Page 12
While the thought of making her mad was tempting, Mason knew it went deeper than that. To be completely set for the rest of his life in a turn-key situation was far more tempting than he wanted to admit.
But no.
He wasn’t going to fall prey to such an offer. If this was the path he was meant to be on, he would have been born to a family who made sure it would happen.
His destiny was to remain with his brothers on their family’s ranch for the rest of his life. Of that, he was certain.
“It’s eight, seven, eight, five.”
Mason jumped, realizing they were parked right outside the gate. He didn’t know how long he’d been mulling over the options he had in front of him, nor did he know if Harley had said anything else besides the code. “Thanks,” he muttered as he rolled down the window and typed the code into the keypad.
The gate swung inward, and once again, he was driving along the paved pathway toward the house. When he stopped in front of the house, he didn’t move.
She turned to face him. “Well? Are you going to walk me in?”
Irritation pulsed through his veins like venom. He glowered at her, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I don’t know what you think this was, but it wasn’t a date. And since you’re not under the age of seven, you’re clearly capable of making it from this truck to the front door.”
She huffed without saying a word, then slipped out of the truck and headed for the porch. The second she pushed the front door open a crack, he drove off.
Good riddance.
6
Harley
Harley slammed the door shut behind her. What was it about this backwards place? She thought people around here were supposed to have manners. But all she’d seen so far were hard-headed cowboys who refused to give in to her.
That hadn’t happened before.
She blamed her parents. Ever since they’d sent her out to this terrible town, she’d been off her game. There used to be a time when she could manipulate anyone into doing anything for her.
Harley kicked off her sodden boots and stormed farther into the house. The smell of supper wafted toward her, and she realized just how hungry she was. Had she even eaten lunch? The day had gotten away from her and all she had to show for it were some half-completed chores and a growling stomach.
Thankfully, her uncle wasn’t completely useless. Despite not having a wife to dote on him, he’d managed to find his way around his kitchen. That was a pleasant surprise.
She entered the kitchen and lifted her nose appreciatively. The smell of roast and potatoes filled the air, taking her back to a time when she used to enjoy family dinners with her folks. It had been nearly a decade since that time. The moment she’d hit her teens, she’d been labeled as rebellious and supper time had turned into a chore.
Uncle Vern stood at the counter, his back to her as he worked on their dinner. There wasn’t a chance that he hadn’t heard her enter the house. The way she’d slammed that door practically shook free all the pictures hanging on the walls.
Harley hovered there in the doorway, unsure of what she should do. Between her growling stomach and her growing fury, she was torn. It wasn’t fair that she was expected to work, and it was embarrassing that her uncle thought she needed someone to keep an eye on her.
She crossed her arms, letting the fury take hold. “Who do you think you are?” she demanded.
Vern stilled, but he didn’t turn to face her.
Stomping into the kitchen didn’t hold nearly the same amount of satisfaction without her boots. In fact, her wet clothes only made the movement more pitiful. Still, she stood her ground. “I’m talking to you.”
“I’m aware.”
“Well? Are you going to look at me?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Aren’t you the one who insists on respect?”
The air immediately got several degrees colder. She shivered, wishing she had chosen to change before entering the kitchen. Slowly, her uncle turned to face her. “I’m sorry? Did I miss the moment you officially earned my respect?”
Her mouth hung open. “But… you said…”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12 (Reading here)
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- Page 17
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