Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“If you like, I can put one of these on a plate and bring it over to you at the table with some coffee. I've not seen Maverick or Jesse yet.”
“Someone say my name?” Maverick swaggers in, near enough naked, in only his tight boxers. His hair is ruffled, and his face is creased on one side. He grins and swipes his hands through his hair, winking at me as he checks out Taylor's bare legs. His next move involves him swiping for a hot pastry, which he drops back just as quickly.
“Damn, these are hot!” As he heads to the refrigerator, Taylor swivels her gaze to take in his lean back and shoulders, rippling with corded muscles. He's in damn good shape. It's just as well I'm not the jealous type with my wife getting her fix so blatantly like that over one of my housemates.
“I was going to get the juice, but it's such a warm morning that I didn't want it to spoil. Do you want some coffee, too? Clint's having some.”
“For Christ's sake, Maverick. Put some clothes on? You'll put me off my damn breakfast!”
Jesse is preened and ready, standing in the doorway assessing the scene. I'm not sure I've ever seen him anything less than well-turned-out. Even wrestling an escaped stallion, he manages to keep every hair in place.
“Coffee and a pastry, Taylor, please. And I think we'll need lunch packed today as we're heading out for the day to see to those damn fences. I've got Eric coming to test the electricity, so we have a better idea of what needs to be done.”
I seize my opportunity. “Maybe Taylor should come with us today. She could ride Taffy, or else she could ride with one of us.”
Jesse's clear ocean eyes search my expression, suspicious at first, then he nods. “Good idea. I was going to suggest the same thing. You could ride together on Taffy.” Probably because he's still worried Taylor's going to escape while his back is turned. Jesus, the guy needs to drop the suspicion or else he'll give himself a heart attack. He heads over to the table, and he and Maverick sit at opposite ends.
“And what about the bunkhouse? Aren't the new workers coming at the weekend? I thought Taylor could get that all set up, too? I can give her a hand.”
“That could work. Mitch said that he'll fetch them on Sunday so that gives us a few days to get things sorted.”
Taylor approaches with a serving plate filled with more pastries, some steaming oatmeal, and some chopped apple to go with it all. Healthy options as well.
“I'm gonna lend you my favorite Stetson for today, Taylor. It's reserved for special occasions. Or, in this case, special people.”
Taylor nods and smiles, and Jesse eyes Maverick like he just offered the girl a ride on his dick.
In half an hour, we're out and saddling up Taffy, our palomino gelding. He’s as sweet as candy and perfect for a beginner to enjoy. He’s the son of Jesse's stallion, Bristol, and the two get on well. I love riding him and often do it for his company.
Taylor has packed up a basket of cooked chicken, cold potato salad, and a stash of pastries. Juice, water, and a flask of hot coffee will keep everyone fed and hydrated for most of today.
We ride behind Jesse and Maverick and trot along at a comfortable pace. Taylor is stiff with concentration.
“You can ease up there. He's a good horse. You can trust him. Try to sit easy, if that makes sense. You're already a natural.” She doesn't seem totally convinced but drops her shoulders, raises her chin, and tries to center herself.
“Is that better?” She relaxes, more at one with the horse. And me. With my legs wrapped around her hips and her butt rubbing against my dick, it's hard to concentrate. I'm holding the reins, but I've got her holding them, too. It's a good way to get her used to riding, and next time, she can try riding Taffy alone.
“Yeah. You've got it.”
“He's a good boy, aren't you, Taffy?” she croons.
“He is.”
When we seem to have settled into a rhythm and she’s taking in the scenery on our route to the outer pastures, I force myself to ask her some questions, whispering directly into her ear. The scent of her new shampoo is sweet and makes me want to nuzzle into her hair the way I did last night.
“Are the recipes you use family secrets?”
“Some. I had a job in a bakery in the town where I live. Lived. I learned a lot there, but I've been interested in food for a long time.” She adjusts her hat to keep the sun at bay. It's just at the wrong angle as we head East and away from the pastures closest to the ranch.