get a chance to, no.”

Can’t help but wonder if she felt the same.

She keeps to her side of the couch, and I keep to mine. But she seems to appreciate me being here to take care of her. When she moves to get up to toss our to-go boxes, I jump to my feet and grab hers. I notice her eyes well up.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Anytime. I saw you looking at those Blizzards.” I drop the containers in the trash. “Which one do you want? Reese’s peanut butter cup or New York cheesecake?”

I may or may not have added a stop at Dairy Queen to our Door Dasher’s itinerary. Added fifty bucks to the order thanks to the delivery fee and tip, but it just felt right.

“Reese’s, please.”

Opening the freezer, I smile. “How’d I know you were gonna pick that one?”

“Because it’s the best.”

“It is. Did I overdo it with the Reese’s?”

“No such thing. But seriously, are you sure you don’t want it?”

I pop off the top and tuck one of DQ’s long, red plastic spoons into the thick ice cream. “All yours, Blue.”

She has this funny look on her face when I hand it to her, along with some napkins. “For a single dude, you’re really thoughtful.”

“One, please don’t call me dude.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d like to think I’m more than just some ‘dude’ to you. Second, when you grow up on a ranch, you’re taught to always lend a hand. Just the way our world works.”

Wheeler blinks, using the spoon to stir the ice cream. “Your parents did a good job raising y’all.”

I chuckle. “Well. Wyatt’s kind of a degenerate. He used to be anyway, before he and Sally finally got together. And Cash can be a grump.” I plop onto the couch next to her. “But I’d like to think the rest of us turned out all right.”

“They’d be so proud. Your parents.”

I feel the compliment like a bullet to the chest. “Thanks for saying that. How’s the Reese’s?”

“Excellent.” Smiling, she puts the spoon in her mouth and makes an alarmingly porny sound of pleasure. “Jesus, I didn’t know this is exactly what I needed.”

I tuck into my cheesecake Blizzard. “Gotta give credit where credit is due. Mollie was super helpful.”

“Love her.”

“Sure do.”

We watch another episode of The Righteous Gemstones. Another. I put what’s left of our Blizzards back in the freezer.

I keep waiting for Wheeler to ask me to go, but she doesn’t.

Instead, she dozes off, curled up on her side with her hair splayed over the pillow.

Right now—with a full belly and a happy woman at my side—I feel a flicker of something I never have before. Possibility maybe? It’s the opposite of FOMO, or fear of missing out.

Joy of missing out? Like, how there’s joy in staying in, eating good food with a good friend while hanging out in our stretchy pants. Is that even a thing?

I’m exactly where I want to be, with exactly the person I want to be with.

I’m still in Texas. I still have some scary shit to deal with. But I feel weirdly calm. Content even.

I don’t wanna leave. But I also ain’t about to overstay my welcome.

So I turn off the TV and clean up the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise.

Then I carefully lift Wheeler off the couch, cradling her in my arms. She burrows into my chest, her eyelashes dark against her cheeks. She’s warm and soft, and I’m gripped by a feeling I can’t quite figure out. The shit inside my torso feels tender and achy. But it’s not necessarily a bad sensation.

It’s just new. And intense.

I head upstairs, careful to keep my footfalls quiet. At the top of the landing, a door to my left opens into a good-size bedroom with a tray ceiling.

Turning my shoulders so Wheeler and I can fit through the doorway, I smile when I see the entire room is done in shades of pink. Pink wallpaper. Pink bedding. Even the bed itself is pink, as are the lamps on either side of it.

Lots of personality, just like Wheeler.

The covers on one side of the bed are already pulled back, the blankets rumpled. I gently set her down on the mattress. I tidy up the blankets and lift them so that she’s fully covered.

My stomach drops when she stirs, her eyes fluttering open.

“Hey.” Her voice is thick with sleep. “Did I pass out?”

I reach inside the nearby lampshade to turn off the light. “You did. Get some rest, Blue. Also, I clearly got your color wrong.” I glance up at the room as I round the bed to turn off the other lamp.

Chuckling, she yawns. “As long as it’s not beige, I like any color.”


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