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 inhaled sharply at his if. I stiffened my spine. I couldn’t match his bulk, but I could look him in the eye. “Is this a way to make sure I don’t leave? You don’t trust yourself to be a good enough reason, don’t trust me to not run back to LA, but you’re willing to trust that the responsibility of a horse might keep me around? A bribe?”
“It’s not a bribe.” Pursing his lips, he visibly bristled. “They have horses in the city too. Fancy-pants boarding facilities. He’s yours whether you stay or go.”
“Gee. Thanks. Would you help me research stables?” I used my most sarcastic tone. “Come on. Seriously. You can gift me a horse, but you can’t bring yourself to admit you’d like me to stay?”
“Of course I’d like you to stay,” he shot back, eyes going wide like the admission had surprised him as well. “But the horse is yours because you deserve a good horse.”
“I deserve you.” I used my months of hanging around him to do a perfect imitation of his sternest voice.
“What you deserve is someone a helluva lot better than a grumpy, broken-down foreman,” he countered, matching my firm tone, expression resigned like he’d already made up his mind.
I made a frustrated noise loud enough to startle the horse next to me. “So the horse isn’t an apology?”
“I screwed up.” Grayson locked his gaze on his upturned palms as if he might find the right words there. “Not up to me to decide whether ranch life is for you. You have to make that call. I saw the horse listing and thought of you. Simple as that. Not trying to get back in your pants. Just trying to say you’re a damn fine cowboy, and I misjudged you.”
Well, those were a lot of words, some of them pretty, all of them maddening. So close. He’d come this far. Why not go for broke?
“You could.” I made my voice light. Maybe flirty would work where sternness hadn’t.
“Could what?” He sounded as confused as I’d been a few moments earlier.
“Try to get in my pants.” I trailed a fingertip down the front of his shirt. “It might work.”
“Not sure that would be the best thing for you.”
“How about the best thing for you?” I raised my finger to his chin, forced him to meet my eyes and see how damn serious I actually was. “Quit underselling yourself, Gray. You’re what I want, need, and deserve.”
He snorted. “Ha. You deserve what Maverick and Colt have. Romance. I don’t got a romantic bone anywhere in my body.”
“Bullshit. You just bought me a whole-ass horse.” I might be too frustrated at his insistence that the horse wasn’t to win me back to swoon at his feet, but that didn’t mean I didn’t appreciate the gesture.
“Wasn’t tryin’ to be romantic.”
“Well, congrats. You were anyway.” I cupped his chin, not letting up. I was so close to getting everything I wanted. No way was I giving up now. “You said it’s not up to you to decide whether I’m cut out for ranch life. That applies here too. Quit deciding for both of us that you’re not good enough or not what I need. What I need is for you to cowboy up and try. That’s all. Show up and try to make this thing with me work.”
“You make it sound easy.” He met my gaze, but his eyes were cloudy and pained, not the expression of a man about to agree with me.
“It is.” I dropped my hand and stepped back. “When you realize that, you know where to find me.”
“Wait. You’re not gonna name the horse?”
“Oh, I’m keeping him.” I had too much of a head of steam to manage much of a smile. “I need to cool off before I go and name him Stubborn after you. I want you, not the horse.”
“Gray?” Kat called from somewhere in the next row of stalls.
“Go on.” I waved a hand. “Wouldn’t want to be caught together.”
“Adler.” He said my name like a plea, but I was already walking away. I’d meant what I said. I wanted Gray, and I was holding out for nothing less than the future we both deserved.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Grayson
I finally reached my breaking point Sunday afternoon, right in time for Maverick’s birthday party. I could have avoided the whole shindig, seeing as how I’d never felt less sociable. I thought I’d done the right thing by gifting Adler the horse, but he wanted me, not a horse. And he called me the stubborn one. Everywhere I looked, I saw reminders of him.
We could be so good.
We were. We worked well together. We’d taken care of the dogs, survived Winnie’s foaling, performed hundreds of chores, quietly hung out, and loudly fucked. Adler’s memory was everywhere, from my front steps to my bed, and the four walls of my trailer were about to suffocate me.