Read Online Sweet Texas Fire by Nicole Flockton - Free Book Online
Authors: Nicole Flockton
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Cooper didn’t hold stock in owning a lot of useless possessions. If it couldn’t be used or worn, then it wasn’t worth owning.
Oil Slick head-butted his hand. Without thinking, Gage scooped the little cat up and leaned back in his chair. It was clear the kitten was happy by the way she purred against his chest. Oil Slick had everything she needed: food, drink, the middle of his bed.
Making sure he didn’t disturb the cat, he leaned forward and picked up the key. He’d looked through more images on the Internet the previous night to see if he could find something similar. He came up blank. It only reinforced his assumption the key belonged to a custom-made lock.
Only problem was, he couldn’t recall ever seeing anything in his father’s house that would fit the key. Although he hadn’t been into the house for a few years, so Dad could’ve purchased the item the key belonged to and he hadn’t known about it. Perhaps he should take another visit to Sweet Ridge and bug Gavin to let him check out the attic. Maybe the key belonged to something hidden up there.
“So, what do you think Dad means, Oil Slick?” he asked the kitten as he rubbed her ears. “If I find the object the key belongs to, do you think it means I’ll find happiness?”
What he would probably need was admission into the psych ward at the local hospital if anyone found him talking to a cat.
His e-mail pinged, signaling incoming messages. He watched the screen as at least ten e-mails loaded up, but one in particular stood out—both by the person sending it and the subject line it contained. He tried not to get his hopes up just because the subject line read
Sweet Ridge Land
and the sender was Charlotte. Why was she e-mailing him on a Saturday morning? Maybe she was visiting Sweet Ridge again and had some questions about the land. It certainly wasn’t because she’d had a change of heart and now wanted to sell it to him.
He clicked it open.
Hi, Gage,
I know we didn’t part on the best of terms last weekend, but I was hoping, if you weren’t too busy, that we might be able to meet for a coffee or maybe a walk in the park. I have something I need to discuss with you.
My cell is 555-325-2109.
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Regards,
Charlotte
Okay, this wasn’t what he expected, but he certainly wasn’t going to let his pride stop him from finding out what she wanted.
“Well, what do you know,” he said to Oil Slick. “Our luck could be changing.”
He gave the cat a quick pat on the head and then picked up his cell to dial Charlotte’s number.
It rang for a while, and he expected it to go to voice mail when the call connected.
“Hello, Charlotte speaking.”
His body perked to life hearing her breathless tone in his ear. “Hi, it’s Gage. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Oh, hey, Gage, no, I was just on the treadmill when you called. Sorry it took me a while to pick up.”
He wanted to ask her what she was wearing. He could picture her dressed in spandex, a crop top and those tight little shorts. Her long legs running rhythmically on the treadmill. Those same legs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her. He needed to go get laid if every time he spoke to Charlotte, he had fantasies about sleeping with her. God, she wasn’t even really his type. He didn’t go for redheads.
“Hello, are you there?”
He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. “Yeah, I’m here. Ahh, listen, I got your e-mail.”
“Great, so does that mean you’re free to meet?”
“Yeah, I am. Where exactly do you live?”
“I’ve got a place down in the Galleria District.”
“Galleria District. Right.”
“Is that a problem?”
Her accent made the question come out all prim and proper. “No, in fact, it’s quite convenient. I live in the Galleria area, too.”
“Oh, well, okay. That’s handy.”
“How about we meet at the Waterwall?”
“What time were you thinking?”
He glanced at the time on his
Oil Slick head-butted his hand. Without thinking, Gage scooped the little cat up and leaned back in his chair. It was clear the kitten was happy by the way she purred against his chest. Oil Slick had everything she needed: food, drink, the middle of his bed.
Making sure he didn’t disturb the cat, he leaned forward and picked up the key. He’d looked through more images on the Internet the previous night to see if he could find something similar. He came up blank. It only reinforced his assumption the key belonged to a custom-made lock.
Only problem was, he couldn’t recall ever seeing anything in his father’s house that would fit the key. Although he hadn’t been into the house for a few years, so Dad could’ve purchased the item the key belonged to and he hadn’t known about it. Perhaps he should take another visit to Sweet Ridge and bug Gavin to let him check out the attic. Maybe the key belonged to something hidden up there.
“So, what do you think Dad means, Oil Slick?” he asked the kitten as he rubbed her ears. “If I find the object the key belongs to, do you think it means I’ll find happiness?”
What he would probably need was admission into the psych ward at the local hospital if anyone found him talking to a cat.
His e-mail pinged, signaling incoming messages. He watched the screen as at least ten e-mails loaded up, but one in particular stood out—both by the person sending it and the subject line it contained. He tried not to get his hopes up just because the subject line read
Sweet Ridge Land
and the sender was Charlotte. Why was she e-mailing him on a Saturday morning? Maybe she was visiting Sweet Ridge again and had some questions about the land. It certainly wasn’t because she’d had a change of heart and now wanted to sell it to him.
He clicked it open.
Hi, Gage,
I know we didn’t part on the best of terms last weekend, but I was hoping, if you weren’t too busy, that we might be able to meet for a coffee or maybe a walk in the park. I have something I need to discuss with you.
My cell is 555-325-2109.
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Regards,
Charlotte
Okay, this wasn’t what he expected, but he certainly wasn’t going to let his pride stop him from finding out what she wanted.
“Well, what do you know,” he said to Oil Slick. “Our luck could be changing.”
He gave the cat a quick pat on the head and then picked up his cell to dial Charlotte’s number.
It rang for a while, and he expected it to go to voice mail when the call connected.
“Hello, Charlotte speaking.”
His body perked to life hearing her breathless tone in his ear. “Hi, it’s Gage. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Oh, hey, Gage, no, I was just on the treadmill when you called. Sorry it took me a while to pick up.”
He wanted to ask her what she was wearing. He could picture her dressed in spandex, a crop top and those tight little shorts. Her long legs running rhythmically on the treadmill. Those same legs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her. He needed to go get laid if every time he spoke to Charlotte, he had fantasies about sleeping with her. God, she wasn’t even really his type. He didn’t go for redheads.
“Hello, are you there?”
He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. “Yeah, I’m here. Ahh, listen, I got your e-mail.”
“Great, so does that mean you’re free to meet?”
“Yeah, I am. Where exactly do you live?”
“I’ve got a place down in the Galleria District.”
“Galleria District. Right.”
“Is that a problem?”
Her accent made the question come out all prim and proper. “No, in fact, it’s quite convenient. I live in the Galleria area, too.”
“Oh, well, okay. That’s handy.”
“How about we meet at the Waterwall?”
“What time were you thinking?”
He glanced at the time on his
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