Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
He didn’t crack a smile. “You bought the Hamilton place.”
“My father did. He intended to live here part time, but he’s not able to now. I can see why he liked the property, though. It’s a nice bit of land. I’m just staying at the inn till the remodel is complete.”
“Why does a logger need a cowboy hat? I don’t get it, but I like cowboy hats.”
“Good to know. I’m not a logger or a cowboy. I’m just helping out my dad while he’s recuperating.” I pointed at my wavy mop. “I was having a bad hair day, so I threw it on at the last second.”
He flopped onto the bench at the foot of the bed. “You’re not a cowboy? Bummer. Do you have horses?”
I nodded. “One of my own, anyway. I’m an equine assisted therapist.”
“Oh! How do horses and therapy mix? Are you a PT? That’s almost as cool as being a cowboy. Not quite, but almost.” Denny flashed a beguiling, cocky smile that went straight to my dick.
Damn, he had to go.
“I do some physical therapy, yes…and developmental therapy. A horse’s gait mimics the normal movement of a human pelvis while walking. We can measure sensory stimulation and integrate movement in therapy sessions. That’s useful for pelvic injuries. And spending time with a horse is great for promoting physical and emotional growth for anyone who suffers from severe anxiety, cerebral palsy, autism, dementia, or depression.”
He considered me for a long moment. “Did my therapist call you? Or my coach? I went to my session last week and I thought it went okay, but it’s always quiet ’cause I’m quiet. I’m working on that, but it’s not easy and—”
“No.” I raised my right hand like a stop sign. “I have nothing to do with your therapist. I didn’t know you had one. And please take this the right way, but you’re not quiet at all. I’ve barely been able to get a word in.”
Denny shot a lopsided grin my way. “That never happens. Must be—”
“Tequila,” I finished. “Got it.”
“Yeah, I rarely drink, but the signs are easy to read. First I talk, then I slur, and eventually, I pash out.”
Fan-fucking-tabulous.
“We can do this another time. Can I get your number?”
“No, no.” Denny waved his arms and winked—an honest-to-God, sexy, sassy, teasing wink. “Proposition me first. Make it good, please.”
The dude was using my lines on me. Lines I would have used if he wasn’t high as a kite. And if he wasn’t a potential client.
Fuck. All right.
“We’d like to hire you as a spokesperson.”
He pointed at his chest incredulously. And yeah, I had to bite back a laugh at his comical WTF expression. “A spokespershon?”
“To put it plainly, we could use some positive publicity. We’re new in town, and when a new company takes over a century-old family-owned business, there’s bound to be a measure of mistrust. We’ve participated in a few community outreach programs and agreed to sponsor Wood Hollow’s football team, but we’re having hiring issues.”
“Uh…”
“Recruiting employees from other parts of the state is an option,” I continued, warming up to my spiel. This could be a practice run for our next meeting. “Not a great one, though. Wood Hollow is the poorest of the four towns in the Four Forest area. They need us, we need them, but there’s a lot of animosity—surly employees, graffiti. I won’t go into all that, but there’s a problem that needs fixing…fast. We need to build decades’ worth of goodwill within weeks if we’re going to meet the demands of the builder, and the best way to do that is through marketing. We want to hire a local celebrity as a spokesman of sorts, and you’d be perfect.”
“Me?”
“Yes, it wouldn’t take much of your time, and we could film at the rink or—” I stopped midsentence, narrowing my gaze. “You just turned gray. Are you going to be sick?”
“No, I’m fine. But I’m not the guy you want. Jake Milligan has been in the league longer. Ask him. Or ask Vinnie Kiminski, Riley Thoreau, Court Henderson, Smitty Paluchek. They’re all better options.”
“They’re not you. We want a rookie, and the fact that you’re originally from Colorado like us is a nice selling point.”
Denny frowned so hard his eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead. “Wait. That’s your proposition?”
“It’s actually more of an offer than a propo—”
“Worst propzishun ever. Complete fail.” He jumped to his feet. “I wanted sex and a cowboy. Not a job offer. Thanks for nothin’.”
I was stunned speechless for a moment, but I sprang into action when he moved to the door.
“Hold up.” I grabbed his elbow, unthinking. “I don’t even know you. Did you really think this was about sex?”
“Yes. Sex, sex, sex! That’s what makes propzishuns interesting,” Denny insisted indignantly.
“This is—you’re joking, right?” I sputtered.