The Swinging R Ranch: The Swinging R Ranch / Whose Line Is It Anyway?. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
“EVER CONSIDER WORKING for a living?”
The voice seemed to echo down a long tunnel. Max Bennett buried his head deeper under his pillow. It was practically the middle of the night. He was alone. Had to be a dream.
At a slight scraping sound, he peeked through one eye. Light flooded the room. Someone had opened the drapes.
He cursed into the pillow and closed his eye again. He’d thought he was alone. Had what’s-her-name from last night come home with him? You’d think he’d remember that.
“Come on, you bum. Rise and shine.”
Max let out a sigh of relief. It was only Taylor’s voice. Rolling over, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. His vision blurred and he had to squint. Groaning, he let his head drop back to the pillow. “For God’s sake, it’s only noon.”
“So, you can waste just half the day for a change.” She tugged at the covers he was trying to pull over his head and they landed bunched at his waist. “Did I tell you Hastings submitted his resignation? My firm will need a good contract lawyer.”
All Max had on was a pair of black silk boxers but that wouldn’t faze Taylor so there was no chance of embarrassing her into leaving. She’d been his best friend since their first year in law school. Although they’d dated once, they decided they made better friends. Taylor was ambitious, dedicated, serious. Everything he wasn’t. Of course she didn’t have three generations of blue-blooded Bennetts paying her tab.
“Very funny,” he mumbled and tried to get comfortable again.
“I wasn’t being funny. I’m dead serious.”
Oh, man. Serious was even worse. He hated when she got serious. When any woman did.
“If you came all the way over here to offer me a job, then you just wasted half your day,” he said, and she gave him a disappointed look. “Your time would be better spent finding a way to break into my trust fund.”
He squinted at the top of the nightstand again. His gold watch sat next to an engraved lighter he didn’t recognize. Where the hell was the aspirin?
“If you weren’t so damn lazy you’d have read the will and already figured out that’s impossible. Your grandmother was very specific about your money being dispensed in five-year increments.” Sighing, she reached behind the lamp and produced a small bottle of aspirin. “Why did you bother going to Harvard? You don’t need a law degree to be a vagrant.”
He didn’t even flinch. “Get me some water, huh?”
She stayed put and held up an envelope. “You should have told me about this.”
He stared at the unfamiliar envelope. “I’ve got the Aspen ski trip coming up, then the baccarat tournament in Monte Carlo. I need some serious cash. So unless that pertains to me getting at my trust fund early, I’m not interested.”
Shaking two white tablets out of the bottle into his palm, he contemplated trying to down them without water. A nasty thought. But so was rolling out of bed and trudging all the way across his room to the bathroom.
“You’ve inherited a ranch.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” He sank back against the pillows. “I’ll give you a hundred bucks to get me some water.”
“Did you know it’s located in Nevada?”
“Yeah, I even know that’s a state. I checked.”
“Hope you didn’t strain yourself,” she said as she walked toward the bathroom. She returned with a crystal goblet of water and handed it to him. “This is only because I want you alert and concentrating. Now, who in the world is this Lily McIntyre who left you the ranch? Surely not one of the Bennetts. I doubt they’ve ventured west of Boston. Too uncivilized for them.”
He wasn’t offended by her remark. It was true. “Lily’s my great-aunt on my mother’s side.”
“Have I met her?”
“Nope. Neither have I.”
Taylor frowned. “I always thought you had a pretty close family.”
“Ah, but we like to leave the skeletons in the closet.”
Curiosity sparkled in her eyes as she sat at the edge of his bed. “I can’t wait to hear this.”
He grinned, then grimaced. His head still hurt like hell. “Okay, I confess…I don’t know anything about Aunt Lily. But she’s gotta be the family skeleton because everyone has suddenly developed acute hearing and speech losses. Then there’s the fact she was stuck out on some small ranch in the desert.”
“Think again. This ‘small’ ranch sits on over three hundred acres.”
Max sat up, alert suddenly. “You think it’s income producing?”
“Don’t get too excited. Nevada is still the desert.” She frowned and shook her head. “There’s something strange about this letter. Did you even bother to read it?”
“Yeah, most of it.” Taylor could be so damn annoying at times. Who wouldn’t have been interested in an inheritance? Even if it was a ranch. Cash would be better, especially when he had three more years before he’d be solvent again. “But it doesn’t make sense. A ranch is supposed to have cows and horses and chickens…stuff like that, right?”
She shrugged. “That’s what I thought. I don’t know about chickens though. Aren’t they raised on farms with pigs?”
One side of Max’s mouth lifted in wry amusement. They’d both lived their entire lives in Boston, he on Beacon Hill, Taylor in Roxburry.
She frowned thoughtfully as her gaze scanned the letter. “It’s near a town called Bingo. All that acreage should be worth something.”
He snorted. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
Her cell phone rang. “So you’re just going to roll over and play dead?”
Max smiled. “No, I’m going to let you look into it for me.”
She glanced up before taking the call. “God, you’re so predictable.”
He was about to make a crack when she answered the phone, her tone crisp and businesslike. If he knew Taylor, he wouldn’t be getting rid of her soon, so he thought about hopping into the shower. And then he heard her mention Nevada.
He shook his head with a half smile. Of course she was already on the case. Probably had had her calls forwarded. She was efficient, if nothing else.
“Isn’t there anyone besides Mr. Southby who can help me regarding a letter he sent out on the fifth?” she asked into the receiver. “When do you expect him?”
After a brief pause, she said, “It’s the middle of the week. He can’t just go fishing and not say what day he’ll be back.” Taylor’s expression tightened. “That’s not good enough. I need someone to help me now.”
Max checked a grin. It was really too bad about Taylor and him. There was so much to like about her. Yet the lack of chemistry was the least of their problems. As an attorney she could be a pit bull, which was good. But as a life partner, he needed someone who wasn’t so ambitious, someone more fun-loving and adventurous, like himself. And if she had her own trust fund, all the better.
“Yes, regarding the Swinging R Ranch. I’m Mr. Bennett’s attorney, and we’re somewhat confused about the lack of inventory outlined in Mr. Southby’s letter, or maybe livestock is a better word. Anyway—”
Her sudden silence drew his wary attention. He looked up at her stunned face.
“Would you please repeat that?” Color slowly tinted her cheeks. She visibly swallowed. “I see.” Then she cleared her throat, and he could tell she wanted to laugh. “I’ll be sure and tell him.