Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“That was her befriending him because he likes molasses,” Scottie countered. “I told you to be nice to him a long time ago and he might listen a little better.”
“Well.” I hesitated when we got to the steps that would lead up into the event. “That’s just your opinion.”
“Sure it is.” Searcy leaned her head against my shoulder. “Are we going to stand here all night or go in?”
I took a deep breath, then went to face one of my worst nightmares.
“You’re a paramedic?” an older man that looked to be around eighty-five asked. “And you’re a rancher?”
As if he couldn’t believe that one person could be both things…
My brows rose. “Why do you say it like that?”
“Just seems slightly improbable.” He shrugged. “Those two careers don’t necessarily go together.”
“They don’t, no,” I said, not bothering to explain.
I’d gotten my paramedic license a long time ago, thinking that would be the career path that I took out of life. Then my dad died, and I realized that career path wasn’t the way I wanted to go anymore.
Now I was a rancher, and the only reason I kept the guise of working as a paramedic up was because I wanted to keep my license fresh, just in case.
Life was unpredictable. There was no reason to completely leave a career path behind if I didn’t have to.
Plus, it was exciting and fun and kept my foot in the door in case I ever wanted to leave ranching behind again.
Which, the way I felt lately, might be something I wanted to do.
The ranch was just too much.
Though, I had a feeling I’d keep it going at least until Scottie was out of school and could make the decision with me.
A lot could change in four years.
You had to be prepared for everything.
“Um, Posy?” Scottie touched my arm. “You need to come with me.”
I frowned and looked at her face to see her freaking the fuck out.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I let her pull me away.
“That man over there,” she pointed. “He’s getting all up in Searcy’s face.”
Taryn Durant.
Fuck.
“Thanks,” I muttered as I hurried toward them.
Scottie was right on my heels as we came to a stop next to Searcy.
“If you don’t step the fuck back, right now, I’ll make you,” I said softly, trying not to cause a scene.
Taryn’s eyes came to me, and he narrowed them. “Well, well, well. Isn’t it fucking perfect. The trailer trash meets the orphan.”
I gritted my teeth. “I still have a mother.”
“A mother that hates you,” he countered.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re really original. I don’t know what your issue is with her, but you need to back off. I don’t like it when she’s bothered.”
Searcy offered me a wink, letting me know that she liked when I protected her, and said, “It’s been fun, Taryn, but I have to go.”
She pulled away from him and moved to me, her hand coming out to me.
I took it, pulling her into my side, and whispered, “I’m glad you got his winning lottery ticket.”
She snickered and fell into step beside me, but came to a sudden halt when she saw a house displayed on the screen.
I checked it out and said, “What’s that?”
“A beach house in Florida,” she said. “Exit 13A.”
“Is there a significance to that exit?” I asked.
“I heard someone talking about it,” she said. “The owner of the house died, and the family decided to donate it to this auction. Something about the Y helping them when they needed it the most. They’re auctioning the place off because they don’t need it. They live on the East Coast and barely make it down this direction. The two siblings selling it were talking to the director about how much money they could’ve gotten if they rented it during the summer months and I was floored.”
“Buy it,” I suggested.
She looked at me startled. “What?”
“Buy it,” I repeated. “Get a passive income. Real estate isn’t ever a bad thing.”
She bit her lip, and I nudged her. “We have to leave soon, or I’ll be late for my shift. But seriously. Go put a bid in on it. If you win it, you win it. If you don’t, it wasn’t meant to be.”
When she still looked torn, I offered, “I’ll go put the bid in.”
She started walking with me, her eyes wide.
“How much do you want to put?” I asked. “Starting bid is five hundred thousand.”
She swallowed hard and said, “That. Exactly that.”
So that’s what I did.
I wrote the bid down, but made sure to put Searcy’s name and phone number since I wouldn’t be able to take any calls tonight while on shift.
After putting in the bid, I said, “Let’s go.”
“And we have a starting bid of five hundred thousand,” the man over the intercom said, but the rest of his words were drowned out by us exiting the building.