The Suit Read Online Free PDF Page B

then?
    “Besides,” she continues. “You never know what could happen in three months.” She winks at me before popping her soda open.
    “If you’re implying we might hook up…you’re crazy.”
    “I guess we’ll see,” she laughs, and I roll my eyes.

 
     

     
     
    I feel like such an ass. I have no idea why I ever agreed to do this thing for Bud James. Okay, yes I do. Money. But it was more than that. Bud James helped me when there was no one else. When my folks died he’d paid off their property and put me through school. I swore to him I would pay him back. And I did. Or I was going to.
    Although he kept our farm from foreclosure and saved me the embarrassment of it, the farm was sold a few months later and Bud was reimbursed. Farm life wasn’t for me. Learning the struggle my parents went through just to hold on to it ruined it for me. I hated the land and the horses. I hated that it took my parents from me. I hated the idea of going back to it and turning into the same worn down old man my grandfather was after a life of slaving to it.
    So after the farm was sold, all that was left was the matter of reimbursing Bud for my hefty college loans, which seemed completely feasible with the money left over from the sale and once I landed a job. But Bud had other plans. He told me instead, he wanted me to help him write up a new will. Okay, I thought, easy enough. But I knew there had to be more. A will doesn’t repay a man who put you through law school.
    “Ninety days,” he’d said. “Come work on my farm for ninety days.”
    I would’ve rather worked twenty hour days playing associate bitch to some tight-ass attorney than go back to raising and training horses. But Bud insisted, and how could I argue? The man asked so little.
    I was also told, when I came to work on his land—hands off the granddaughter. “Don’t go thinking you can take advantage of my beautiful Edie bug, Johnny. This is business. Hands to yourself,” he’d warned me.
    “That will not be a problem,” I assured him. What grandfather doesn’t think his granddaughter is beautiful? I figured she probably had a face only a grandfather could love.
    Then…I saw her. When I met her at the bar, she was drunk and even that was adorable. That dark hair twisted up, exposing her long neck and creamy skin. Her amazing body; languid, graceful, proportional, and thin. But her eyes, damn the world, her eyes are so beautiful. Big brown ones with the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen.
    But it was the morning after that, when I showed up at her house and she answered the door in that fucking excuse of a T-shirt and those sexy-ass lace panties, that I cursed Bud’s name, may he rest in peace.
    “I mean it, son. My girl’s an innocent. Don’t be putting your fancy moves on her or I’ll kick your ass.” I had no doubt he would, too. Bud James was one of the nicest men I’d ever met, but I had heard stories from my grandfather, Pop Pop, about Bud kicking ass and taking names back in his heyday. While at war, to blow off steam, the soldiers would have their version of fight club. Apparently, Bud was quite the brawler.
    I left that meeting with him laughing. I had just been threatened by an eighty-something-year-old man because he was worried I’d make a move on his granddaughter. How funny.
    I’m a giant asshole.
    Why?
    Because from the moment I saw Edie James in her little T-shirt and panties, I’ve been fighting a hard on. What. The. Fuck? I feel like I was gravely misinformed by my client. Did he do this to mess with me? Oh, come spend three months working at my farm and don’t you dare look at my sexy-ass granddaughter.
    Bud was a very dear friend of my parents, he was in World War II with my grandfather and always checked in on us after Pop Pop passed away. My parents died in a boating accident when I was a junior in college. I didn’t know the farm was in trouble and that the very boat they died on was about to be sold as my parents