Her Secret Texas Valentine. Helen Lacey

I was twelve. My father worked there for a long time.”

      “And when he died you took over his job?” she asked.

      Jake shrugged. “Someone had to fill his boots. So, Valene, why are you single?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject.

      “I’m high maintenance,” she said and grinned. “Scared?”

      “Not at all,” he replied, watching the way her mouth curled at the edges and thinking how sexy it was. It had been a long time since he’d been attracted to someone. But she was funny and flirtatious, and he was discovering that he enjoyed her company. “But I’m not sure I believe you.”

      She shrugged. “I work long hours, and that doesn’t leave me a lot of time for socializing. But lately...”

      Her words trailed off and he raised both brows questioningly. “Lately?”

      “Both my sisters and one of my brothers have recently gotten married, and another brother got engaged,” she explained and sighed. “I feel left out, I guess, as if romance and love have passed me by.”

      “And is that what you want?” he queried. “Romance and love?”

      She shrugged again. “Doesn’t everyone?” She turned back and then made a face. “To be honest, I’d settle for someone to share a pizza, watch a movie and snuggle with.”

      Jake smiled, trying to recall the last time he’d snuggled with anyone. His ex-wife, Patrice, hadn’t exactly been the snuggling type. But Valene Fortunado, with her lovely hair, soft brown eyes and subtle curves, made him think that it was time he got back to really living and reconnecting with the world.

      “What kind of movies do you like?” he asked and finished his coffee.

      She chuckled. “Ah...actually, I like a little zombie action.”

      Jake laughed. “No chick flicks?”

      She shook her head. “Not really. Just zombies and fright-night kinds of films.”

      Jake winced. “Then I guess we’re not going to do that pizza and a movie thing,” he said, smiling as he shrugged. “Pity.”

      Her lips curled. “You don’t like scary movies?”

      “I don’t like clowns,” he admitted. “And one always seems to turn up in that kind of movie.”

      She laughed again, so softly, so delightfully, that Jake’s belly rolled over.

      “You’re scared of clowns?”

      “Not scared,” he corrected quickly. “I just don’t like them all that much.”

      “Tough guy like you,” she shot back, still chuckling. “In the movies, cowboys aren’t afraid of anything.”

      “I’m not afraid,” he reiterated, enjoying her teasing. “Just...cautious. It’s those big feet and red noses...they’re kinda freaky.”

      She laughed again. “Well, if we ever go on a date to a carnival or circus, I promise to protect you from the clowns terrorizing the midway.”

      Jake stared at her, relaxed back in the booth seat and spoke. “Would you like to?”

      Her head tilted fractionally. “Would I like to what?”

      “Go on a date?”

      * * *

      Valene’s heart was beating like a jackhammer. Jake Brockton was utterly gorgeous. His eyes were clear blue, his face perfectly angled and proportioned, his blond hair the kind that begged for fingers to thread through it. And the rest of him was to-die-for hot. His shoulders were broad, his arms well muscled, and she was certain the rest of him would hold up to her and every other woman on the planet’s scrutiny. She couldn’t recall ever seeing a man fill out a chambray shirt the way he did. And he had nice hands—strong looking, with long blunt fingers, neat nails and a few calluses that signified hard work. Yes, Jake Brockton was about as masculine and attractive a man as she’d ever met.

      Plus, he seemed to like her.

      Unfortunately, the good-looking cowboy didn’t tick any of her boxes.

      No career. No college education. And probably no money. She couldn’t be certain, but surely ranch hands weren’t paid extravagant salaries. She was disappointed through to her core.

      But what harm could a single date do?

      It wasn’t a marriage proposal. Or a lifelong commitment. And she didn’t have anyone else knocking on her door asking for her time and attention. She thought about it, looking at his handsome face again. And decided she’d live a little.

      “Sure,” she said as casually as she could manage. “Why not.”

      “Friday night?”

      She nodded. “Where?”

      He named a small Italian restaurant a few streets away. “Shall I pick you up?”

      “I’ll meet you there,” she replied. “Um...that’s a popular place. I’m not sure we could get a reservation this late. Perhaps somewhere else would be easier.”

      He looked amused by her caution. “I’ll text you a time once I make a reservation.”

      She wasn’t convinced he’d get a table, but she agreed. “Ah...great.”

      “Would you like more coffee?”

      She smiled a little. The man certainly wasn’t short on manners, and she realized he was an intriguing mix of rough and smooth. There was no denying his earthy roots. His clothes were clean and tidy, but the closer she looked, the more she noticed how the shirt was frayed a little around the cuffs, and how the Stetson sitting on the seat beside him was clearly well used. And despite the air of civility oozing from him, there was nothing urban about Jake Brockton. He was country through and through. Not what she wanted. Not anything like what she wanted. Except...his blue eyes were unbelievably mesmerizing. And his clean-shaven jaw made her fingertips itch with the urge to trace a pattern along his cheek and chin.

      Awareness and attraction mingled through her blood and she managed a tight smile, conscious that he was watching her intently. She tried to recall the last time she’d been as interested in a man, and the lingering memory of her first real boyfriend flittered along the edges of her mind. But Diego hadn’t hung around. And it turned out he was only ambitious and interested in her family’s money and connections rather than her. He wanted a career in real estate and thought she was his meal ticket, and he showed little shame in making it clear he deserved it after putting up with being her boyfriend for a year. After that, a little older and wiser, she’d dated Hugh. He was handsome and polite and from a nice family—his father was a friend of her father’s, and they’d been set up with the expectation that they would be perfect for one another. Yes, Hugh was perfect—he had perfect looks and manners and a career in the finance sector, and for five months she’d been convinced they would have a predictable happily-ever-after. But there was very little spark between them. Actually, no spark. Zilch. So it was an easy decision to end things between them. He was disappointed. She was wife material, he said. She shouldn’t have high expectations. After that, she’d begun to believe that maybe the spark thing was a myth. But then, over the course of the past year, both her sisters and two of her brothers had fallen madly in love and it got Val thinking that maybe that big love really did exist.

      “Why are you single, Jake?” she asked bluntly.

      “I’ve been too busy,” he said vaguely.

      She gave him a disbelieving look. “Really?”

      “That’s the truth, but I guess I’m still looking for my perfect match.”

      She chuckled. “Do you think there’s such a thing?”

      He shrugged lightly. “I’d like to think so. I’m not so sure anymore.”

      “Do