Page 30 of Cash
And a couple of times, I catch myself wondering how farup her legs that little dress of hers rode up when she sat. If I looked under the table, what would I see?
Christ, I need to get laid. Been too long, clearly, if I’m fantasizing about City Girl’s legs.
But the fact that they’re flawless means she’s not used to manual labor. Or being outside, for that matter. My brothers and I, we’re beat up and bow-legged from spending most of our time on horseback.
I smirk as the idea takes shape.
Tossing my napkin onto the table beside my empty plate, I clap my hands against my thighs. “Welp, Miss Luck, since you’re here to see your ranch, let’s get to it. Sawyer, tack up an extra horse.”
I bite back a laugh at the flicker of panic in Mollie’s eyes.
“A horse? For me?”
“Cash,” Wyatt says. “Just take the ATV. It’s too hot?—”
I hold up a hand. “ATV can’t get where we’re goin’.”
“I don’t ride,” Mollie says. “Or I haven’t ridden in…a really long time.”
“You best pick it back up if you wanna run this ranch.”
She stares at me, nostrils flaring. Thatfire. Fuck me if it don’t make my skin feel two sizes too tight?—
I shove the thought aside. Gotta keep my eyes on the prize: chasing this brat off our property before she takes a shine to it. Because that’s always what happens when visitors come to Lucky Ranch.
It’s what Garrett admitted happened to him as a kid following his daddy around the property.
“What about taking my car?” she asks. “It’s got four-wheel drive?—”
“Too big.” I shake my head. “Ask anyone in here. You wanna get the lay of the land, you gotta do it on horseback.”
Mollie glances at Goody, who grimaces.
“He’s not wrong. But the tour can wait perhaps? There’s some paperwork we should go over?—”
“Don’t have time. We either go now or we don’t go at all.” I get up and start grabbing plates, stacking them on my forearm.
I’m shocked when Mollie pops up and starts doing the same, piling her plate with silverware and water glasses. “That was delicious, Patsy. Thank you.”
“You sure you got enough to eat?” Patsy asks.
I step around Mollie and head for the sink. “There’s no food court on the ranch, Miss Luck. You get hungry, you’ll be SOL.”
“Oh? So no Auntie Anne’s Pretzels, then?” She cocks her head, spearing me with a glare. “Never would have guessed. I’ll be fine.”
Duke chuckles. “You’re a feisty one, ain’t you, Miss Luck?”
“I prefer the termspirited.”
“Self-possessed,” Goody adds.
I turn on the faucet. “You know what we do with spirited horses here on the ranch?”
Mollie lets her plate fall with a clatter beside the sink. Leaning her hip into the counter, she crosses her arms. “I’m not a horse.”
“We break them.”
She gives me a tight smile. She’s close enough that I can smell her perfume over the clean-water scent of Ivory dish soap. “And you know what happens to people who are out of a job? They go broke.”