“Weather should fuck off quick enough, it’s only likely to keep snowing until tomorrow.” “You’re all good for supplies over there?” I mean, the man might have spent a career hanging onto the back of a bull like a goddamn lunatic, but he’s particularly shit at taking care of himself. Storm lives hard and fast, and more than once, I’ve wondered if he gives a damn about anything other than horses and finding his next one-night stand. “Aw. Offering to saddle up, ride over here and tuck me in are you, sunshine?” “Fuck you very much.” He chuckles. “Still need a hand with the next cattle round-up?”
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