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My father was quiet for a few moments. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Write the article how you see fit. I’m sure you can find a magazine that wants it if Sports Monthly passes.”
Nodding, I said, “I will. I do need to let the family know what’s happened. I owe them that much. If Brock says I can still stay and write the article, then I’ll finish it and pitch it somewhere else.”
“That’s my girl. If you need anything, you let me know, okay?”
“I will, Dad. Thank you for everything.”
“Tell everyone I said hi. As a matter of fact, your mother wants to come out and visit the ranch soon.”
“You should! Especially now that you have the free time.”
Dad was on the verge of retiring in a few months, so I was glad he and my mom could finally start traveling like they had always talked about.
He laughed. “We might do that. Talk soon, angel.”
“Bye, Dad.”
After hitting End, I stripped out of yesterday’s clothes and stood under the hot water for what felt like forever. I dried my hair, put a bit of mascara on, and then pulled on some jeans and a sweater. After slipping on my cowboy boots, I made my way to the kitchen only to find it empty. One peek out front and in the garage told me that Blayze was already gone. He had made coffee, though, so bless him for that.
I poured some in a Yeti cup, grabbed my computer and bag and the notebook I had already started making notes in, and headed out to the rental. I wasn’t about to let some man dictate how my career would end. Hell to the no. I’d find Brock and tell him everything, then I’d let him decide if he wanted me to continue doing a story or not.
Seven hours later, I barely managed to crawl my way up Blayze’s porch and over to one of the rocking chairs before I nearly collapsed into it. To say I was exhausted was an understatement. I’d spent the entire day following Brock and Blayze around as they’d worked the ranch. I’d truly wanted to see what running a large cattle and grain ranch was like, so I had dove into it with them. They never stopped working. After a good solid five hours of physical work, they’d both retired to their offices and I’d found myself sitting in a stable again. I’d needed the peace and quiet and, honestly, I’d been hoping that Blayze wouldn’t find me.
After figuring out what to say to Brock this morning, I’d made my way over to his house. I’d told him everything—including that I was looking for a new magazine to pitch—and he’d told me he wanted me to stay on. We’d both agreed that I needed to tell Blayze everything, and I’d promised I would. I knew he would probably hate me for it, but it wasn’t something I could keep a secret anymore.
Kicking off one boot, I groaned. “No wonder all the men around here are in shape.” I pulled off my other boot and let it fall onto the porch. The cool air felt good on my swollen feet as I pulled my socks off and stuffed them into my boots.
The sound of Blayze’s truck coming up the drive had me sitting up a bit straighter. He parked behind my rental and jumped out like he had the energy of a five-year-old. I’d gone over what I wanted to say to him a million times today. Nothing seemed to sound right. No matter what I told him, I knew he’d have a hard time trusting me because I hadn’t told him right at the very beginning.
As Blayze made his way up the porch, he frowned. “You look tired. Are you okay, Georgie?” He looked like he was trying to hide a smile, but he was clearly failing at it.
I shot him a dirty look. “I’m exhausted, Blayze. I think I’ve done more manual labor today than I have my entire life. And my grandparents owned a horse ranch. Plus, I’m mentally exhausted.”
“A horse ranch,” he said with a laugh.
“For your information”—I started to rub my foot—“I was responsible for mucking out the stalls. I had to groom my own horse as well and saddle them up anytime we went for a ride. I wasn’t raised like a princess.”
He winked. “No wonder you were always better at brushing the horses than I was.”
Laughing, I replied, “You were obsessed with bulls back then. And girls.”
“Nah.” He sat down and motioned for me to lift my leg. “Give me your foot.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Give it to me,” he demanded.
Doing as he asked, I lifted it into his lap. The moment he started to massage my foot, I knew I was in big trouble. Blayze’s hands on me were dangerous for my lady parts. Add in a massage, and I was sure to give him anything he wanted. Plus, I really needed to talk to him about the article. I was about to speak when he beat me to it.
