I reach over to give Florence’s hand a squeeze. “Grams and I are lucky to have you looking out for us.”
She pats my hand, snorting. “Lucky? I’m practically a saint putting up with you two.”
“Thank god for that,” I beam.
Lovesick Fool
I’ve been in Wyoming for a week, and I’m itching to get back to Bluebell.
I reached out to Briggs a while back like I promised Pops I would, but the man was impossible to pin down. So when he finally returned my call a couple of weeks ago and invited me up to look at his cattle options and see how he runs his operation, I couldn’t pass it up. The decision became much easier when Walker and Jensen offered to help Pops hold down the ranch while I was away.
The downside is not having Charlie here with me. I’d much rather be curled up in bed with her watching one of her favorite shows than stuck at a bar on a Saturday night.
After another jam-packed day of showing me around his property, Briggs suggested we stop for a beer. He might be a surly bastard, but he knows how to entertain and put on a good face when required. Not that I expected him to do any of that for me.
I’m a small fish in the big pond of large-scale cattle ranches, and he doesn’t owe me anything. Still, he not only personally took me to see his top breeding stock but also gave me an extensive behind-the-scenes tour of his ranch and the processes his team has implemented allowing them to scale exponentially. I’m under no illusion that Silver Saddle Ranch will ever be in that league, but we could adopt several of his processes to streamline our workflow and accelerate our growth.
From what I’ve seen, that would probably require not only hiring at least one foreman but also several more experienced hands, as well as a significant investment in infrastructure. Briggs’s place alone employs over a hundred people, including ranch hands, equipment operators, and administrative staff. It’s no wonder ranchers from all over the country beg to study his methods. I’m lucky we’re friends and that he’s been willing to mentor me, mostly through emails and calls. However, learning from him in person has been a game changer.
Still, I miss Charlie so damn much. She’s been going to bed early, so we haven’t had a chance to talk on the phone the past couple of days, but I’ve been checking in with texts since I left.
Briggs excused himself shortly after we got to the bar to take a phone call, so I send her a message while I wait for him to get back.
Heath: Got a text from Walker earlier. He clocked a certain redhead doing forty-five in atwenty-five-mile zone today. Know anything about that?
Charlie: I think he needs glasses. Must be a side effect of old age.
I roll my eyes. Walker’s a year younger than me.
Charlie: Smart of him not to pull over his pregnant sister-in-law.
Heath: How do you figure?
Charlie: I would’ve burst into tears, and he’d have regretted every life choice that led him there.
Heath: No doubt.
Charlie would’ve absolutely played it up, and I don’t blame her. With all the changes and restrictions pregnancy brings, she deserves to cause a little mischief when the occasion calls for it, and teasing Walker is fair game in my book.
Charlie: Wish you were here. I’m really horny.
Heath: Jesus, hellcat.
Charlie: I’m taking Betty for a spin. It’s not the same as that giant dick of yours, but it’ll have to do until you get home.
Heath: Show me.
Charlie sent a photo
I glance around to make sure no one’s close enough to see my screen before viewing it, angling the phone toward my chest.
Charlie’s lying on the bed, legs wide, the vibrator deep inside her, and her mouth forming a perfect “O” as she lets out what I imagine is a breathy moan. My wife is a damn vision. I’d give anything to be there with her, burying my face between her thighs as she falls apart on my tongue.
Charlie: Wishing you were here, aren’t you?
Heath: Hell yes. I’d bury myself so deep you’d feel me for days.
Charlie: I’m soaked just thinking about it.
