Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“We’re gonna have a bonfire tonight.” Sully reaches over and flicks my leg. “You gonna hang out, or sit in the bunkhouse and sulk?”
“Probably sit in the bunkhouse and sulk,” I answer honestly. There’s no point pretending I’m something I’m not.
“I don’t remember you being this boring.”
“I’m not boring,” I argue.
“You just said you’d rather sulk than have a bonfire,” Pixie points out. She and Sully both snicker again. I’m not liking these two-on-one odds.
“No one asked you,” I grumble at her, just as I hear Sully’s momma yelling that dinner is done.
He turns to me. “You wanna go in and eat with us?”
I tense up. He used to always try to get me to eat with them when we were kids too. I tried my hardest to refuse, but sometimes they’d ask my momma, who would make me go. She said they were kind and we had to show them we appreciated it. I didn’t know how to sit in their house, at their table, and eat their food. “Nah, Big Jimmy cooked.”
“If there’s anything left by now,” Pixie says, and I swear, she’s like an adult in a kid’s body.
“If not, I’ll figure it out.” I don’t know how to handle all these people trying to take care of me. Makes my head spin and my skin feel too tight.
“Come on, kiddo. You can eat with us tonight,” Sully tells her, clearly knowing I’m not gonna change my mind. I’m surprised he gave up that easily, but now we’re just boss and employee, so I guess he realizes that’s a line he shouldn’t cross.
“Hope to see you tonight.” Sully tips his hat, the two of them walking away.
I wait until I can’t see them anymore before I stand. Storm is watching me, and if I’d been paying attention to him instead of Sully, I probably would have seen him watching them too. The frustrating man always gets inside my head.
I take a few steps closer to Storm, who immediately starts huffing at me.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me. I don’t like people much more than you do. We’ve got that in common, the two of us.” He settles down some but keeps his eyes on me. I’m aware of him the whole time. I don’t think he would hurt me, but you never know. “You probably think I’m just like that…trying to socialize you, the way they try to socialize me. I can’t believe Sully thinks I’d go have dinner with him and his family.”
I keep my voice soft and conversational, like Storm and I are a couple of buddies having a chat, as I take a few more steps closer.
“I guess it’s not really fair that I want them to leave me alone, when I don’t do the same for you, but I think you’ll like it here if you give it a chance. Take it from someone like me who doesn’t have a home—not really. This isn’t a bad gig for you.”
I’m close enough now that I can reach out and touch him. Storm blows out a couple of breaths, the hot air hitting me, and I wait.
“Yeah, I know. It’s hard not being angry at the world. I’m not one to talk.” Slowly, I raise my hand and rest it on Storm’s neck, then give him some rubs. He lets me, and damn, it makes my blood sing, makes me feel like sunshine is coming out of my pores or something.
We still haven’t been able to get a saddle on him. Before that, I need to get him halter broken, but for tonight, for now, this is enough.
I spend a good twenty minutes out there just petting and loving on Storm until he starts to get anxious and it’s clear he’s had enough of me.
I make sure the gate is closed tight when I leave and head straight for the bunkhouse. The crew is still there, but the pans are all empty. Pixie’s daddy is here, even though they don’t live on the ranch, and I figure it’s because of the bonfire Sully told me about.
“I saved you a plate.” Wade points to the microwave.
“Thank you.” I tug it out without warming it up. I’ve eaten a whole lot worse things than cold food in my life. All the guys are sitting around the table, playing cards, so I take my plate over to my bed and start shoveling spoonsful of meatloaf and mashed potatoes into my mouth.
“You want in on the next game?” Bulldog calls over to me, but I shake my head. His forehead wrinkles in disappointment, and I get why. The guys on a ranch are like family—or hell, at least like friends. They sure as shit don’t keep to themselves the way I tend to. “You gonna at least come hang out tonight?”