Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
I hobble around, looking at all the other photos. Some are funny, others are sweet. There are a lot of Cord and Cleary, and several of their brother in a military uniform. Their brother has scars in more recent photographs but not the older ones. He must have been injured while serving. The older Cleary grows in the photos, the deeper Cord's scowl gets. The patient affection in his eyes never wavers or diminishes though. He looks at his brother the same way.
I begin to put the pieces together in my mind as I look through the photos. Their parents died when Cleary was still a little girl. I think their brother was probably overseas, so Cord raised her. And then their brother was hurt too. That had to be so hard for him.
Seeing his life laid out like this, knowing he's the kind of man who would drop everything to raise his little sister is humbling. My own father fled from the responsibility of raising me. But Cord stepped up for his sister even in his own grief. He held his family together when everything else was falling apart. The last of my suspicions about him just…evaporate like water in the sun.
He's a good man. A bossy, grumpy, good man.
After I look through the photos in the living room, I start peeking in rooms down the hallway. Aside from the bathroom, there's a home office that gives me major anxiety. The rest of the house is spotless, but the office is a disaster. Cord has paper stacked and scattered everywhere. How he makes sense of it all, I don't know.
I don't even step foot into the room next door. Expensive gym equipment fills the space, looking like modern-day equivalents of the medieval torture devices they were likely designed after. I shudder in horror and quickly close the door. Across from that is a game room with a pool table in the center of the room.
The laundry room is at the end of the hallway. I move my clothes from the washer to the dryer, excited over the prospect of having dry panties to wear. As nice as Cord's clothes are, and as much as I like that he likes me in them, I'd prefer not to soak through his sweats and embarrass myself.
"Crap," I groan when I see my wallet sitting on top of the dryer. He probably looked inside to confirm my identity. He knows for sure I'm not a cattle thief or liberator. There's no going back now. I'm not even sure I want to go back anyway. Cord is…not at all like I thought. He's infuriating and bossy and he drives me insane, yes. But there's so much more to him. It's a little terrifying.
I think I'd feel better about the whole thing if he did spend all his time in the basement playing video games and knitting socks for kittens. At least then we'd be on a level playing field. But no. He's hot, successful, caring…all those things I've spent my whole life running from.
I can't run now, can I?
Even if I tried, I have a feeling he'd chase me down faster than his maniacal bull. There's a reason he started emailing me. There's a reason I'm here now. It's time to put my big girl panties on and figure out what that means. For once in my life, I can't let the fear of turning out like my mother rule me. I've got to stay and face this cowboy.
Please don't let me regret it, I pray. Please don't let him break my heart.
I barely even know him, and yet I think if anyone has the power to do it…it just might be him.
Chapter Six
CORD
"Don't you dare touch my pie, Cord Decker!" Cassia shouts, pointing a wooden spoon at me like it's a bayonet. "It's not ready yet."
"It looks ready to me," I grumble, glaring between her and the peach pie currently taunting me from the kitchen table. The damn thing looks better than ready. After the day I had, it looks damn near as good as she does, and she's sweet enough to tempt a saint straight into hell. Let's be honest though. One thing I've never been mistaken for is a saint.
I've been trying all day to convince myself to take it slow so she doesn't bolt, but I'm an impatient motherfucker. I decided weeks ago that she was going to be mine. I realized today that she knows it too. She wouldn't be here if she didn't. Not in Tahoe, not on my ranch, and not in my kitchen, pointing that wooden spoon at me.
By the time I got Hamburger squared away, one of the young bulls decided he wanted to try his luck today. He went hell for leather across the pasture and broke a leg. Unlike horses, cattle heal well from broken legs, especially the younger ones. With a little time, a little TLC, and a little sweat on our parts, he should be fine. But it took all day to get him settled. We didn't finish until well after dark.