Page 157 of Lost Then Found
Miller smirks, already opening her car door. “Don’t worry, Booney. You’re pretty, but you’re not my type.”
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. “Oh yeah? What’s your type?”
She grins. “Billionaires. And men who do whatever I say.”
I laugh. “That tracks.”
She winks, slides into her car, and pulls out of the lot.
I shake my head, climbing into Lucille, my jaw tight as I try to wrap my head around everything we just uncovered.
Vaughn Hart.
I rub a hand over my face, staring out the windshield.
This just got a hell of a lot more complicated.
Chapter 17
LARK
“Okay, but, hear me out,” Hudson says, hands on his hips like he’s about to deliver the most profound argument of his life. “How do I know youactuallyknow what you’re doing?”
Boone sighs like he’s been personally insulted. “Kid, I was roping cattle before you were even a thought.”
Hudson doesn’t look convinced. “Yeah, but were you good at it?”
I snort, slap a hand over my mouth to muffle the laugh, but it’s too late.
Boone’s jaw drops, full dramatic betrayal. “Wow. You wound me, Hud.” He presses a hand to his chest like he’s been personally victimized. “Who do you think taught Ridge everything he knows?”
Hudson shrugs, deadpan. “Ridge.”
Boone glares. “You wanna walk home?”
Hudson grins. “No, I wanna learn from someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”
Boone points a finger at me. “This is your kid.Yourkid.”
I press my lips together to keep from laughing. “Yeah, and he’s got a point.”
Boone mutters something under his breath, gives the rope a quick flick—and before I can even blink, it snaps clean around the fence post like it’s second nature. He glances at Hudson, smug as hell. “Think you can topthat?”
Hudson squints at the post, then back at Boone. “Definitely.”
Boone grins, hands him the rope, stepping aside like he’s got all the time in the world. “Alright, cowboy. Let’s see it.”
I lean against the fence, arms crossed, watching them. Hudson’s got that laser focus, jaw set like he’s on a mission. Boone’s just standing back, calm and steady, correcting his grip when it slips, showing him the flick again without making a big deal out of it.
Hudson swings. Misses the post by a mile.
Boone just laughs under his breath. “We’ll keep working on that.”
Hudson scowls down at the rope like it personally betrayed him. “This one’s defective.”
Boone claps him on the back, still grinning. “Sure it is, bud. We’ll go with that.”
Boone texted me earlier—said Hudson might want some fresh air now that he’s feeling better and asked if we wanted to swing by the ranch for a bit.
