Wright Together – Wright Vineyard Read Online K.A. Linde

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
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“That has nothing to do with you, Eve. You’re doing your best by her.”

“It never feels like enough. And I just…hate him for making everything more difficult.” Tears came to my eyes, and I swiped them away. Frustration written into every inch of my face.

“You know what? No.”

“No?” I asked with a sniffle.

“No. We’re not ending today like this. He doesn’t get to win.”

“He already did.”

“No,” I repeated. “Let’s do something else. Something you loved to do when you were here.”

“Nothing. I wanted to leave.”

He grasped my hands. “There had to be something.”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Something to erase this.”

“I could just do you,” I teased.

He tilted his head down to look at me. “Eve.”

“Fine,” I said, an idea blooming in my mind. “Are you sure?”

“Anything.”

“Just remember you said so.”

He just laughed and kissed me.

23

Eve

“This wasn’t what I had in mind,” Whitt said with regret in his voice.

“You said anything.”

An enormous arched sign with the name Rivers Ranch in all capital letters announced our destination. Whitt sighed heavily as he turned off the two-lane back road and onto the private property. His tires crunched over the gravel before he pulled into the only available spot in front of a horse fence. I hadn’t considered that it was Labor Day weekend and they’d be busy. Hopefully, they’d have two horses free for us.

“Horses?” he asked skeptically.

“Yeah. The ranch has been around forever. I went to school with the girl who used to run it with her dad.” I hopped out of the car, taking in the smell of grass and manure. “I don’t know if she’s still here. I heard her dad died a few years ago. Not sure who is running it now, to be honest.”

“Well, great,” Whitt said as he stepped out of the car.

The wind blew through the dark strands of his hair. I was glad that I’d told him to wear something casual for Boose. I’d never seen him in jeans before today, and it was a good thing he was in them if we were going to ride.

“So, have you ever been on a horse?”

He shot me a look. “No.”

“Oh, this should be fun,” I said with a laugh. I linked our arms together. “Come on. I’ll go easy on you.”

“Why do I doubt that?”

“Because you know me.”

His eyes were heated when he said, “I’m trying.”

My cheeks turned rosy at the assessment. The scary thing was that Whitt did know me. He’d known how to handle my dad. He’d known how to banter with my sister. He’d seen when I needed an escape from what I’d gone through. He didn’t push for answers I wasn’t ready to give, and, God, he’d been so patient with me. While I found myself falling and falling and falling.

The front door creaked open to a one-story ranch with a white wraparound porch. A woman stepped out in bootcut jeans and a white tank top. She was sun-kissed with honey-blonde hair, shot through with natural highlights. Her lips were the shape of a bow about to be plucked and eyes so light blue that you could have drowned in a puddle. A dash of freckles layered across her nose and cheeks. She waved a hand, callous from use.

“Hey, y’all. Can I help you?”

“Arden Rivers,” I said with a shake of my head. “What are you doing here?”

Her eyes widened in recognition. “Eve, is that you?” She hopped down the last remaining steps, a wide smile coming to her lips. “That is you!”

We embraced tightly.

I hadn’t seen her in eight years. She’d married her high school sweetheart and moved away. She was one of the few girls who hadn’t been threatened by me. We hadn’t had a lot of classes together, but I used to come ride horses with Gram a lot. Well, I’d ride horses with Arden while Gram gossiped with Arden’s mom.

“I didn’t know you were back in town,” I told her.

“It’s a recent thing.” She sucked air in through her teeth and then added, “Divorce.”

My jaw dropped. “Really?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, it’s new.” Then, she changed the topic of conversation. “And you? Are you back in Midland? I thought you were in Lubbock.”

“I am. Just here on business.” I gestured to Whitt. “This is my…” I glanced up at him and back at Arden. “Well, my date, Whitton Wright.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said, taking her hand.

Arden smiled up at him. “Nice to meet you.”

“He’s never been on a horse. Please tell me you have something that won’t break him.”

“Well, we’re all booked up,” she said regretfully. “But hell, why not? You can ride Bunny.”

“Bunny?” Whitt asked.

I was laughing the entire way around back and into Arden’s private stables. Whitt’s face at the name was delightful.

Arden had a handful of horses that were used by friends and family. Some of them were because they weren’t fit for the public. Either personal favorites, rodeo horses—ropers and barrel racers—or because, like Bunny, they were now past their prime but too beloved to do anything but let them live out their lives in the pasture.


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