Page 91 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
I eye her for a second. “What about Juniper?”
Her smile falters. “He’s already tried to sneak into my bag. Twice.”
I’m not surprised. The thought of her skunk, with his scruffy fur and big, soulful eyes, attempting such a thing sounds accurate.
“Don’t laugh. He’s waiting outside. I’m breaking his little heart. I’ve never left him for a week.”
She pauses, glancing out the window with a look of utter betrayal in the yard.
“You’re gonna have to make this up to him.” I grab the rest of the bags and follow her outside.
“You’re coming.” Josie throws her arms around me, and we stumble back. “This means two birthday celebrations.”
I shake my head. “No. The other night was enough. Let’s just focus on the bucket list.” The words sound wrong, but that’s why I agreed to come.
“At least let us have cake,” Josie pleads.
“Pie.”
She smiles. “Pie it is.”
“And no singing.”
‘Cross my heart.” Josie makes the action, but I highly doubt she’ll follow through.
We head to the meeting spot in front of the lodge. Josie high-tails it inside the RV, threatening anyone who tries to wake her before we arrive. I load my bags and pull out my clipboard to double-check everything when the Wildes roll up. I mentally begin preparing myself for a week with these guys when Hart steps out of the behemoth of a converted bus.
This is not the clusterfuck I signed up for.
I dust off my cut-off jean shorts and march straight toward him, pulse racing.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Nice to see you, too.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” My voice shakes with barely controlled anger.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m here to make sure this event doesn’t turn into a disaster.”
My jaw tightens, and my hands curl at my sides. “Oh, really?”
He leans in a little, not enough to touch, but just enough to make me want to take a step back.
“You don’t trust me, huh?” His voice is sharp, biting. “Funny, because I don’t trust you either. Figured I’d better comeand make sure everything doesn’t fall apart while you’re too distracted finishing your bucket list with your new cowboy.”
“Wait a minute. Are you here because of the bucket list or who I plan to finish it with?”
“I’m here to make sure your family doesn’t embarrass ours in front of half the circuit. To keep you from turning our booth into a Pinterest project gone wrong, remember?”
I fold my arms over my front, clutching my clipboard, and rock on the back of my boots. “Why do you care so much about the book?”
“I don’t.”
He flicks my clipboard. “Why don’t you toss that away and live in the moment?”
I wedge it under my arm. “You touch my clipboard again and I swear I’ll staple you to the wall.”
“Kinky.”
