His Perfect Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch - Spicy Version Book 1) by Merry Farmer Read Free Book Online

“Maybe if I squeeze through and push from the other side.”
    She turned sideways and slid through the door beside Franklin. For one heightened moment, their bodies brushed against each other. Corva rested her hand against his shoulder to balance herself, more due to the dizziness of being so close to him. Struggles or not, she could feel the firmness of his chest and arms, the tautness of his stomach, as she slipped by him. Crippled legs or not, he was a man who kept himself in prime physical condition. Lifting things indeed.
    By the time she stepped out onto the porch, her heart was pounding so fast even Luke would approve. She pressed a hand to her hot cheek to cool it, even though the gesture was far too obvious. Something else. She needed to think of something else before the awkwardness—was that awkwardness or was it…more?—consumed her. Franklin hadn’t moved a muscle since the moment of contact.
    When Corva finally dared to glance up at him, she found him studying her with more enigmatic and unreadable emotion in his eyes. That only made her flush deeper. He couldn’t possibly—
    “Whoa, whoa, I can help with that.”
    Both Corva and Franklin flinched and gasped at the interrupting voice. Corva twisted to see a tall, handsome man with long, dark blond hair tied at the base of his neck dismounting an equally handsome roan horse. He let the horse go with a pat to its flank, then strode toward the porch with long strides.
    “Here,” he said as he reached the doorway and the crates.
    Franklin stepped back, lifting his hands in a gesture that almost looked like surrender. He backed into the house. Corva followed him. Seconds later, the long-haired man carried both of the crates inside as if they were nothing.
    “Thanks, Jarvis.” Franklin nodded for him to set the crates against the wall near the door.
    “Don’t mention it.” Once his hands were free, Jarvis planted them on his hips and turned to where Franklin and Corva stood, side-by-side, a grin on his sun-touched face. “Is this the bride we’ve been hearing so much about?”
    Franklin cleared his throat and sent Corva an apologetic smile. “Corva, I’d like you to meet Jarvis Flint.”
    The name rang a bell. “Oh. You’re the one who works for Virginia Piedmont.”
    “I’m her foreman, you’re right.” Jarvis extended a hand.
    Corva took it, impressed by how large and warm it was and how firm his handshake.
    “It’s a true honor to meet you, ma’am,” he said, then, with a glance to Franklin, “We’re all so happy that Franklin has finally found someone to settle down with.”
    Somewhere under the pleasantries, Corva caught a distinct feeling that he was also implying “We’ve all been worried about him.”
    “I’m happy to be here,” Corva answered. She glanced to Franklin, making sure he knew her comment was as much for him as for Jarvis.
    An awkward pause followed. Corva waited for Franklin to say something, but his lips seemed to be glued shut, and a flush had come to his cheeks. Without touching him, she could see his muscles had gone hard as rocks. Jarvis seemed equally as much at a loss for words and ground his toe into the carpet. The silence between the two men was as good as a novel.
    “Anyhow.” Jarvis finally broke the silence, as if they were in the middle of a conversation instead of stuck in a ditch beside one. He shifted his weight and let his hands drop. “I came to talk to you about the calves.”
    Business took over, and Franklin transformed before Corva’s eyes. He stood straighter, squared his shoulders, and frowned. “What about them?”
    “Some are missing,” Jarvis said. “Well, I guess that’s what you call it when a cow goes out to pasture plump and pregnant and comes back not pregnant.” He glanced to Corva. “If you’ll pardon my saying, ma’am.”
    “It’s fine.” Corva waved away the frank talk.
    “They’re coming back not pregnant?” Franklin crossed his arms, rubbing his chin.