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“Of course, you did. You made this tree your bitch.”
“Man, my dad is such an asshole, making a joke like that. It’s just to watch us all get uncomfortable too. And then Jasper has to go from saying shit-all to delivering the killing blow without even breaking a sweat.”
Cade sits on a dark horse, speckled with gray—a beautiful blue roan color with black mane and tail—which perfectly matches his black cowboy hat, signature bicep-hugging black T-shirt, and black leather chaps over worn jeans. He’s seated comfortably in the saddle. Leather-gloved hands on the horn of his saddle, hip popped comfortably, with a toothpick hanging out the side of his mouth and an amused smirk on his lips.
“Good girl,”
Turning back, I dangle them in my fingers. Cade doesn’t look surprised at all; he just regards me with his Annoyed Scowl. “You kept these?” I demand, sounding petulant even to myself. “You told me you threw them away.” “I lied,” he grits out. “Why?” “Because you’ve never been just the nanny, Willa.”