Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“I can’t stay long.” The sound of Grayson’s zipper echoed through the area, and it took all my restraint not to sneak a peek. “I was working on some downed fence line and decided to take a break and cool off.” Splash. Grayson must have entered the pond because his voice sounded closer. “And for what it’s worth, I’ve known Maverick was gay for years. Never made a bit of difference to me.”
“Good.” I nodded sharply as I turned back around to face him. Everything interesting was obscured by the water, yet the man continued to leave me breathless. “Maverick said you grew up here on the ranch?”
“Nah. I was seventeen, almost eighteen, when my old man got the job.” Grayson shrugged like seventeen was fully grown when I knew firsthand how woefully unprepared for adulthood I’d been at that age and how many stupid decisions I’d made. Grayson, though, managed to make himself sound downright ancient. “Had my diploma already, so I got hired on as a hand.”
“And you stayed all these years,” I marveled with the awe of someone who’d never stayed in one place more than eighteen months since leaving home at eighteen—a string of hospitality jobs and teeny apartments all over Southern California.
“Mostly.” Another of Grayson’s noncommittal shrugs. “Thought I might rodeo. Thought wrong.”
I’d watched him enough over this week to notice his slight limp. Even with that lingering war wound, the idea of Grayson strutting around a rodeo arena was even hotter than this scorcher of a day.
“Bet you were something on a bull.”
“Bronc busting, both saddle and bareback,” Grayson corrected my very limited knowledge of what actually happened at a rodeo besides hot and sweaty guys getting bucked off dangerous beasts. “That and some roping events.”
“Oh, you tie things up?” I didn’t bother trying to hide my flirty tone. The image of Grayson with a length of rope was too delicious to pass up.
“Out of practice,” Grayson mumbled, which told me absolutely nothing worth knowing. “I’m twenty years removed from rodeo life.”
“You make yourself sound older than those rocks.” I very deliberately sent a ripple of water his way. Not a splash precisely, but an opening salvo into my planned attack.
“Older than you,” he snorted. “What are you? All of twenty-four?”
“Thirty-two,” I muttered, skin heating. I sent another ripple of water to escape my discomfort. “I just look younger.”
“Old enough to know better than to go starting a water war,” Grayson warned, clearly having caught on to what I was up to. No reason for me to be subtle any longer, so I splashed him in earnest. Grayson didn’t bother splashing me back. Instead, he ducked under the water to swim away.
“Fine, be that—” I didn’t get to finish my retort as he pulled me under for a vicious dunk that left me sputtering. I splashed angrily in what I hoped was his direction as I blinked the pond water out of my eyes. “No fair.”
“You started it,” he said smugly, treading water in front of me, deliciously close to giving me a glimpse of his goods. Driven by an impulse I didn’t fully understand, I reached under the water and snagged his foot, dunking him right back. I had brothers. I knew how to give as good as I got, but this wasn’t that. Something about Grayson made me want to rail against him, push in a way I didn’t with others. I was known for being nice, a people pleaser to the core, everyone’s favorite friend, and a respected concierge who could sweet-talk his way into any tickets or reservations a guest desired. But Grayson made me snappy, almost bratty, a side I hadn’t been aware of having two minutes prior.
That was about as much thinking as I got before Grayson grabbed me around the waist to dunk me again, but this time, I resisted, flailing elbows and knees and twisting in his grip until we were face-to-face, chest-to-chest, and I was painfully, intimately aware of our nakedness.
“Knock it off,” he said sternly, still holding me tightly. He’d wrangled me as easily as if I were one of those baby cows escaped from the pasture. And never had I wanted to be caught quite so badly.
“Or else what?” I taunted, amazed at how good it felt to rile this man up. “Who’s going to make me?”
Chapter Two
Grayson
Adler Kelly was a brat. A surprise given his affable nature all week. In fact, I’d found his relentless cheerfulness combined with his utter cluelessness about ranch life vaguely annoying. I wasn’t sure exactly why the guy got on my nerves, but he did. And annoying wasn’t quite the right word either. He’d gotten under my skin in a way few people managed. He lingered in my brain after each brief encounter, causing a restless twitchiness I didn’t know what to make of.