Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“I can’t stand the thought of him taking over the other two properties, either. Maybe we should go over to the Jenkinses and talk to them. Makes no sense that they caved. In fact, I think it’s suspicious as hell.”
“Like maybe they were forced to sell somehow?” Cole asked, speaking up for the first time.
“That’s what I’m thinking.” JB felt himself getting wound up again, anger causing a tight band across his chest. “I don’t trust that Dillinger, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all if he leaned on the Jenkinses somehow.”
“We don’t know what they’re dealing with.” Belinda used her soothing voice. “Maybe they want to retire, too. Maybe their kids don’t love the place as much as you love this one. Ranching is a hard life, and it ain’t for everyone. We have no way of knowing what’s going on in their lives that would make them sell.”
“And frankly, it’s none of our business,” Jesse said. He pointed a finger at JB. “You leave this alone. We mind our own business here.”
But JB couldn’t let it go. Something was off. He knew it in his gut. “Let’s go have lunch, Cole.” He turned on his heel to stride out of the barn.
Cole quietly followed him.
Chapter Seven
Cole quickly washed up from the sweaty ride across the Alexander ranch, already feeling the pull in his muscles, and returned to the main area, where he found JB in the kitchen. The cowboy had showered before Cole had used the single bathroom, and he was wearing a plain black T-shirt and what looked to be a clean pair of jeans. He was barefoot, and his longish blond hair was still wet.
JB leaned over and grabbed a package out of the fridge that looked like it might be lunch meat, then slammed the door behind him. He turned and pulled down a couple of paper plates, which were slapped on the counter. The man was clearly fuming. Everything hit the counter with a loud smack or a thunk. He didn’t say a word but didn’t need to. Muscles tensed in his jaw from where he clenched his teeth. His shoulders were stiff.
When JB grabbed a knife, Cole stepped forward and plucked it from his fingers.
“Hey! What are you—”
“Out!” Cole ordered in a voice loud enough to make JB stop and blink at him in surprise.
“But…” JB started again, but Cole was already placing a hand on his shoulder and directing him toward the breakfast bar, where he could sit while Cole worked.
“Sit. I can make sandwiches for both of us. The way you’re going, you’ll cut off a finger, which means I’ll have to run you to the hospital rather than get my sandwich.”
JB snorted and grudgingly flopped into one of the chairs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nice of you to take me to the hospital before eating.”
“Well, if you’re going to bleed all over everything, there’s not going to be much for me to eat, is there?”
“Asshole,” JB muttered under his breath, but Cole ignored him as he pulled out some bread and started opening the various packages of meat. JB had a nice selection of roast beef, turkey, pastrami, and salami as well as some cheeses. This had the makings of a great sandwich.
“Why don’t you tell me what you want on your sandwich? Then you can tell me why the offer for the ranch has you so upset.”
“A slice of each meat, the dark mustard, and a couple of slices of the baby swiss,” JB directed.
“Wheat or rye?”
“Wheat.”
Cole nodded and started slapping together the sandwich. JB pushed to his feet and poured them both glasses of iced water. Cole placed the finished sandwich in front of JB, and the man chuckled.
“You cut the crusts off?” JB inquired.
Cole smirked over his shoulder as he reached for the wheat bread. “You look like you’re having a bad day. I thought you would appreciate having your crusts cut off.”
JB’s smile widened. “Does this crust-cutting service also include bedtime tuck-ins and a glass of milk?”
“Only if you tell me what JB stands for.”
“Nope.”
“Then I guess you’re shit out of luck.”
Cole finished making his roast beef sandwich and took a seat next to JB rather than moving to the little dining room. The man took a bite out of his sandwich and moaned softly.
“Okay. You have a new job while you’re here.” JB’s words were slightly muffled around a mouthful of sandwich. “You make all sandwiches. This is amazing!”
“It’s a lunch meat sandwich,” Cole muttered before taking a bite of his own.
“Yeah, but you got the right amount of mustard and the cheese is alternated nicely between the meats. Sooo good.”
Cole smiled to himself, glad he could at least partially lift JB’s black mood. But then, it was becoming clear that JB was just an upbeat, happy guy. He didn’t seem the type to stay angry long or brood over things.