Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
"I won't be throwing parties," I mutter, ducking under his arm to step inside. You have to know people to have parties. Since Tapias went under, most of the people I knew have scattered. The few who remained in Silver Spoon Falls aren't the partying type. They have bills to pay and families to feed.
I stop just inside the doorway, gaping again. The house is beautiful, with soft cream walls, plush carpeting, and plenty of natural light. It's also fully furnished.
"Feel free to change anything you want," Tanner rumbles behind me. "We can haul things out and move your stuff in this week."
My stuff is falling apart. The couch sags in the middle, and if you aren't careful on my bed, you spend most of the night with a spring jabbing you in the hip. The stuff in here looks too expensive to ever sag or betray you.
"I'd like to keep it," I say softly, glancing back at Tanner. "I mean, if that's okay."
"It's fine." Tanner's lips pull down into a tiny frown. "Relax. I'm not going to fire you if you chill. You're allowed to do that."
"I know." I blow out a sharp breath. "I'm just…nervous."
"Yeah, I'm getting that. It's been a while since you've had a soft place, huh?"
"Yeah, something like that." I'm not sure I ever had one…but I'm not telling him that. The Carringtons bleed blue. I doubt they understand what it's like to juggle three jobs just to keep a roof over your head or worry about whether you'll be able to pay the bills and eat. They're a lot more generous with their privilege than most, though. They're genuinely good people, just trying to make a difference.
"Well, welcome home," he says. "This is your soft place. You don't owe us anything for it beyond two meals and some sandwiches, five days a week. You don't have to put up with any bullshit to earn it. If any of these assholes give you any problems, feel free to take a cattle prod to their balls and call me. I'll put them out on their asses."
"I can handle myself," I say firmly.
He smirks at me, all mischief and amusement. "Oh, I'm well aware. I've seen you handle yourself."
My cheeks flush, but it's not like he's wrong. What woman in the restaurant business hasn't had some asshole smack her ass? He was at Tapias the last time a drunk cowboy smacked mine. I'm pretty sure the man was still wearing my handprint against his face when Tanner helped toss him out.
"Yo, Tanner!"
I jump, startled when someone shouts from right outside.
"Jesus Christ." Tanner turns toward the door. "In here, Walker!" he shouts before glancing at me again. "Walker Jessup is one of the hands here. He helps Flint, our manager, keep everyone in line. If you have any problems with anyone, you go to him."
The whole porch shakes as the man outside stomps across it before appearing in the doorway. He fills every inch of it, blocking out the light with his brawny body.
The first thing I notice is his eyes. They're this rich brown color, like coffee. They're also stern as hell. The rest of his face is just as beautiful, and just as stern. He's beautiful the way only a cowboy can be—rugged, rough, and a touch wild. His gaze runs over me like he's measuring the weight of my heart against a feather, his full upper lip curling slightly.
"Who the fuck is she?" he growls, his voice like sandpaper. He's talking to Tanner, but his eyes never leave my face. They're boring into me, determined to root out all my secrets.
I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself. I want to look away from him or say something, but I can't. I'm trapped in his gaze, completely breathless.
"Walker, this is Letty Alvarez, our new cook. Letty, this is Walker Jessup," Tanner says, introducing us.
"Hi," I whisper, my voice shaking. "Um, it's nice to meet you, Walker."
"Our new cook?" Walker growls, his eyes still locked on my face. "Oh, hell no. She isn't fucking cookin' for us."
What the hell?
"Oh," Tanner says with a chuckle, "but she is."
Walker scowls in response, and I think maybe I won't cook for him. Maybe I'll just poison him instead. It'll serve him right for being such a monumental asshole.
He just met me, and he's already being rude. Unbelievable!
Chapter Two
Walker
Letty Alvarez is the kind of beautiful that's dangerous—all lush curves, big brown eyes, soft brown skin, and the kind of sweetness a motherfucker could get lost in. Her hair is piled on top of her head, but even from six feet away, I smell her vanilla shampoo. I see the fire in her eyes, too.
She's mad as a hornet right now.
She's also got my dick so hard I can't think straight. If the men set eyes on her, every single one of the bastards will be at each other's throats, trying to tumble her into their beds.