Redeemed by the Cowgirl (Mills & Boon Desire) by Silver James

Author:Silver James [James, Silver]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781474060875
Publisher: HarperCollins UK
Published: 2017-02-10T16:00:00+00:00

Twelve

As the Barron patriarch stormed toward their table, Bridger leaned close to Cash and said, “Please tell me you pooper-scooped after the dog.”

Cash, without taking his eyes off his father, muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Was I supposed to?”

Roxie panicked. In a furious whisper, she hissed, “Please tell me he’s not coming over here to yell at me about Harley.”

In almost one voice Cash and Bridger said, “He’s not coming over here to yell at you about Harley.”

“Probably,” Cash added.

As if hearing his name was a siren’s call, the topic of conversation emerged from beneath the table just as Cyrus Barron arrived. Roxie had moments to grab her napkin and muzzle the beast before he could shake his head. He’d drained the bowl and streamers of slug slime decorated with drops of water trailed from his jowls. She fell out of her chair, napkin flapping, and managed to get one arm around the dog’s neck. Too bad she was a fraction of a second too late.

To her horror, the scene unfolded in slow motion like that Tom Hanks movie with the drooly dog. Harley twisted his head from side-to-side, ears and jowls flapping and drool flying. Roxie could almost hear her voice distorted by time slowing down as she dragged out the words, “Ooohhhh noooo.” Mr. Barron stepped backward, a look of total disgust on his face. She caught the brunt of the flying slime but a few strands splatted on Mr. Barron’s tailored—and probably massively expensive—slacks. She held up her napkin before realizing it was covered in dog goo.

Mr. Barron harrumphed and focused his attention on Cash. Roxie wasn’t sure that was a reprieve. “We have things to discuss. Come to my office.”

Cash motioned for the waitress, who was carrying a loaded tray, to approach. “After I eat.”

“Don’t make me come looking for you, boy.” Mr. Barron did an about-face and marched out of the restaurant.

Roxie peeked over the edge of the table. Cash was rubbing the center of his forehead with the heel of his palm. She could almost see the headache forming and figured she was probably the cause. She felt awful for creating all the drama. In a muffled voice, she said, “Sorry?”

She caught movement from the corner of her eye—Bridger getting out of his chair to help her up while the waitress waited for them both to get seated before serving their meals. She shook off his assistance, regaining her composure while she glared at her dog. He didn’t look contrite in the least. In fact, he looked pretty darn proud of himself.

The waitress placed two plates in front of Cash. One looked like steak tartare, and the other was a crusted filet served with grilled new potatoes and asparagus spears, drizzled with a creamy white sauce that might be hollandaise, but Roxie suspected it was nothing so “mundane.” Bridger also had beef—small medallions braised with a thick, dark roux containing mushrooms, green onions and... She leaned over to get a closer look.

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