Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
And every freakin’ one of those boats were brand new.
Not a single dingy boat in sight.
Except for one, near the dock.
A lone male figure was on the boat, hands in his jacket pocket, hood up, staring out at the fog coming off of the lake.
Well, that one and Bronc’s bass boat that he got when he was seventeen.
Ryler’s boat was far newer, had way more bells and whistles, and still couldn’t outrun Bronc’s old Skeeter.
“How does this work?” I asked them.
“Two-boat team,” Holden said as he came up to us with a packet of papers in one hand. “One boat can fish and the other one can run fish in to get weighed. Female has to stay on the fishing boat at all times, though.”
I rolled my eyes. “What if I have to pee?”
“I got your potty right here,” Bronc drawled as he held up the bucket that I used to pee in when I had to go while fishing with him.
“There are about a hundred and fifty boats out here,” I said. “There’s no way in hell that I’m peeing in a bucket.”
“You could pee on the shore,” Holden said as he patted the boat. “We’re in position twenty-four to drop the boats in. Let’s get in line.”
I hopped into Bronc’s boat and shivered. “Hey, any of y’all have a bigger jacket in the car?”
“I have my hunting bibs,” Ryler said.
“Bring them, please,” I begged. “I’m freezing already.”
“I got you coffee,” Holden said as he handed me the cup of perfectly blended goodness.
He’d even remembered the cinnamon sugar sprinkles!
“Wow!” I gasped as I took a deep inhale. “You remembered my coffee order?”
“Not exactly,” Holden said. “I went to The Grizzly and the owner knew what you wanted.”
I giggled and took a sip through the straw.
She’d even remembered that I didn’t drink coffee without a straw!
I loved her.
“You should give her a fat tip,” I said.
“I did,” he admitted. “And she sent this.” He tossed a bag into my lap.
I peeked inside and found a pumpkin muffin, still warm from the oven.
“Wow,” I said. “I think we’re going to be best friends.”
Holden muttered something under his breath and got into Ryler’s boat.
Bronc and Tibbs joined me in Bronc’s, and we got in line.
The closer we got to putting our boat in, the brighter the sun in the sky became.
Bronc had just made the turn at the boat ramp to start backing his boat in when a familiar head of dark hair caught my eye.
My heart began to pound as that dark head of hair shifted in the breeze, stray locks of what looked to be the softest hair ever went this way and that, causing me to want to bury my fingers into it.
And of course, he was on the one old, bruised and battered boat out of all of the expensive, flashy ones there.
“Hey, nice boat,” I heard Bronc call as he backed up.
The man turned, and there were his eyes, intense and soul-stealing, directed only on me.
“Thanks,” he said to me, even though I wasn’t the one to say it. “My good friend owns it.”
The good friend lifted his hand, and my breath caught.
Two very sexy men, both of them with their eyes directed on me now.
“It’s nice,” Bronc said. “I’ll bet it outruns everyone here.”
The man, Shasha, shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“Totally gonna run us out of the water,” Tibbs murmured. “Look at the motor.”
I did and saw that the boat had two two-hundred horsepower motors on the back.
Jesus Christ.
Bronc stopped and the boat Tibbs and I were sitting in started to drift backward.
Tibbs started the boat up and we drifted backward, closer and closer to the man that was seriously starting to become the star in my waking and sleeping fantasies.
“Good morning,” he said as I drifted closer to him.
His arm came out and caught the side of our boat when it started drifting too close to his.
He gently pushed us away, his long, strong fingers dominating my vision.
I’d seen him in a perfectly fitted suit.
I’d thought about how buttoned up and precise he looked, like he was a studious businessman without a single ounce of wild in him.
But today, with him wearing a pair of jeans, boots, and a very well-fitted Henley in a different color than the one I’d seen him in last time, sleeves pushed up to his forearms revealing those muscles and tattoos…
Rawr.
Also, it didn’t surprise me to find him here with all the rich bitches of Dallas proper.
The man was loaded. You could tell that just by watching how he handled himself.
Plus, the man was wearing a Patek Phillipe.
That was a very expensive watch.
I knew that because Rupert had watched those stupid watch videos on YouTube, drooling and dreaming of a day when he’d be able to afford one of his own.
“Dude, are you not freezing right now?” the friend with him asked.