Read Online Somethin' Dirty: Country Fever, Book 4 by Em Petrova - Free Book Online
Authors: Em Petrova
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always had virgin margaritas. After spending the day reliving Griffin’s lips on her nipple, Nola could use a shot of tequila in hers.
Heat sliced through her.
Molly’s boot steps preceded her into the kitchen. Her sister appeared, all cowgirl smile and wide eyes, but Nola wasn’t falling for the deception. Under her sister’s innocent appearance was a hardcore interrogator.
She wasn’t disappointed.
“How’s the hunky cowboy daddy?” she drawled.
Nola leaned her elbows on the counter and propped up her chin. Marvelously sculpted and dotted with dirt and sweat after his chores . She’d yearned to lead him into the shower and soap him from head to toe.
“The cowboy daddy is holding it together.”
Molly inched nearer, and her mother straightened. “What do you mean?” her mom asked.
“Well, he’s a great dad. He had Lyric dressed and fed by the time I arrived. Then he took care of the ranch before taking his mother to a doctor’s appointment. She has cancer.”
Her mom’s eyebrows rose. “Poor woman.”
“Poor Cowboy Daddy,” Molly interjected. “That’s a lot of weight for a man to carry.”
“For anyone to carry.” Their mother adjusted Molly’s romantic notions.
“No wonder he needed you,” Molly said.
“Yeah, I wish I could do more. Right now Lyric takes some entertaining, but she sleeps a good portion of the day too. Griffin keeps the house tidy, so I feel as if I’m wandering around when I could be helping him.”
“In the barn?” Molly waggled her brows.
Nola rolled her eyes and went to retrieve ice to feed to the blender. “I can’t help but wonder what happened to the mother. I mean, what sort of woman gives up her baby?”
“Maybe it was a tragic accident and Griffin’s just waiting for the right woman—” Molly stopped at their mother’s pointed look.
Nola ignored her sister and shook her head. “There’s a story in his past, that’s for sure. And it’s hard not to admire a man willing to take on the responsibility of raising a child on his own.”
Both women nodded in agreement. While they mixed the margaritas they dropped the discussion. Nola and Molly set the table, and then their mother ran off to greet their daddy.
At dinner, Nola stole a peek at her father. He didn’t appear angry—just a little tired.
“How was the new girl?” Nola asked around a bite of chicken laden with sour cream, salsa and cheese.
“She’s catching on. And how is the nanny job?”
Nola smiled as the image of Lyric popped into her head. While Nola had fed her, Lyric’s eyes seemed to grow with every suck, until they took up her entire face. “It’s fine. Good pay for an easy job. The baby’s a dream.”
“Got you wrapped around her finger already?” Her father smiled for the first time since Nola quit, and she relaxed a little.
“Around her daddy’s finger, I’d say. You should see the way he has her outfitted. The nursery looks like a bubble gum factory exploded, and the kid has a wardrobe to be envious of.” Nola forked in two more mouthfuls of chicken before she realized everyone was staring at her and not eating.
“What?”
“Uh-oh,” Molly said with a grin. “Sounds as if this job might be more than a means of getting to Nashville. That can mean only one thing.”
Nola felt a flush creep over her throat and face. She set down her fork. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Did you scour the Internet for the latest in country music news today, Nola?” Molly asked.
“Well no. I didn’t have time. I was working.”
“Uh-huh.” Molly sucked on her straw, filling her cheeks with virgin margarita.
Irritation wove through Nola. “Why can’t we have alcoholic margaritas, Mom? We’re all adults.”
Her mother flicked her head toward the liquor cabinet. “Help yourself if it makes you feel better, but my guess is the lack of tequila isn’t what has your guitar out of tune.”
Molly leaned across the table. “I think it’s
Heat sliced through her.
Molly’s boot steps preceded her into the kitchen. Her sister appeared, all cowgirl smile and wide eyes, but Nola wasn’t falling for the deception. Under her sister’s innocent appearance was a hardcore interrogator.
She wasn’t disappointed.
“How’s the hunky cowboy daddy?” she drawled.
Nola leaned her elbows on the counter and propped up her chin. Marvelously sculpted and dotted with dirt and sweat after his chores . She’d yearned to lead him into the shower and soap him from head to toe.
“The cowboy daddy is holding it together.”
Molly inched nearer, and her mother straightened. “What do you mean?” her mom asked.
“Well, he’s a great dad. He had Lyric dressed and fed by the time I arrived. Then he took care of the ranch before taking his mother to a doctor’s appointment. She has cancer.”
Her mom’s eyebrows rose. “Poor woman.”
“Poor Cowboy Daddy,” Molly interjected. “That’s a lot of weight for a man to carry.”
“For anyone to carry.” Their mother adjusted Molly’s romantic notions.
“No wonder he needed you,” Molly said.
“Yeah, I wish I could do more. Right now Lyric takes some entertaining, but she sleeps a good portion of the day too. Griffin keeps the house tidy, so I feel as if I’m wandering around when I could be helping him.”
“In the barn?” Molly waggled her brows.
Nola rolled her eyes and went to retrieve ice to feed to the blender. “I can’t help but wonder what happened to the mother. I mean, what sort of woman gives up her baby?”
“Maybe it was a tragic accident and Griffin’s just waiting for the right woman—” Molly stopped at their mother’s pointed look.
Nola ignored her sister and shook her head. “There’s a story in his past, that’s for sure. And it’s hard not to admire a man willing to take on the responsibility of raising a child on his own.”
Both women nodded in agreement. While they mixed the margaritas they dropped the discussion. Nola and Molly set the table, and then their mother ran off to greet their daddy.
At dinner, Nola stole a peek at her father. He didn’t appear angry—just a little tired.
“How was the new girl?” Nola asked around a bite of chicken laden with sour cream, salsa and cheese.
“She’s catching on. And how is the nanny job?”
Nola smiled as the image of Lyric popped into her head. While Nola had fed her, Lyric’s eyes seemed to grow with every suck, until they took up her entire face. “It’s fine. Good pay for an easy job. The baby’s a dream.”
“Got you wrapped around her finger already?” Her father smiled for the first time since Nola quit, and she relaxed a little.
“Around her daddy’s finger, I’d say. You should see the way he has her outfitted. The nursery looks like a bubble gum factory exploded, and the kid has a wardrobe to be envious of.” Nola forked in two more mouthfuls of chicken before she realized everyone was staring at her and not eating.
“What?”
“Uh-oh,” Molly said with a grin. “Sounds as if this job might be more than a means of getting to Nashville. That can mean only one thing.”
Nola felt a flush creep over her throat and face. She set down her fork. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Did you scour the Internet for the latest in country music news today, Nola?” Molly asked.
“Well no. I didn’t have time. I was working.”
“Uh-huh.” Molly sucked on her straw, filling her cheeks with virgin margarita.
Irritation wove through Nola. “Why can’t we have alcoholic margaritas, Mom? We’re all adults.”
Her mother flicked her head toward the liquor cabinet. “Help yourself if it makes you feel better, but my guess is the lack of tequila isn’t what has your guitar out of tune.”
Molly leaned across the table. “I think it’s
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