Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
By the time I’m back in Hartsville, the sweetest little town I think I’ve ever seen, the sun has started to set. My stomach grumbles.
Beck’s restaurant is around the corner. I’ve visited several times over the past couple weeks, bellying up to the bar for their delicious cocktails and even better food. Ducking my head to get a better look through my windshield, I survey the storefronts as I drive past, each one more charming than the next.
On my left, there’s a coffee shop with a pink awning that reads The Caffeinated Cowgirl. On my right, I see a bank, and beside that, a faded green-and-black awning is stamped with the image of a rattlesnake. Neon beer signs light up its windows. That has to the bar Doc Sally mentioned earlier. I wonder if Colton hangs out there.
Is he fun?
Better question: Does he never allow himself to cut loose because he’s trying to be the best, most responsible dad ever?
The idea makes my chest hurt.
I smile when I see the Homestead Hen. It’s tucked inside a cozy-looking brick building with big windows that glow in the fading twilight. There’s a deep front porch set with tables and heaters, and I can just hear the faint strains of a familiar country song playing. Old-school Trisha Yearwood? Say less.
I park my car in front of a lawyer’s office on one end of the street and stroll along the sidewalk, taking my time to peer through the windows of the buildings I pass.
The people I see smile at me, and I find myself smiling back. Back home, I’d think the kindness of these strangers was a little creepy. But here, it feels genuine. Nice. Part of the buzzy warmth that fills the woodsmoke-scented air.
I’m surprised when the first person I see when I walk inside the Homestead Hen is none other than Beck Wallace. It’s calving season on the ranch—I learned all about the beef life cycle from him when he took me out to see the herd the other day—and since he handles cattle along with horses too, he’s been super busy tending to all their newborn cows. I’d assumed he’d be too busy to be at the restaurant.
I’ve never seen him behind the bar.
“Well, hey there, cowgirl!” He rounds the brass countertop to wrap me in a hug. “Doin’ all right, I hope? I’m coverin’ for Hannah tonight.” He nods at the bar.
My pulse spasms. Did Beck find out what happened between me and his brother at the barn? I imagine word travels fast on the ranch.
Then again, Colton doesn’t seem the type to kiss and tell. Even if he is close with his siblings.
“I’m doing well, thanks. Feeling grateful I get to spend so much time on y’all’s amazing property.”
His hug is tender and tight, the kind you get from close friends, and once again I wonder at the warmth of this place. These people.
Ordinarily, I’d question this guy’s motives. No one can be this friendly, this open, surely?
But I’m too tired to keep up my defenses tonight. Too…giddy. And Beck has been nothing but kind to me.
“Happy to hear it,” he says. “The ranch is a special place. But please tell me my older brother is finally startin’ to play nice?”
Ah, so Beck must not know. Good. Although I wonder what he’d say if he did.
“Colt is fine,” I say. “Mostly.”
“We’ll take it, right?”
“Right.”
Beck releases me, then tilts his head toward the handsome bar. “How about something to take the edge off? It’s on the house.”
“You don’t need—”
“You know how this works, Lainey Brown. You so much as reach for your wallet, I’ll never forgive you.” His face splits into a smile. “You gotta know your money’s no good here. C’mon.” He pulls out a cushy barstool. “Colton may suck at hospitality, but I’m kind of the best at it, so…”
I grin. A girl could get used to this kind of treatment. “So…”
“What’s your poison?”
Mutual masturbation in barns.
“I’ll have a whiskey sour, thanks.” I climb onto the stool and he pushes me in. “This place really is beautiful, Beck. You should be so, so proud.”
He grins as he rolls up his sleeves and gets to work making my drink. “Thank you. Nice having a little something that’s just mine, you know? Not like I’m the only one involved here at the restaurant or anything.” He scoops ice into a brass cocktail shaker. “But I needed something separate from the ranch. Especially after calving season wraps up.”
“I imagine this is a great little escape for you.” I glance around the restaurant, noting its sexy, cozy decor. Like a French bistro and a Texas grandmother’s kitchen had an especially stylish love child.
He goes to town shaking up my cocktail, the sound making me almost giddy. I’m tired. And yeah, it’s really nice having someone like Beck to talk to. Share a drink with.