As I mentioned on Facebook, I’m working on a new short story that’ll be out around Valentine’s. It’ll feature new characters and a new whole setting – Montana. Yep. I’ve been listening to a lot of country music lately.
Anyhoo, here’s a snippet. I hope you enjoy!
“I don’t know how much time Dad has left but I reckon it’s not very much,” Luke sniffed. “Dad went through all the legal stuff a while back and only let me and Larry know about it after the fact. I don’t know even know what’s in what.”
There went the angry feelings again. Foster could’ve given Hunter all the legal paperwork or recommend someone from the firm to handle it without his input. A sharp reminder he wasn’t even close to being a favorite son. “A will?”
“Will, trust, estate issues, the family business….all that was handled by a gaggle of lawyers.” Luke revealed.
“I want to see everything before it gets filed into probate.” Hunter replied. “I’m sure there are copies of everything somewhere.”
“Well, we need to get Larry’s input on this.” Luke replied. “Larry was dad’s right hand. Nothing even went to dad without Larry seeing it first.”
Hunter’s eyebrows quirked at the information. What was once his position was quickly replaced without a second thought. “Larry?”
“Larry,” Luke repeated. “Toughest SOB I’ve ever encountered. Could wrangle bulls, milk cows, and herd cattle like it was no one’s business. Took care of the farm and is the reason why it’s doing so well right now.”
Hunter considered the revelation. “If it’s doing so well, why did Dad want to sell it?”
“He didn’t,” Luke turned towards him, “but he knew you did.”
Hunter heard the bass in his younger brother’s voice and decided against a response. The only response – his fist to Luke’s face – wasn’t appropriate. At that time. “Where is this Larry person? I want to have a few words with him and see what he’s about.”
Luke smiled. “That’s the thing about Larry. Larry’s a…”
Hunter looked away and Luke turned behind him. A Black woman of average build and shiny long, ebony hair waltzed into the conference room. She dressed like an executive – a pinstriped suit, high heels, and a handful of silver bracelets on her wrist. Her light brown eyes sparkled, as if she was always thinking of something wicked and delicious.
She looked like a model, with her full lips and high cheekbones. Her hair – he didn’t want to make any assumptions about it – flowed down her back in numerous curls.
“Luke,” the woman’s voice was smoky and breathless. Hunter felt his cock twitch in response and took a deep breath to calm it down. She approached his brother and gave him a big hug, yet Hunter felt a simmering jealousy. Was Luke and this woman intimate? How did he pull someone like her?
“Larry,” Luke replied as he held her. “I’m glad you could make it.”
Larry? Hunter thought. That’s Larry?
“I don’t like going into the city, but I know this meant a lot for your father.” She pulled away and met eyes with Hunter. “I take it you’re Hunter Calhoun.”
Hunter thought he knew cowboys. They dressed the same. They talked the same. They walked the same. There was nothing fake or fancy about them. Sure, they knew how to clean it up when it was appropriate, but they never strayed away too far from cowboy hats and boots if they could help it.
This Larry – he had difficulty with the name – looked nothing remotely close to that. She was polished like she belonged in the law firm with him and Savior. There was nothing rough around the edges about her. He wasn’t too sure if she even knew any country songs.
He was sure, however, the shift in the air surrounding them. There was a small current of electricity followed by something he could only describe as flutters. Heat radiated between them between them and Hunter shook off the feelings before it became obvious.
“Yes, I am.” Hunter cleared his throat. “And you must be…”
“Larissa Belvedere.” She smiled at him. “But you can call me Larry.”