Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 104448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Mistake number one.
Then, I’d arrived at the pre-arranged rental car and noticed there was no car seat. I’d lucked out, and a pleasant staffer at the tiny airstrip had offered to run into town to get one for me from a neighbor of hers. Once she’d arrived back and installed it for me, I’d gone straight to the nearest place that sold car seats so I could return the loaner.
Mistake number two.
Not only was the car seat twice as expensive as it would have been back in Dallas at Walmart, but the only place for miles around that sold them was the Mercantile, located right in the heart of some kind of street festival in Majestic. An overly chatty cashier inadvertently helped me out by indicating my target would most likely be found in said street festival.
I’d asked for directions to Fletcher Ranch since I knew from experience GPS could be spotty in rural locations. The cashier had shot me a big grin and expounded at length on the way to get there, ending in, “’Cept I’m sure they’re all here for Final Night. Try at the Love Muffin table. Jo Blake’ll know where to point you.”
I’d thanked her and headed back out to the rental to throw the car seat inside and change poor Lellie’s diaper for the tenth time since arriving in Wyoming.
Mistake number three. Well, I probably should have called that one number two.
“Gurl,” I muttered, trying to keep her from rolling off the tailgate of the SUV. “You only had puffs in the past several hours. Take out the veggie dust, and all that’s left is air. How is this the third dirty diaper since we landed? Explain yourself.”
Renata, Lellie’s nanny, had packed me with plenty of supplies, acting like Wyoming didn’t have such modern conveniences as diapers and wipes, pediatric meds, clean outfits, or age-appropriate toys. At that moment, I would have much preferred she help me remember the car seat.
By the time I got us both cleaned up and found a garbage can to dispose of the waste, I let out a breath and decided to find us both a cold bottle of water before hopping back in the car. In the meantime, I’d search for the table the cashier had recommended and ask around for anyone who might know where to find Devon.
The crowd was too much, and live music was blaring from a makeshift stage halfway down the block. Lellie alternated between screaming and tucking her face in my neck to whimper. I rubbed her back and tried to soothe her. When I finally found the Love Muffin table, we were both covered in splashes of water from where she’d flung her arm out when I’d offered her the bottle.
“Do you know where I could find Devon McKay?” I asked.
The older woman behind the table eyed me up and down. “Who’s asking?”
“An old friend here visiting from Texas. The lady at the Mercantile said you might save me a trip out to the ranch by pointing me in his direction.”
An attractive young man in a black cowboy hat sidled up and shot me a grin. “You looking for Dev? Just missed him. He just headed over that way. Standing next to the sheriff. Tall fucker, erm… ’scuse me. I meant… tall guy, the sheriff. See him?” He pointed in a direction where I definitely saw a tall man in a sheriff’s uniform shirt and well-fitting jeans.
Smiling at Devon McKay like he’d just discovered a diamond mine.
I let out a grunt.
The man next to me nodded. “Wouldn’t mind bein’ the PB&J in that man sandwich, if you want to know the truth. Ain’t neither of them bad-looking with their shirts off.”
The woman behind the table whipped a tea towel at him. “Taza Daggett, put your tongue back in your mouth and fish in a pond that’s more your own vintage. You hear me? Those men are old enough to be your uncles.”
“Wouldn’t mind either one of them being my Daddy,” he murmured, shooting me a wink. I schooled my face and returned his flirt with a scowl. If he thought he could clock me as gay, he could think again.
I was the king of straight-passing when I was in a mood, and I was for damned sure in a mood tonight. My nerves were shot, I was hot in the remnants of this morning’s work suit, and I was about to have to tell the man who had a starring role in my nocturnal fantasies that he was the lucky recipient of a lifetime’s worth of work and worry.
“Wish me luck,” I muttered to Lellie. She burst into tears and pressed her face back into my neck as I strode in the direction of the man I hadn’t seen in over two years. The man whose silhouette was just as familiar to me now as the night I’d traced it with my tongue and hands.