Masterpiece by Juliette Jones Read Free Book Online Page A

a few years ago . He got practically religious about it and one day thought, hell, I could make a living doing this. He took tourists out and showed them how to catch a few fish that they’d take home and mount on their wall in Detroit or some fucking place. Then the whole thing started to lose its shine. Caleb got sick of dealing with assholes who ended up fishing his favorite river almost dry. He hasn’t been fishing since.
    Anyway, I don’t want people knowing about my paintings because I don’t have any urge to please a bunch of assholes. I really don’t care if people like the art or not. That’s not why I’m doing it.
    I’m enjoying my peaceful buzz so much I completely forget the librarian is supposed to be on her way to my house. But then I notice the shittiest car I’ve ever seen driving down the dirt road that’ s only usually used for ranch vehicles; it’s bumpy as hell. This doesn’t bother the driver of the car though, who’s driving slower than I’ve ever seen a person drive a car. You could easily walk faster than she’s driving.
    I can see her now. The determined expression. The tied-up dark hair and those ridiculous black -framed glasses. Someone needs to untie all that hair and grab handfuls of it.
    After the five or so minutes it takes her to drive fifty feet, she pulls up in front of my house, kills the engine which sputters a couple times before dying, and steps out of the car with her pointy high-heeled city shoes. The sight of those shoes – fuck knows why – makes my cock stir.
    My hat is down low over my eyes and I raise my head enough to glare at her from under the rim. When she sees me sitting watching her she blushes a little, and smoothes her clothes self-consciously . As she does this, damn , my cock rages to full, throbbing life. I didn’t fully appreciate it at the rodeo but she’s got a killer little body under all those city clothes. C urvy all the right places.
    She starts walking over to me, wobbling as she makes her way over the rough ground. Something about the combination of her awkwardness and her sassy little stride has me all fucking worked up. Good thing I’m still wearing my leather chaps, which’ll mostly hide how massive my cock has suddenly become. Then again, who cares if she notices? The sight of my enraged hard-on might be enough to unsettle her and spook her back on down the road.“ Excuse me. Max Cash?”
    I don’t answer her right away. I want to watch her squirm a little.
    “Um, Mr. Cash, I wondered if we could talk. I’m –”
    “ Elle Parker. I know. I heard you were coming.”
    She adjusts her glasses. “ Oh. Yes. I’m so sorry to barge in on you like this, but I really wanted to talk to you about your --”
    “Come on up.”
    I could tell her to fuck off, which is what common sense is telling me to do. But I’ve just had an idea. A very good idea. Shit, maybe I am a fucking genius.
    I find myself wanting to see what she looks like without those glasses, and with her dark hair long and loose. I decide I wouldn’t mind checking out what all those curves look like without the buttoned-up clothes hiding everything from view.
    “I, um … well, I –”
    I decide to lay on some charm. “Can I offer you a whiskey?”
    “Um. Okay.” She sits in one of the carved wooden chairs and I pour her a generous helping. The girl could obviously use some loosening up. Especially if I’m going to have any luck at all talking her into what I’m about to suggest.
    Because she’s perfect for what have in mind.
    Absolutely perfect.

     

Chapter Eight

     
     
     
     
     
    Holy freaking hell.
    This is insane .
    It’s him . Seriously, this guy could have stepped straight out of my erotic dream. He’s such a dead-ringer for my fantasy cowboy i t’s freaking me out a little, if you really want to know. How could I have dreamed him before I even met him? That kind of thing just doesn’t happen.
    But it has.
    And if I thought his brother Travis was