Normally I wouldn’t mind doing the burgers and chicken for the “touchy feely” crowd, but lately, I’d grown tired of the whole charade, tired of pining for something that wasn’t ever gonna happen with a man who treated love like some kind of game, and sex, a party favor. Bulldog would never, ever change, and maybe it was time I accepted that.
I decided to take extra-long this afternoon getting supplies in town for the small horse ranch and groceries for my empty refrigerator. Melvin, my right-hand guy, would be able to manage just fine. There wasn’t anyone on the schedule to pick up horses today. He had my cell phone number in case of an emergency.
Yup, that sounded good to me. Bulldog would just have to cook his own damn burgers for a change, though he tended to burn things. That thought pleased me mightily as I finished my coffee, then headed out to the barn to say hello to my babies, and get to work.
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