“Thank you for understanding.”
“Keep in mind, boy, the sooner you get back on the saddle, so to speak, the better.”
“Don’t call me, boy. I’m not your child and I don’t work for you. As for getting back on the saddle, that’s a low blow.”
His eyebrows lift in surprise. “You’re right. I should watch my mouth.”
Not quite an apology, but then again, this is Mr. Devon we’re talking about.
“Maybe next week you can come over the house for dinner...?”
He just ignored everything I said.
“Rosaleigh is a real good cook and she’s been talkin’ about you being back in town for good.”
For the love of God.“Mr. Devon, no disrespect, but she’s too young.”
He gazes back in wide-eyed bafflement. “What do you mean?”
“I have ten years on her. She’s only eighteen.”
“Old enough for babies. You know what I mean?” Mr. Devon slaps me on the shoulder so hard, I jerk forward. “Look at those wide hips. She even has large and heavy jugs like her grandma and her ma. Wait ‘til those are full of milk. Whooee!”
I cringe, disgusted by the crass comment.
“We were both only sixteen when I planted my seed deep into Mrs. Devon’s womb.”
Way too much information.
“Got twins right out of the gate. Not bad for a kid.” He roars.
“Times have changed.”
“Not like you’ll be banging rodeo groupies anymore.”
I always had a good head on my shoulders to stay away from buckle bunnies. Those women hunt rodeo riders on the circuit like it’s an Olympic sport. Too many other guys became daddies after just one fuck.
“I can take care of my sex life,” I say. “Don’t need your help.”
“I’m just sayin’ Rosaleigh is prettier than all those loose women who used to pine for your cock. My Rosy isn’t a walkin’ STD.”
Some topics should be off base when it comes to family.
At fifty-four, Cassidy Devon is a worse gossip than the old women down at the church on bingo night.
“Does your granddaughter know you’re trying to marry her off?”
“Course she does. I have her blessing.”
He’s in the pimping business now?“I didn’t realize this was a family conspiracy.”
“That’s the operative word.”
I knit my eyebrows. “I don’t follow.”
“Listen, if you were to date Rosaleigh and things became serious—which I’m sure they would—I mean, look at her.” He sticks his phone in my face. “You get with Rosy, and we’d become your family.”
“Mr. Dev?—”
