Heath: Only three more days until I’m home.
Charlie: Counting the hours.
A smile crosses my face, loving that she misses me as much as I do her and can’t wait until I can finally hold her in my arms again.
Briggs returns to my side, sliding his chair over to give himself more space before taking a seat. The man is at least six-five, only adding to his already commanding presence.
I look around and notice several women openly gawking at us from across the room. Their eyes linger with obvious interest, but I pay them no mind. There’s only one woman I want, and she’s at home right now, getting off with my name on her lips.
Briggs is oblivious to the attention, his dark steel-gray eyes glued to his phone. I seriously doubt a woman is on the other end unless it’s business-related. I don’t hold a candle to him as a workaholic. The man never switches off, making work his default setting.
He glances up long enough to signal the bartender, and two whiskeys appear in front of us almost instantly.
“Thanks.” I tip my hat at the bartender. “Does everyone get the white-glove treatment around here?” I ask Briggs with amusement.
He shrugs, running a hand across his beard. “Doubt it. I’m an investor in the place.”
Of course he is. From what I’ve heard, the man has a stake in more ventures than I have horses.
I rest my elbow on the bar, turning slightly toward Briggs. “Let me guess, you own the whole damn town too?”
“Only half,” he deadpans before knocking back a swig of whiskey.
I let out a low whistle. “You’ve accomplished a hell of a lot at forty-five.”
“Forty-four,” he mutters.
“And Charlie callsmeold.” I smirk, lifting my glass for a drink.
“That woman of yours is a real firecracker, isn’t she?” He’s heard me talk about her enough to say it without hesitation.
“That she is,” I answer with a broad grin. “How about you? Have anyone waiting for you at home?”
I’m not one for small talk, but Briggs never talks about his life outside of work. That’s piqued my curiosity about his personalrelationships, or lack thereof, based on the rumors I’ve heard since I got here.
He shakes his head. “Nah. I have a closet full of skeletons and a mountain of hate I have no intention of letting go of. No sane woman would stick around if she knew what was good for her. I’ve made peace with the fact that I’ll die alone.”
“Careful,” I warn with a smirk, swirling the whiskey in my glass. “I used to say the same thing, and now I have a gorgeous wife waiting for me at home and a kid on the way.”
“Maybe, but I bet you always wanted those things,” Briggs counters.
I nod.
He’s right. I used to wish I had a wife and kids of my own, and now that I’m halfway there, I realize just how damn lucky I really am.
“It makes sense, considering your background,” Briggs continues. “You grew up with a father who believed in you and a family who supported you. I had a tyrant with a powerful backhand who had enough bastard kids to populate a small town.” He hesitates for a second, and I swear I see him shudder, but it’s over in a blink. “There’s no telling how many half-siblings I have running around. I’ve already had to ward off my fair share trying to get a piece of the fortune I’ve built with my own blood and sweat.” He drains the last of his whiskey and waves the bartender over for another. “If my old man hadn’t kicked the bucket when he did, he would have run the business into the ground.”
I can’t imagine the hell Briggs has lived through. It reminds me of Charlie’s situation with her parents not being around. I sympathize, but I’ll never truly grasp the pain of wondering why someone would abandon their child or treat them with anything less than love and protection. It hits a lot harder now that I’m about to become a dad.
“Sorry you’ve had to go through all that,” I say, taking a drink of my whiskey.“But just because you had a shitty father doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be a good one.”
“You used to be a hell of a lot more cynical,” Briggs observes with a humorless laugh. “Guess it’s true what they say about love changing a man.”
I haven’t outright said it to her yet, but there’s no question that I love Charlie and that I’m a much better man with her as my wife.
“Yeah, it does,” I agree, scrubbing a hand over my face. “The problem is I never want to leave her side, but the ranch demands so much of my time lately. It’s a fucking nightmare to balance it all.”
Briggs arches a brow. “Do you not have enough ranch hands? I can give you some recommendations if you need them. We get hundreds of applications every month, and there are plenty of qualified candidates looking for good wages and honest work that we don’t have enough room to bring on here.”
