Socialite and the Cowboy - Page 6

“Three months in a home that has more luxuries than this fancy hotel will be a breeze. Once you’ve met the stipulations, you’ll get your property and then sell it to me,” Calder says as if he has it all figured out already. I wander away from him, needing space. It’s hard to think with him touching me.

“Why did he give it to me if all of you wanted it? You’re his family.” Forty million is a lot to me. It’s nothing to the Justice family. They’re billionaires.

“I don’t know why,” he offers.

“What if I said no? That I wasn’t coming?” All this isn’t sitting right with me. I’m being baited out there for some reason.

“You’ll come. You’ll stay and then…”

“I sell and leave,” I finish when he trails off for some reason.

“Right,” he agrees, breaking eye contact with me and starting to walk around the suite. “Earl wanted this for some reason. He knew he was dying and put this into his will. Are you going to say no to a dead man’s last request?”

“You’re not mad he did this to you?” I bet my mom is livid.

“No. Now go pack a few bags. I’ll send someone to get the rest,” he orders. I glare at his back as he wanders around, inspecting some of the things I’ve placed around to make it homier here in the hotel. He expects me to jump when he orders it. I’m sure everyone else does.

“Fine,” I agree but only this one time. He better not get used to ordering me around. “But, Calder.” He turns to face me again. “That’s the last order you’ll be giving me,” I tell him before heading toward the bedroom to get some of my things. The sound of Cane’s laughter follows me until Calder tells him to shut up.

Chapter Five

Calder

“This is humiliating,” Birdie moans as I lift her out of the ‘copter.

Cane takes a deep whiff of the fresh air when he lands beside me, bags in hand. It’s a relief to be out of the enclosed space where the stench of vomit still lingers.

“It’s nothing, Birdie. Everyone gets motion sickness.”

“Really? But I’ve flown before.”

“'Copters are different.” I hitch her higher to my chest and walk as steadily as possible across the lawn, but even that small motion makes her moan and bury her face into my chest. I should not be getting an erection from this kind of contact, but my damn dick doesn’t know the difference between a sick woman and a horny one.

“They are,” Cane affirms. “They fly lower and have a distinct swooping motion. For some, that just does it.”

She moans again as if listening to Cane describe the flight is as bad as experiencing it firsthand. I silently tell Cane to shut it, and he mouths a sorry.

We get to the main house in time for Birdie to scramble out of my arms and retch in the bushes next to the south-facing porch that runs along the back of the house.

A shadow stretches over Birdie’s bent-over figure. I look up to see Laura, the widow, standing at the top step.

“Brought your girl, ma’am. No thanks necessary.” The sarcasm leaks out, but Laura is unaffected.

“Thank you.” She steps down off the porch and hands a folded handkerchief to Birdie. “Here. Clean up and come inside when you’re ready. The staff will show you to your rooms.”

I don’t have to be a mind reader to see that Birdie is hurt, and that, more than anything that Laura has ever done before, including marrying Earl, pisses me the hell off. I lift Birdie back into my arms and stride up the porch stairs and into the house.

“No,” she moans. “Just leave me outside to die.”

“The hell I will.” I take her up the circular stairs flanking the front entrance and down the family quarters all the way to my suite. Cane’s following close behind with her bags in his hands.

“Your room, Calder?” he questions quietly.

“Safest for her here.” I place her on the big, custom-made bed. Laura doesn’t come down to the family wing. She has a whole set of rooms on the first floor in what Earl called his love nest. It was where all the brides lived for the duration of their marriages with Earl—except his first wife. She shared Earl’s room. He, like all Justices, went off the rails after she passed. It was only trophies after that. Women who looked pretty and didn’t say a word. He changed them out as often as he switched up his cars.

“Shoes off, Birdie.”

“I hope this is my funeral bed you’ve laid me on.” She throws an arm over her eyes.

“Get some crackers and tea sent up here,” I tell Cane as I pull off a pair of worn flats. I stare at the cracked tan sole and wonder how long she’s had these. Her mom’s been spending Earl’s money like it’s growing on trees in the back forty while her kid is suffering in the city, wearing shoes that are thin as paper.

Tags: Ella Goode Romance
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