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)
Unfortunately, my subconscious decided to play dirty. I dreamed about the jerk last night. I'm not looking forward to seeing him today, not after the dream version of him spent the night putting that mouth to use in far more delightful ways than insulting me.
The nerve of the man!
I mean, honestly.
I hope he stubs his toe and falls face-first into cow shit. It'll serve him right.
Tanner and a cowboy who looks suspiciously similar to Walker materialize beside the truck before I even manage to lift the first box out.
"Morning," Tanner says, grinning at me. "Letty, this is Wade Jessup. Wade, this is Letty Alvarez."
"Jessup?" I shield my eyes, scrutinizing him. He could be Walker's twin, except he's a few years younger. His eyes are more hazel than coffee-colored, and there's a softness in them that's sorely lacking in Walker's. "You related to Walker?"
"Brother," he drawls.
"Are you as rude as he is?" I ask, sighing.
Tanner snorts with laughter.
"Ah, no? That's just Walker," Wade says, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Good to know. I can't deal with two of you."
He grins wider, reaching into the truck to grab a stack of boxes. "I'll help you with these. You can rant about him. I'll tell you all the embarrassing shit he's done so you have fuel next time he pisses you off. Deal?"
"I like you already, Wade Jessup."
He chuckles, dipping his head, and then strides away with my stuff.
"He'll help get you moved in," Tanner mutters.
"What time is dinner?"
"You don't have to cook tonight, Letty. Get settled in first."
"I'm already here. Might as well start," I say, shrugging. "It's not like I'm chomping at the bit to unpack or anything, Tanner. No one enjoys that."
"Fine." He shakes his head. "They usually start trickling in from the fields around seven."
"Seven," I repeat. "Got it."
"You need anything?"
"Yeah. Do they have any special meals? Special days?" A thought occurs. "Do cowboys need certain amounts of anything, like bodybuilders do?"
"Bodybuilders?" He chuckles. "Hell no. They're cowboys, Letty. They'll eat whatever you put in front of them, whenever you put it in front of them."
"Cool," I whisper, nodding. I can definitely work with that.
"I'll leave you to it. Call me if you need anything." He pauses. "Or find Walker. He'll be around."
"I'd rather die."
"Figured you'd say that, but I'm serious," he says, his tone softening. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to go to him. He went about things all wrong yesterday, but he was coming from a place of concern for your safety. We have a lot of drifters come through here during calving season. We try to weed out the worst, but the system isn't perfect."
"Fine," I sigh. "If anyone gives me any problems, I'll let him know."
"That's all I ask."
It takes Wade a lot less time to unload my truck than it took me to load it. Within half an hour, all my stuff is piled in my new living room, and I'm alone.
I plug my phone into the speakers, turn up the music, and spend half the day unpacking and putting everything away. By five, the only thing left to do is to hang up my clothes, but I'm not in any big hurry to do that. I hate doing laundry.
I leave the clothes in boxes, drop them off in the closet, then head across to the mess hall to figure out dinner. I'm nervous as hell about cooking for everyone tonight. Working in a restaurant is different. There's always help there, someone else to step in if things go wrong. Here, it's just me.
I don't want to mess up, especially right out of the gate.
I poke through the fridge and cabinets to see what I've got to work with and make a few notes on my phone about things we need to order.
I quickly decide to keep it simple tonight and make tacos. Everyone loves tacos, and it's hard to fuck them up.
There's enough meat in an industrial-size freezer to feed a small village. I grab several packages of beef and chicken and put them in water to thaw. There are also vegetables everywhere. I pick out what I need, think better of it, and grab a few more of each, arranging them on the workstation in the center of the kitchen.
By six, the meat is marinating, the vegetables are chopped, and I'm making churros for dessert. The kitchen smells like spice, cinnamon, and sugar, and I'm in my happy place.
Right up until I hear heavy steps thudding across the floor behind me.
I wheel around with a piping bag in hand to find Walker sauntering toward me.
"Smells good in here," he mutters.
"Surprised?" I arch a brow at him, instantly annoyed…both because he's hot and because he's here. Why is he here?
"Nope." He plants a hip against the fridge, watching me. "Came to check on you."