Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
A couple of months ago, an eighteen-year-old girl had come in for a riding lesson and almost had a panic attack on top of Maisie when she’d reared a little quickly. She was fine, and wasn’t in danger, but I had no idea what to do. I’d comforted the girl, told her to get off, and given her water and fruit. But I knew Dad would have been able to give her more confidence again to hop back on a horse, and I wasn’t able to provide that.
Those types of things happened in riding schools, all the time. It wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of Minton Ranch.
But I just missed him.
It was as simple as that.
And I hated being alone here on a big ranch. I threw parties, I kept myself completely busy, and I volunteered for any and every activity I could—but at the end of the day, it was just me here.
I took out my phone and shot off messages to my top three group chats, telling them to come on over tonight for a get-together.
It would probably turn into a party.
And I was okay with that.
Distraction time, much needed.
Before then, I could get a little bit of outdoor work done.
A breeze blew through the stables as I headed out, latching the gate behind me. I went back down the path toward the house, heading into my backyard.
For the rest of today, I needed anything that would keep me from thinking about the article.
I grabbed a shovel and got started on clearing rocks from the area where the hot tub would go. I was already sneezing a little, because the backyard always gave me some allergies at this time of year, but I loved it out here anyway.
I’d tried to make myself feel better earlier by texting Jesse, getting lost in desire as I played through last night’s kiss over and over again.
And truthfully, texting him this morning had been hot as fuck.
But I couldn’t help but think it was just another thing I was searching for in the wrong places. I knew I was going to get burned, because that’s what happened every time I played with fire. Craving was stronger than logic, though. I didn’t know if I’d see him again, and I liked that I was able to push his buttons again, even if it was all just through words.
Texting was just innocent fun, right?
I slipped out my phone to look over his texts one more time, I saw that I had a new one.
One from just three minutes ago.
“Oh, fuck,” I said as I saw it.
>>Jesse: This is from last night, by the way. Your fault.
Attached was a picture of his stomach—fucking perfect abs, with tanned skin, and a V-shape where his muscles led down to his groin just out of frame.
Streaked all across his lower stomach were ribbons of white.
6
JESSE
The roads near Mason’s ranch looked different under full blue skies. The leaves were in peak summer green, lush and full of life.
Don’t get me wrong—I’m a winter bunny all the way because I’m at my best during hockey season. But even I couldn’t deny the beauty of the first weeks of summer. Especially in Bestens, where the ridges of the mountains in the distance formed a dramatic backdrop as I drove.
Tennessee wasn’t perfect, but I always found myself falling back in love with it anyway. Funny how that worked.
I pulled down the long driveway past the Minton Ranch sign. In the daylight the property was even better—holy fucking trees, Batman. Birds flitted from branch to branch and I even caught a pair of bunnies hopping their way along the sloping hills leading up to his house.
You live like a king, and party like a prince, I thought, glancing up at his home.
I pulled up to the big house, spotting Mason’s big pickup parked at the other end of the curved driveway.
I grabbed the bag of food and got out. My shoes crunched on the gravel drive and the cicadas were in full swing again, and I could also hear the repetitive sound of a metal shovel hitting dirt somewhere nearby. The curved lawn out front was freshly cut and impossibly green, and the air smelled like it.
I rang the front doorbell on the porch, waited a minute, then rang it again. When I realized nobody was inside I turned and followed the long, curved stone path that led to the side of the house, under a canopy of trees.
The yard overlooked the stables on one side, and the far-off mountain ridges on the other. Various dirt riding paths cut through more tall oaks. The yard itself was landscaped with shrubs, pink and yellow flowers, and an herb garden, which I wondered if Mason ever used.
I spotted what was making the shoveling sound after rounding the corner of the house.