Her gaze turns toward me as though she’s in thought. Finally, her full lips part. “One.” She holds up her finger. “One glass of lemonade, and you drink it standing on the front porch.”
I nod toward her, a grin on my face the size of Colorado itself. “Deal.”
Chapter Three
Cora
I’ve never watched a man drink so intently in my life.
In Austin’s giant hand, the glass of lemonade I’ve poured looks small. He tips his head back and sucks down the liquid, his Adam's apple bobbing as he drinks.
When he’s finally gulped the last bit, he embellishes a refreshed sigh and hands me the glass, our fingertips brushing against each other in the exchange.
If he were anyone else, I’d offer him more, but right now I need to distance myself from everything tall, dark, and cocky. If I don’t, the unbearable regrets already running through me are only going to get worse.
Then why am I finding him so frustratingly cute?Truthfully, he’s everything I’d ever pick for myself. He’s tall, inked, dark, insanely hot, and he’s got this smart-ass attitude that I’m drawn to. And when he went and got my horse, I acted pissed. But really, I wanted to jump all over the man. It was the first time in ages anyone has doneanythingto take the pressure off me.
That, however, is the wrong reaction for an engaged woman to be having.
I suck in a deep breath and cage the glass between my hand, hoping he leaves without me asking again, because I’m not sure I have the strength to keep pushing him away.
His arms flex at his side and he looks toward me. “You make that?”
“Make what?”
“The lemonade.”
I tip my head to the side. “Yes. Why? You going to tell me you could do it better?”
“I’m not sure anyone could’ve done it better. It was perfect. You should sell the stuff.”
I laugh. “Are you telling me I should have a lemonade stand? I’m not sure that’s going to pay my adult bills, but thanks.”
“I guess, if that’s what you want to do with your life. I was thinking bottle it and sell it at the market. The same way people sell pies. You might make a killing, enough to save the ranch on your own.”
“Yeah right. Making pies takes actual talent. This is lemonade. Everyone knows how to make lemonade.”
He laughs. “Not everyone. I’ll give you a glass of my sister’s sometime. Trust me, yours is better by a country mile.”
“Well, that’s nice of you to say, but I’m not going to get rich selling yellow water at the market.”
“Liquid gold.” He grins. “I’m telling you. I know a guy who sells vegetables every week. I’m sure he’d be happy to give you the details.” His gloves pass between his hands as he talks. They're covered in dirt and worn.
“We’ll see. I’m not sure the juice is worth the squeeze.”
He laughs at my sad attempt at a joke, then turns toward the car rumbling up the driveway. It’s a Tesla and I recognize it right away.
“I’m guessing that’s Richie Rich?”
My stomach tightens and I look up at Austin. “You have to go.”
His forehead wrinkles. “Why?I want to meet the guy.”
The car door shuts, and Rick strides up the driveway with his stare set on Austin. He’s a tall, spindly guy with a clean-shaven face and a look of arrogance that’s both unsexy and unearned. He lifts his black sunglasses and settles them into the front pocket of his suit coat and reaches out a hand. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
Austin grins a shit faced grin. “Austin Sparks. I brought the stud you hired for breeding.”
Next to Austin, Rick looks frail. I shouldn’t think these things about him.