Название | The Cowboy Who Got Away |
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Автор произведения | Nancy Thompson Robards |
Жанр | Вестерны |
Серия | |
Издательство | Вестерны |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474060332 |
From homecoming crowns to wedding rings
Hunky bull rider Jude Campbell seems to have the world by the proverbial horns. But when the world champion returns to Celebration for his high school reunion, he’s confronted by the ghosts he’d worked so hard to forget. Not to mention the high school love who got away...
Bridezilla wrangler Juliette Lowell is as gorgeous and genuine as she was as Jude’s homecoming queen. And the spark between them burns as bright as ever. But Jules still smarts from Jude’s betrayal years before. And as successful as he seems, Jude’s struggling with the prospect of hanging up his spurs. But with his queen, Juliette, by his side, maybe this homecoming will take once and for all...
“How is it that we went all these years without talking, Jude?”
“You have no idea how many times I’ve asked myself that same question,” he said.
“Why didn’t you...try?” she said.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
The air stilled. Their words threatened to conjure the hurts of the past, and they tried to crowd between them.
“When the man who had asked you to give up everything and elope with him—to spend the rest of your life with him—shows up three months later engaged to someone else, it makes it a little hard to be the first one to reach out.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. That’s why I came to see you first thing when I got into town.”
“This was probably a bad idea.” She started to push to a sitting position, but with a strong arm, Jude pulled her down next to him.
“No, it’s not.”
And he kissed her.
* * *
Celebration, TX: Love is just a celebration away...
The Cowboy Who Got Away
Nancy Robards Thompson
National bestselling author NANCY ROBARDS THOMPSON holds a degree in journalism. She worked as a newspaper reporter until she realized reporting “just the facts” bored her silly. Now that she has much more content to report to her muse, Nancy loves writing women’s fiction and romance full-time. Critics have deemed her work “funny, smart and observant.” She resides in Florida with her husband and daughter. You can reach her at www.nancyrobardsthompson.com and Facebook.com/nancyrobardsthompsonbooks.
This book is dedicated to my brother, Jay, who has the best sense of humor of anyone I know. Love you, little brother!
Special thanks to Ryder Bliss for helping me name the antiques store in downtown Celebration.
Contents
“This is a disaster,” the bride-to-be wailed. “I don’t understand how you can be so calm when it’s all your fault, Juliette.”
Juliette Lowell bit the insides of her cheeks and resisted the urge to help Tabatha Jones, the bridezilla du jour, put her current crisis into perspective. Around the world, people less privileged faced life-and-death crises. The realization that the hand-dyed lavender pumps were two shades lighter than the bridesmaids’ dresses was certainly a disappointment, but it was not a disaster of meltdown proportions as the bride was making it out to be.
“You have to fix this.” Tabatha’s voice rose three octaves, pushing a tear out onto her cheekbone. It left a trail in her foundation as it meandered down her sullen face. “This is absolutely unacceptable. The wedding is a month away and I need to know how you are going to make this right.”
Standing in the middle of the Campbell Wedding Barn, the venue for the ceremony, Tabatha’s breath was quick and shallow as she glared at Juliette.
She seemed dangerously close to hyperventilating.
“Take a deep breath, Tabatha,” Juliette said. The minute the words left her lips, she knew they were a mistake.
“Don’t tell me how to breathe,” she said through gritted teeth. “Just fix this.”
All Juliette could do was shrug. Probably a good choice since every word she uttered seemed to be digging her deeper into trouble.
When Tabatha had noticed the discrepancy in color, she’d called Juliette, who’d suggested they meet at the wedding venue to view the shoes and dresses in the same light in which they’d be worn during the ceremony.
“Tabatha, they really don’t look bad,” Juliette said, holding a silk pump next to a dress in a ray of sunshine streaming through one of