Slow Hand (Hot Cowboy Nights, #1)(77)

“You have no idea what you’re getting into,” he argued. “You don’t have a clue about the economics of it. It’s not like you just throw some cows on the pasture, watch them eat grass, and count the days until they’re fat enough to take to market.”

“Then enlighten me.”

“All right.” He gave an exasperated groan. “In the most basic operation your first expense is the herd. At minimum, you need a bull and two or three dozen cows and heifers. Thirty is about the max a single bull can handle, unless you opt for artificial insemination.”

“That seems unfair to the poor cows.”

He gaped, feeling completely derailed. “What do you mean?”

“Depriving them of the bull. Don’t you think they enjoy it too, Wade? It appears the bulls do, anyway. I’ve watched some YouTube videos. They mount, thrust frantically, ejaculate, and then move on to the next cow. Bulls are very well endowed, aren’t they? Do you think they satisfy their cows?”

“I doubt they care very much either way.”

“We’re also a lot more versatile in our techniques, aren’t we? I mean bulls and cows, stallions and mares, canines and felines, they all do it doggie-style, don’t they? I guess that’s the biggest difference between animals and humans, isn’t it? Animals are so mechanical about it while we copulate for pleasure. You and I explored quite a few different ways, didn’t we, Wade? I want happy cows. I could never deprive them of a good…bull. What’s a decent one cost?”

The sudden invasion of erotic imagery had him struggling for coherency. “Cost? Probably five to ten grand, depending on the breed.”

“Well, I’d want to make sure I got the best one. How can you tell? By the size of his”—her gaze slowly passed over him—“apparatus? Does that matter, Wade? Does it help in breeding if they fit together real snug and tight?”

The question sent another surge of blood to his groin. She’d been so hot, wet, and tight it had blown his mind. He shook off those thoughts with an exasperated sound. “This is a ridiculous conversation!”

“No, it’s not,” she protested. “I want strong, virile bulls that will satisfy my cows. I’m sure bulls like that are real hard to find. I don’t want frustrated cows, Wade. It’s miserable not to be satisfied, do you know that?”

He could hardly think at all now…beyond dragging her into his bed and f*cking some sense into her. “I can’t believe you’re seriously thinking about this.”

“I am. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I got here.” She held his gaze as if she read his thoughts.

“At startup you’re already in to the tune of fifty grand and you still have to feed the animals.”

“But I have a thousand acres of prime grassland.”

“Which is covered with snow for five to six months. On top of feed, you still have the cost of ranch hands, vet visits, and general farm expenses. You see, Nikki? You’re in belly-deep and will have negligible profit for years. Do you understand now? Ranching sucks—as a lifestyle and an investment.”

“Well, speaking of what sucks, Wade…it sucked to be in a job I hated… I told you I wanted to be in control of my life…but it sucked to be alone…it seems I’ve become an expert at things that suck. I’d rather suck you, Wade.”

He drew in a breath. Holy hell, it was agony to sit there after that remark and pretend he didn’t feel anything. “Let me be sure I understand this,” he replied slowly, deliberately. “You wouldn’t stay here when I asked you to, but now you’d come back just because you suddenly have a harebrained notion to raise cattle? I’m not buying it.”

*

He was slouched in the chair wearing only his faded jeans and a deepening frown. He’d never looked sexier, but he’d also never looked so distant. She was desperate to get a rise out of him but he’d hardly blinked when she’d blurted a crude offer of a blow job.

Had she just made a fool of herself? Had she come all this way for nothing?

“You’re not really here to talk about ranching.”

“No, Wade.”

“Then why are you really here?” he demanded. “What do you want?

“There are some things I need to say to you.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about everything you said—about not trusting you. About pushing you away. You were right. You were right about a lot of things. When you asked me before I left what I wanted, I told you I didn’t know. That wasn’t exactly true. I already knew what I wanted but I didn’t believe I could have it.”

“And what’s that?” he asked.

She took a deep breath. “You.” She watched for any flicker of emotion, but he remained impassive, unreadable. She’d waltzed in with such bravado but now felt so uncertain, so vulnerable. “Am I too late? Are you already involved with someone else?”

“Not at present.” His crystal gaze held hers.

“I want a joint venture with you, Wade. What’s it gonna cost me?”

“I don’t know,” he replied slowly, hauling himself out of the chair. “You still talkin’ ranching?”

“No,” she answered, tension coiling in her belly as he came toward her. “Ranching just seemed like a good excuse to come.”