Falling For The Rebel Cowboy. Allison B. Collins
Читать онлайн.| Название | Falling For The Rebel Cowboy |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Allison B. Collins |
| Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
| Серия | Cowboys to Grooms |
| Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 9781474084765 |
Thank you to my wonderful editor, Johanna Raisanen, for believing in me and my cowboy heroes. It’s such a pleasure working with you!
I reached out to my Facebook friends to help name Wyatt’s horse. I loved the suggestion of “Deacon” given by Dan Hill. Thanks, Uncle Dan! Deacon is exactly what Wyatt would have named his horse.
As always, thank you to my husband for being my rock. You are the love of my life.
And to my readers, thank you for being a part of my journey as an author!
This book is dedicated to Angela Ackerman and Rebecca Puglisi, for giving authors everywhere—especially me!—the game-changing resources to delve deep into our characters and make them memorable. You know I’m your #1 fan!
Contents
Wyatt Sullivan stared at the beauty on the grass, glistening in the Montana sun. He knew each part of her intimately—he’d had his hands on every inch of her more times than he could count. With some pampering and TLC, he would get her purring beneath him again. After all, they didn’t make tractors like this nowadays.
The sound of metal hitting metal clanged behind him, echoing like iron bars slamming shut at lights-out. The old fear roared back and his hands fisted, ready to defend. Chills sharp as barbed wire gripped his neck and galloped down his spine. He tilted his head up to the sky and blew out a calming breath, reminding himself he was safe, back home again.
He’d been a headstrong seventeen-year-old when he’d left, chucked it all, headed out on his own. But after ten years he was back, trying to find his place on the ranch with his dad and four brothers. It had taken him a long time to figure out that this ranch was home. Despite the struggles to fit back in, this was where he belonged.
Click click click echoed on the concrete path from the lodge. A woman crossed into his line of sight, her voice floating to him on a gust of wind. He’d always had a thing for blondes, and this one was real pretty. A pale pink jacket molded itself to her sleek body, and a matching skirt ended midthigh, revealing legs he could explore for days. Then her sharp words became clear.
“I was a fool to have married you. I should have listened to my father from the beginning. But we’re divorced, and I’m stronger and smarter now. I won’t let you treat our son like he doesn’t matter.”
The path curved, but she must have been distracted with her phone call, because she stepped off the concrete, still giving her ex a tongue-lashing. She was heading for the dirt of the soon-to-be vegetable garden. The one currently filled with mud from the heavy rain last night.
He