polishing I can do in a week. I’d consider hiring more people, but that increases the odds that somebody will figure out who I am. Nash has agreed to keep quiet, and I know you will, so I feel fairly secure at this point.”
“Then I recommend that you have Nash do the bare minimum outside and concentrate his efforts in here.”
“Okay, I will.” Bethany busied herself getting out mugs, sugar and cream while she fought the urge to giggle.
She’d already decided that Nash should concentrate his efforts inside the house. The activity she’d had in mind had nothing to do with renovation, though. Morgan would be expecting miracles, and if Bethany and Nash hoped to renovate this house while also having wild monkey sex every night, it would take several miracles.
8
N ASH SPENT A GOOD PART of the day teaching two of the
Last Chance Youth Program boys the correct way to muck out a stall. Eddie was a
blond and pudgy thirteen-year-old who was eager to please. The other kid, a
skinny, tattooed fourteen-year-old who insisted on being called Ace, had major
attitude. But Ace was careful not to cross the line into open insolence, as if
he knew how much swagger he could get away with before being sent home.
Dealing with the two contrasting personalities on the same work
detail was a challenge, but Nash discovered he liked it. Both boys obviously
yearned for a male role model, and when Nash caught them picking up his
mannerisms, he smiled to himself. Imitation was the sincerest form of
flattery.
Lindsay hadn’t been able to have kids, and had convinced him
that was just as well. He’d bought into her rationalizations, especially after
he’d begun to worry whether the marriage would last. Now that he looked back on
it, he understood that he’d been worried about that from the get-go, but he’d
been slow to admit defeat.
Now he was thirty-five, past the age when a lot of guys had
kids, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still consider it if he found the right
woman. Once he had his own place he could start thinking along those lines. For
now, he had these eight boys to practice on.
He’d gotten an unexpected kick out of that. He’d relished the
mental challenge of trying to outthink his two charges today. They could be
incredibly funny, and they’d obviously loved making him crack up. They could
also be achingly vulnerable and oblivious to the fact that they’d exposed their
innermost secrets.
He looked forward to describing the day’s activities to Bethany
because he knew she’d be interested. That wasn’t his main interest in going back
over there, of course. He ached to make love to her again, and kept checking the
time once the day’s activities wound down.
Surprisingly, he wasn’t as eager to hear Morgan’s estimate on
the Triple G’s value as he’d expected to be. If he ended up buying the ranch,
taking possession of it would coincide with Bethany leaving. Intellectually he
understood that, but emotionally he was a long way from accepting it.
He’d get to that point eventually. But not tonight. As he drove
over to the Triple G in the golden light of a brilliant sunset, a couple of his
own condoms tucked in his jeans pocket, he had to consciously ease up on the gas
pedal because his natural urge was to floor it. The washboard road slowed him
down some, but he took that too fast anyway and his truck rattled in
protest.
The previous night, he’d chosen his clothes so they’d be nice
enough to eat dinner in and old enough to make repairs in. Tonight he’d opted
for a worn pair of jeans, serviceable boots and a Western shirt with the sleeves
rolled back. If she was true to her word, it would all come off. The thought of
that caused the crotch of his jeans to pinch.
Although he halfway expected she might come out on the porch
when she heard his truck, he hadn’t anticipated that she’d be standing in the
middle of the yard waiting as he hit the brakes and turned off the engine. She
wore navy running
“Then I recommend that you have Nash do the bare minimum outside and concentrate his efforts in here.”
“Okay, I will.” Bethany busied herself getting out mugs, sugar and cream while she fought the urge to giggle.
She’d already decided that Nash should concentrate his efforts inside the house. The activity she’d had in mind had nothing to do with renovation, though. Morgan would be expecting miracles, and if Bethany and Nash hoped to renovate this house while also having wild monkey sex every night, it would take several miracles.
8
N ASH SPENT A GOOD PART of the day teaching two of the
Last Chance Youth Program boys the correct way to muck out a stall. Eddie was a
blond and pudgy thirteen-year-old who was eager to please. The other kid, a
skinny, tattooed fourteen-year-old who insisted on being called Ace, had major
attitude. But Ace was careful not to cross the line into open insolence, as if
he knew how much swagger he could get away with before being sent home.
Dealing with the two contrasting personalities on the same work
detail was a challenge, but Nash discovered he liked it. Both boys obviously
yearned for a male role model, and when Nash caught them picking up his
mannerisms, he smiled to himself. Imitation was the sincerest form of
flattery.
Lindsay hadn’t been able to have kids, and had convinced him
that was just as well. He’d bought into her rationalizations, especially after
he’d begun to worry whether the marriage would last. Now that he looked back on
it, he understood that he’d been worried about that from the get-go, but he’d
been slow to admit defeat.
Now he was thirty-five, past the age when a lot of guys had
kids, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still consider it if he found the right
woman. Once he had his own place he could start thinking along those lines. For
now, he had these eight boys to practice on.
He’d gotten an unexpected kick out of that. He’d relished the
mental challenge of trying to outthink his two charges today. They could be
incredibly funny, and they’d obviously loved making him crack up. They could
also be achingly vulnerable and oblivious to the fact that they’d exposed their
innermost secrets.
He looked forward to describing the day’s activities to Bethany
because he knew she’d be interested. That wasn’t his main interest in going back
over there, of course. He ached to make love to her again, and kept checking the
time once the day’s activities wound down.
Surprisingly, he wasn’t as eager to hear Morgan’s estimate on
the Triple G’s value as he’d expected to be. If he ended up buying the ranch,
taking possession of it would coincide with Bethany leaving. Intellectually he
understood that, but emotionally he was a long way from accepting it.
He’d get to that point eventually. But not tonight. As he drove
over to the Triple G in the golden light of a brilliant sunset, a couple of his
own condoms tucked in his jeans pocket, he had to consciously ease up on the gas
pedal because his natural urge was to floor it. The washboard road slowed him
down some, but he took that too fast anyway and his truck rattled in
protest.
The previous night, he’d chosen his clothes so they’d be nice
enough to eat dinner in and old enough to make repairs in. Tonight he’d opted
for a worn pair of jeans, serviceable boots and a Western shirt with the sleeves
rolled back. If she was true to her word, it would all come off. The thought of
that caused the crotch of his jeans to pinch.
Although he halfway expected she might come out on the porch
when she heard his truck, he hadn’t anticipated that she’d be standing in the
middle of the yard waiting as he hit the brakes and turned off the engine. She
wore navy running
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