Greed Page 12


“There’s heat, electricity and running water,” Jonah mentioned, setting our stuff on the sofa. “Although, you might want to keep a few extra blankets around when a blizzard comes ’round, and they will.”

“Thank you, Jonah,” Bridge said, studying her surroundings. “We’re very grateful,” she added.

Jonah smiled and nodded. “I’ll leave you to it. Dinner’s in an hour. See you there?”

“Of course,” Bridge answered waving at him before closing the door.

We stood in silence, taking in our surroundings.

“It’s-It’s definitely different than L.A.,” she said, breaking the quiet.

I was used to living in confined spaces living in a Brown dorm, but this was all very new to her.

“You’re going to be okay with this?” I asked.

She stiffened her upper lip. “Of course. I wasn’t lying when I said I was grateful. Besides, maybe they’ve got a shop in town. We can, like, spruce it up a bit?”

I laughed at her. “That’s cool, Bridge. I’ll give you some cash.”

“Can we afford it?” she asked.

I pretended to calculate in my head. “I think we can swing it. Besides, I need to go into Kalispell for a few things anyway. Find a bank, somehow open an account without Dad finding out, find a doctor for you.”

Her face dropped. “I almost forgot,” she said, a sad smile gracing her face. “The whole reason we’re here.”

“Exactly,” I added, inspecting the trailer, “which means boys aren’t even an option out here.”

“What the hell?”

“I saw how Jonah looked at you. I’m just sayin’.”

She rolled her eyes. “Which bed do you want?”

“Bridge, I mean it, no boys.”

She stiffened her back. “Spencer, you really know how to piss a girl off, don’t you? Trust me, my focus is a little preoccupied at the moment.”

Chapter Thirteen

We unpacked as best we could and I noticed there wasn’t a TV or pretty much anything of convenience really.

“We’re going to have to make a list,” I said, stepping back out into the cold.

Bridge closed the door behind her and ran to the truck. We drove back to the main house when Ellie asked us to. The ranch seemed pretty quiet from what we could tell, except for a few guys here and there. One in particular was on a horse and heading toward the barn. He looked like he might have been Native American, but his features appeared mixed. The only confirmation I could get was that he had a long ponytail at the base of his neck wrapped in leather.

“Hummina-hummina-hummina,” Bridge joked.

“No,” I reiterated.

“I can look,” she laughed.

We parked where we had before and made our way up the wood stairs. I dragged my hand over the smooth wooden handrail. I couldn’t believe how smooth the wood was. We knocked on the main door and stood hopping in our boots while we waited for someone to answer. We saw Ellie run toward us and swing open one of the double doors.

“Sorry, we usually enter through the side door. It’s closer to the dining hall.”

We walked in and took in the expanse of the main room. It was larger than our own main room back home. I’d failed to gauge just how large the home was from the outside because it was overshadowed by the surrounding mountains. The walls were covered in Indian blankets and stuffed animal heads. In the middle of the thirty-foot ceiling dangled a large antler chandelier.

It’s all Petticoat Junction and shit in here, I thought as I looked around. I unknowingly slapped my hands together and rubbed them back and forth. I let Ellie think it was about the cold. Now, if I could only find a Bobbie Jo.

Just then, across the main room, entering from some sort of back door, a small figure emerged. She closed the door behind her after a large German shepherd mix shook out his coat and sat panting beside her. Time seemed to stand still as she stomped the snow off her rubber riding boots and removed her large jacket and gloves, revealing the shapeliest body I’d seen in years. She had these long gray socks under her boots that rose to just below the knee over her skintight jeans. My eyes traveled up.

I took in a red plaid button-up fitted to her like a glove. My stomach clenched waiting for her face, but she seemed to take forever unwrapping her scarf. Round and round and round her hand went, but she turned right when I could have gotten a good look. I cursed her under my breath. I felt this inexplicable urge to run over to her and turn her around.

She hung up her scarf next to her jacket and pulled her cap off her head. She shook out chin-length straight dark black hair then ran her hands throughout its length, smoothing out any knots. She bent over, sending me reeling and unzipped the long zippers on the backs of her rubber boots, stepping out of them and landing on the floor in her socks.

I discovered that she was the cutest, sexiest little thing I’d ever seen, and I hadn’t even seen her face yet.

She began to turn and I held my breath in anticipation.

Holy. Shit.

The full sight of her nearly blew me over. I felt this punch to my gut and chest I’d never felt before, not even with Sophie. My hand went to my heart as if I could stop its pounding. This girl was beyond stunning. A French cut bob on a heart-shaped face. Her cheeks glowed a bright pink from the cold, highlighting her high cheekbones. Her eyebrows arched perfectly over big, bright round eyes with the longest lashes I’ve ever seen on a chick. Her mouth formed a perfect moue. Her pouty lips were fuller on the bottom. Her button nose was straight and so soft looking I wanted to kiss it more than anything in the world. I would have paid a million dollars in that moment to do just that. I felt like a perfect tool just for thinking it.

