Page 13 of Pay Dirt

He pulled away, and I climbed off his lap, fanning myself. “It’s hot in Texas.”

“I think you just made it ten times warmer,” Nathan said, clearing his throat.

“Okay, we can pull off chemistry. So what did you want to tell me?”

“My family is as unusual as yours.”

“Ooooh,” I cooed. “Do they have abilities too?”

He chuckled. “Not quite, but you’ll see.”

The conversation ended as the limo pulled beneath a metal arch that read Murray Ranch. The road was bumpy, but I stared out the window. Where I’d expected farm animals and barns, there was a gated area with men working around large metallic equipment plunging down into the earth, thrusting like a man thrusting his hips in the heat of passion.

“What in the world?”

“That’s an oil rig,” Nathan said as the car pulled up to the three-story house with three beat-up pickup trucks parked outside. “I said my momma was killed at the bank, not that she worked there.”

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