Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Her lips curled up, but barely. “You got to, baby. There’s too much debt.”
The medical expenses had piled up, but I’d set up payments that I could afford—although I might have to live in a box and not eat.
“I have that all figured out.”
She closed her eyes, and her chest jerked as she fought for her next breath. The hospice nurse was in the kitchen, and I wondered if I should call for her. Panic began to rise up and tighten my throat when she opened her eyes back up and looked at me.
“He promi-i-sed me…” She paused.
I wanted to beg her to be quiet, but I didn’t know when I’d hear her voice for the last time, and I clung to the sound.
“We’d go to Mon-t-tana, but he g-gave me y-you.”
Tears filled my eyes. I already knew this story. The reason she had named me Montana. The bastard who was my father had sworn he was leaving his wife and taking Momma to his mansion in Montana. One I doubted he ever had. But she had been young and foolish then.
“Y-you were the be-best, Montana,” she said and smiled weakly at me.
“We never needed him. I never needed him. I had you, and I’ll always have you right here,” I replied, placing a hand over my heart.
My life as Loretta Carrigan’s daughter had never been normal, but I was loved.
One
Than
Prying one eye open, I stared at the ceiling. Where was I? That wasn’t my ceiling. The noise that had broken into my dream started up again, and I winced. What the fuck was that? I’d been enjoying my dream. I was pretty sure I’d almost had a threesome with Bella Thorne and Branwen Shephard. Instead of adding that episode to my fantasy reel, my head was pounding, and I was…I scanned the room…I was in the living room at Locke and Gathe Bowen’s house, lying on the sofa…naked.
A door slammed, and I groaned. Who was being so loud? Rolling over onto my side, I buried my face into the cushion since I didn’t have a pillow.
What had we done last night? I tried to remember.
“Jesus.” Linc Shephard’s voice had my eyes flying back open. “Cover your junk!” he snapped just as a throw landed on me.
I grabbed it and sat up. Linc was the head of the Mississippi branch of the Southern Mafia. But that didn’t mean he could just come barging into the Bowens’ house and wake a guy up. Okay, yeah, it did. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted.
“Get some clothes on and coffee in you. I need you at the house in an hour,” he informed me.
Fucking fantastic. I was going to have to do business with a hangover.
“It smells like cheap perfume, whiskey, and sex in here,” he said with disgust.
I stood up and wrapped the throw around my waist.
“Pretty sure that was what happened last night.” My voice was raspy from sleep.
“Get a goddamn shower. You don’t need to show up smelling like a strip club.”
He was in a pissy mood. Probably shouldn’t tell him his wife had starred in my threesome dream. It wasn’t like I could control my dreams. His wife was blazing hot and much younger than him. She was still older than me, but, hey, older women could be fun.
“What am I showing up to exactly?” I asked, then yawned and ran a hand through my hair. Why was it sticky? I held my hand and stared at it, confused.
“There are three cans of whipped cream on the floor from the front door to here,” he told me.
Oh yeah. The whipped-cream fight. I smirked as memories started to surface, then lifted my gaze back to Linc.
“I don’t want to know,” he said, unamused. “Just get that shit off you, look nice, and be prepared to meet with the governor.”
I frowned. What the fuck had Governor Baskin done this time? Could we not go a month without him doing some dumb shit we had to cover up? When was the next election? I was ready for a new one. Preferably one who wasn’t addicted to prostitutes.
Groaning, I was afraid to ask, but I did anyway. “What did he do?”
“Knocked up a stripper,” Linc replied.
This wasn’t shocking. I was surprised it had taken this long for him to make that mistake.
“What, does he want us to take her to get an abortion?” I didn’t see why I had to be woken up so fucking early for this.
“He knocked her up twenty years ago.”
Trying to figure out what the hell we were gonna do about it, I stood there, waiting for more of an explanation.
“Go get ready,” he barked, looking more irritated with me.
If he didn’t want to explain it twice and wanted to wait until we were all together, then fine. But he didn’t have to be so loud.