She was pixie-like in her stature as well, standing, maybe, five foot three. She stepped forward, no, stretched forward like a dancer, and smoothed her hands down her hair once more. I sucked in a breath, not realizing I already hadn’t.

That’s when she noticed us and smirked a little, betraying a cleverness I didn’t think could be conveyed with a single facial expression. She stalked toward us looking altogether innocent yet at the same time very dangerous. She was punk met West, like Christina Ricci met Annie Get Your Gun. This girl looked feisty.

“Ah, Cricket,” Ellie said, wrapping her arm around the girl’s shoulders.

This was Cricket?! I felt bowled over. This girl was August’s cousin? I’d always assumed she was a dude. No wonder Jonah laughed.

“Grandma,” she acknowledged, eyeing me with a hooded tiger’s gaze. She had her grandmother’s cerulean eyes.

“Cricket, this is Spencer Blackwell and his sister Bridget.”

“Nice to meet you,” she purred.

Roll that tongue up, buddy. Drool is unattractive. Cricket winked at me like she could read my thoughts and I almost fell backward. I smiled. Cheeky little minx.

Yeah, feisty was a perfect word for her.

I watched her bounce on the balls of her feet, smiling, and fiddling with the bottom hem of her shirt. She gestured with her hands a lot. Her fingers were slender and topped with a deep purple. She kept them short. I liked girls with short nails. They looked more feminine to me than when worn long. Her hair shook back and forth when she talked, her short bangs resting across her brows. She would occasionally blow at them then smooth them back down with her hands. When she laughed, she laughed with her entire body, throwing her head back and revealing dimples at her cheeks.

My God, I was so attracted to this chick. I couldn’t even pin it down to one thing. If you took everything I’d ever found hot, beautiful in a girl and piled them into a corner, you’d get Cricket Hunt...standing in a corner.

I stood, staring at her for God only knows how long until Bridge elbowed me. “Did you hear that, Spence?” she gritted.

“I’m sorry?” I asked, genuinely lost.

Her eyes bugged a little at me, silently telling me to get my head in the game. “Ellie was saying that Kalispell’s close by. I was telling her we’d need to go into town for a few things, find a doctor and a bank.”

“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat, then glancing my way back to Cricket. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. “We need to find a bank and a doctor for Bridge,” I said absently, my eyes finding Ellie then moving immediately back to Cricket.

Bridge rolled her eyes.

“Well, dinner’s right through here,” Ellie added cheerfully. She took Bridge’s arm and guided her down a wide hall, leaving Cricket and me alone.

I smiled idiotically because this girl sucked all the mojo out of me.

“I-uh-I...” Smooth.

Cricket’s eyes widened in disbelief, probably because I couldn’t string a sentence together. She walked the direction Ellie and Bridge had gone.

“Come, boy!” she said, snapping her fingers. I jumped at the order, scrambling to her side as quickly as possible. The large mixed German shepherd fell into stride next to her. She bit her full lower lip to keep from smiling. I nearly facepalmed myself but held back. Now you have restraint? Charming.

“August said you row?” she asked. Her voice spilled over me like warm syrup. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the drugging sensation, then realized she’d asked me a question.

“Yeah,” I answered belatedly. Good. A short answer, but it’s better than mouth diarrhea. “I row...a-uh-boat...with-uh-my teammates.” Superb! Just-uh-superb.

“Do you use an oar?” she teased, biting her lower lip again. I found myself fantasizing I was the one that bit that lower lip. Her mouth distracted me. Answer her!

“Yes, smart ass, I use an oar,” I flirted, grinning from ear to ear because I couldn’t help it.

She smiled back, making me want to worship at her feet. Stick a fork in me!

“This is Useless Eugene,” she said, patting the side of her dog’s neck. “But I just call him Eugie.”

“Where’d he get a name like that?”

“When he was puppy, he took a liking to me and would only follow me around. We couldn’t get him to work unless I was there, and I was in school then. They’d take him out into the field, but he’d just come running back to the house looking for me. My pa called him a Useless Eugene and it stuck.”

“How old is he?”

“Thirteen.”

I looked down at the old boy and noticed a little hitch in his step. I could tell his bones were aching.

We walked into a large dining area with a long wood table and long benches instead of chairs that could probably sit at least thirty. The ceiling was lower in this room, making it feel more intimate. Along the center of the table laid a banquet. Platters full of chicken fried steak, fried chicken, actual piles of grilled steak and biscuits. There were bowls full of mashed potatoes, creamed corn and green beans with bacon. These people’s cholesterol must be through the roof, I thought, but looked around at the few already seated. There wasn’t a single overweight person there.

“If you worked twelve hours a day, burned approximately three thousand calories in those twelve hours with the sheer labor involved, you’d need dinners like this,” Cricket said with a smirk.

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