Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27790 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27790 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
We continue the tour, entering the barn, and it’s not what I imagined. It’s pristine with a wide center aisle and four large stalls on each side. In the back is a variety of saddles and things I’m sure are used to groom the horses. I spot Oreo right away in the mix of horses peeking their heads over the wooden doors.
Sydney gives each of the four majestic animals a pat and tells me they used to have more horses but her dad is too busy running Reilly Records.
“Why is it called Reilly Records and not Lancaster Records?”
She nuzzles Oreo. “It’s my mother’s maiden name. My father started the business right before she died, and they came up with that.”
I smile. “I love it.” I move closer to Oreo and watch as she runs her hand along his long nose. His large black eyes inspect me. “What about you? Do you want to run Reilly Records?” I know I have no right to ask these questions, but I can’t stop wanting to learn everything about this woman. I want it all.
And that’s vastly different from how I normally am.
“We should head back,” she clips out, and right then, I realize I screwed up and the tour is over.
Chapter 7
Sydney
* * *
Do I really have the desire to run Reilly Records? I wish I knew the answer to that question. A huge part of me wants to be in the saddle, writing songs for the rest of my life, living a good life here in Texas. Another piece of me wonders if the main stage is a place I’d like to visit from time to time. But I see the way singers and pop stars get exploited in the worst of ways and it’s a bit like selling your soul to the devil.
To be honest, what I want right now is for Tobias to kiss me again. While giving him a tour of the ranch, all I can think about is having his hands all over me.
I avoid his question, because I can barely think of a way to express it that would make sense. Instead, I say, “My father decided my future a long time ago.”
Before we get back to the main house, Tobias stops me. “I think you can have any future you want. Your father just wants you to be happy. I’m sure he’d be ok with you bowing out of running Reilly Records.”
I glance up at him as the tangerine sun dips low in the sky, casting a halo around his head. Although, I’m aware he’s no angel. “How can you be so sure?”
“I think it’s pretty obvious.”
“Maybe you’re right.” I lead him back into the house and the aroma of dinner catches our noses and we both breathe in deep.
“That smells delicious,” he says.
“Gran is an amazing cook.”
“I can’t wait to eat.”
I lead Tobias into the dining room and my father’s already sitting at the head of the table with Granny to his right. Tobias takes the chair to his left. It’s a smaller table, so I sit at the other head and it’s all very cozy as I look at the food waiting for us. My father reaches out his hands to say grace before we eat, and I stare at Tobias when he mirrors his action, reaching out a hand to me.
I place my tiny hand in his much bigger one and avert my attention from him by bowing my head.
My father says a simple prayer and finishes with thanks that Tobias could be here as well.
Am I thankful he’s here?
Yeah, I am, and not just for physical reasons. There’s no hiding the fact that I want his lips and hands all over me, but I also find myself enjoying his company when I’m digging for information about whether he’s up to something nefarious.
“Opal, I haven’t had a home cooked meal like this in… well, never,” Tobias says, placing the linen napkin in his lap. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
His gracious statement makes my chest clench. I’ve been a horrible hostess in my attempts to keep him at a distance. Now, I want to whip him up something delicious every night. But damn, he’s a better cook than me.
Grandma preens under his praise and stands to scoop him an extra-large helping of pot pie. “You need a wife,” she says. “You’re a handsome fella. Why aren’t you married?”
Tobias nearly chokes on his sip of water. He sets the glass on the table. “Good question.”
My father intervenes. “I’m sure Tobias just hasn’t found the right woman yet, Mom.”
“I’m betting she’s here in Texas,” Gran says.
Tobias lifts a brow, glancing in my direction. “You may be right about that, Opal.”
I blush and go through the motions during dinner, listening to their chatter about everything from horses to Tobias complimenting my grandmother about her flaky crust, trying my best to keep my attention on chicken pot pie and off my dirty thoughts about Tobias.