Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
She spins around, raises her eyebrows, and winks at me before skipping back to the bed, looking extremely proud. Despite myself, I can’t help but chuckle, and I’m just about done shaking my head at her when the door to the room opens and in comes a voice.
“If you’re serious about killin’ us, can I ask to go last? I wanna see how you take this big guy down. My money’s on you talkin’ him off a cliff.”
It’s Axton, and by “big guy,” he means the pretty cowboy whose name we still don’t know. They both walk in at the same time. Or rather, the nameless cowboy walks in first, looking slightly aggravated while Axton is right behind him, clapping his hand on his shoulder and chuckling.
While Axton makes himself comfortable in one of the armchairs in front of the bed, the big guy shoots Axton a look before making a beeline for the farthest corner where he settles against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. For some reason I think that’s what he always does, looks for corners and nooks and crannies that he can use to disappear. But I don’t think he’s the kind of man who can go unnoticed. Especially by Peyton, who’s glaring at him from beside me.
The thud of the door shutting brings me out of my useless thoughts, alerting me that he’s here. The air in the room changes, thickens and becomes heavy. Probably with his scent of musk and leather.
I watch his long strides, taking him across the room where he finds a wall to stand against too. But not like the big guy. He doesn’t hide or want to disappear. He wants to command the room, be the center of attention without being in the center. He wants eyes to follow him wherever he goes as he shifts it, the gravity.
At least he shifted mine, because now I don’t know how to keep sitting here with him in front of me without collapsing on myself. I don’t know how to look away from him even when he hasn’t spared me a single glance. His eyes are on his target, the object he’s going to use for his revenge. My best friend.
“I hear I’m your wife,” Peyton goes, leaning back and propping herself on her arms.
I tighten my muscles in anticipation of his answer. I even look away and wring my hands in my lap, waiting for him to say the words that I know are going to feel like a blow, no matter how crazy or unwarranted it is.
But it never comes because he replies, “No, you’re not.”
And I jerk my eyes up to him. Even though he’s still not looking at me, I can’t help but wonder if he read my thoughts. If he somehow knew how insanely I was hanging on to his answer.
“If this is your way of proposing,” Peyton drawls. “Then I don’t even want to see the ring.”
“Good,” he clips, shifting on his feet and folding his arms across his chest. “Because there ain’t one.”
Sitting up straight, Peyton narrows her eyes at him. “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that?”
His features remain blank as he murmurs, “That’s the general consensus, yes.”
She looks at him for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and asking, “So? Why do you want to marry me? What the hell is going on?”
“Because I want your land.”
Peyton watches him with narrowed eyes. “My land?”
“Yeah.”
“How does marrying me get you the land?”
“Because half of it belongs to you now,” he says, his eyes dark and alert. “According to the Turner will, it automatically became yours when you turned eighteen. But the power of attorney is still your brother. Meaning, you can’t make any major decisions about the land without his signature.”
“What? That’s bullshit.”
He shifts on his feet. “Well, until you get married. Then, the power of attorney gets transferred to your husband.”
Beside me, Peyton’s spine snaps straight. “What kind of sexist crap is that? Do they think I can’t take care of their stupid land? Why, because I’m a girl?”
“Yeah, well, you’re gonna have to take that up with your father.” His chest moves up and down with a large breath. “The point is, the man you’re married to controls half your family’s land. In this case, me.”
“So, what, you just want me to roll over and hand you my share of the land?”
“Well, it already belongs to me so you’re a little late with your protests. And I don’t just want your share of the land; I want all of your land.”
Peyton scoffs. “Right? Because my family is just going to give it to you.”
“If they know what’s good for them, they will.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means”—he shifts on his feet again—“your family business is goin’ under. Your daddy ran it to the ground and your brother’s been tryin’ to revive it. But even he knows, he can’t. You’re drownin’ in debt and if something doesn’t happen soon, you’re all going down.”