He stopped her at the top of the steps, giving her a quick kiss and earning an irritated mutter from West. He ignored his brother and smiled at Delilah. Thank you.
She frowned up at him. For what?
For reading my mind. For knowing what I need. For loving me. He kissed her again, not caring if he was giving his brother any ammunition after all. Screw it. He was with the woman he loved.
I do love you, she said with a smile, tugging on his arm. Now stop procrastinating and lets get inside.
Lane laughed and opened the screen door for Delilah.
His girl knew him far too well.
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An Excerpt from.
TORCH.
WHEN DID YOUR eyes get so green?
He turned to stare at her, stunned by her question. Stunned even more by the dreamy expression on her face as she stared at him like she wanted to . . . gobble him up? What did you just say? he asked carefully.
Your eyes. She waved a hand in their general direction and he couldnt help but let his gaze drop to her chest. She had a nice one and he was always trying to sneak a peek. Now he just blatantly stared. Theyre so green. Like your beer.
Jerking his gaze away from her t.i.ts, Tate grabbed the bottle and held it to his lips, taking a drink before he said, The beer isnt green, Blue Jay. But the bottle is.
You know what I mean. She waved her hand again, nearly smacking him in the jaw. Theyre very sparkly. When he looked at her like she was crazy, she clarified, Your eyes.
They are?
Oh yeah. She nodded, a giggle slipping past her lips. Sparkly and green and so very pretty.
His entire body went warm and his d.i.c.k twitched. Huh. Hed had women tell him he had nice eyes. His mother had always raved about his eyes when he was a kid, even going so far as to force him to wear green shirts to bring out the color in your eyes. This wasnt an unusual compliment.
No, what was unusual was his reaction to it. Maybe it was the way Wren watched him. Or the way she seemed to sway toward him as she spoke, like there was a magnetic force pulling them closer together. One she couldnt fight no matter how hard she tried.
Thank you, he said, his voice low as he contemplated her, skimming the length of her before his gaze returned to hers. You have very, very pretty eyes too.
Those very pretty eyes widened in surprise and she pressed her lips together, blinking rapidly. Seriously?
Tate nodded, wondering why shed doubt him. Then again, she would, what with the way they gave each other endless grief. Definitely. Hasnt anyone ever told you that before?
Not really. You certainly havent.
I just did, he reminded her, making her roll her eyes.
Ah, there was the Wren he knew.
She shrugged and turned toward the bar, grabbing her drink, disappointment written all over her face when she realized it was empty. I should probably go.
You wouldnt let me leave, he pointed out. So I think you should stay. Keep me company.
What are you doing here anyway?
That was a good question. Sitting at home on his first full day off in what felt like forever, hed been bored. Restless. So hed hopped in his SUV and drove around town, but soon got bored with that too. He didnt know what he wanted, what he was looking for, but the moment he entered the bar and saw the back of Wrens head, he knew it was her.
And his night got magically better. Just like that.
Bored, he answered truthfully. Thought Id stop by and grab a drink.
She gave him a look. Really? Dont tell me this is your deep dark secret. That you come hang out here on your nights off and drink yourself into oblivion.
Never. He polished off the beer and nodded at Russ, the old bartender who also happened to own the place. Bring the lady another one too, he told him.
Russ frowned. I dont think thats a good idea.
That earned another eye roll from Wren. Come on, Russ. Youre not my dad.
Thank G.o.d for that, child. Russ shook his head as he approached them. Shes already had three, he told Tate.
And Id like another, please. She hiccupped, bouncing on the stool and Tate couldnt help but think she looked kinda cute. And kinda inebriated. Come on, Russ. Dont be such a party p.o.o.per, she whined.
Ill take care of her, Tate said quietly, his words for Russ only. Make sure she gets home safe.
You sure about that? Ive known this girl since she was three and liked to eat dirt pies for dessert. The pointed look Russ sent him was loud and clear. Hed entrust Wren to Tates keeping but hed better keep his hands to himself.
Wren groaned and shook her head. Why would you go and say that? Her gaze met Tates and she tried her best to look sincere. I swear I never ate dirt.
The harrumph noise Russ made as he went to mix her a fresh drink said otherwise.
Your secrets safe with me, Seagull. Chuckling, Tate reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her soft skin. She sucked in an audible breath, her blue eyes going wide, her lips parting. They were pink. And damp. Her cheeks were rosy"hed bet money that was alcohol induced"and her gaze seemed to"again"gobble him up. Like she enjoyed his touch. Like she wanted more of it.
He had to be seeing things. Reading something into nothing. No way did Wren Gallagher want him.
Did she?.
About the Author.
USA Today bestselling author KAREN ERICKSON writes what she loves to read"s.e.xy contemporary romance. Published since 2006, shes a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband and three children. She also writes as New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Monica Murphy. You can find her at www.karenerickson.com.
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By Karen Erickson.
The Wildwood Series.
Ignite.
Smolder.
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Torch.
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CHANGE OF HEART.
by T.J. Kline.
MONTANA HEARTS: TRUE COUNTRY HERO.
by Darlene Panzera.
ONCE AND FOR ALL.
AN AMERICAN VALOR NOVEL.
by Cheryl Etchison.
An Excerpt from.
CHANGE OF HEART.
By T.J. Kline.
Bad luck has plagued Leah McCarran most of her life, until the tide turns and she lands her new dream job as a therapist at Heart Fire Ranch. But when her car breaks down and she finds herself stranded, the playboy who shows up to her rescue makes Leah wonder if her luck just went from bad to worse.
Leah McCarran couldnt believe her luck as she popped the hood of her cla.s.sic GTO and glanced behind her, down the deserted stretch of highway in the Northern California foothills. Steam poured from her radiator, and there wasnt a single car in sight.
She blew back a strand of her caramel-colored hair as the curl fell into her eye and caught on her mascaraed eyelashes. Even those felt like they were melting into solid clumps on her eyes. It was sweltering for mid-May, and, of course, her car decided to take a dump on the side of the highway today. She fanned herself with one hand as she looked down at the overheated engine. It probably wouldnt have been nearly this big a deal if her cell phone hadnt just taken a c.r.a.p, too. To top off her miserable day, shed spilled her iced coffee all over the d.a.m.n thing getting out of the car and likely destroyed it once and for all.
This wasnt the way shed hoped to start her new job or her new life at Heart Fire Ranch.
Walking back to the drivers side of the car, Leah had no clue what to do now. Luckily, her boss wasnt expecting her until this evening, and shed had the foresight, knowing her penchant for bad luck, to leave early. But until some Good Samaritan decided to drive by and stop for her, she was S.O.L. She kicked the tire as she walked by. As if trying to deny her even that small measure of satisfaction, the sole of her worn combat boot caught in the tread, nearly making her fall over.
Son of a"
Leah caught herself against the side of the car, willing the tears of frustration to subside, back into the vault where they belonged. That was one thing shed learned as a child: tears meant weakness.
And showing weakness was asking for more pain.
She bent over into the car, looking for something to mop up the sticky mess the coffee was making on the restored leather interior of her car. She reached for the denim shirt shed been wearing over her tank top before shed left Chowchilla this morning, before the air had turned from chilled to h.e.l.l-on-earth-hot.
s.h.i.t, she muttered. Trying to sop up coffee with denim was like trying to mop a floor with a broom: it did absolutely no good.
Hot d.a.m.n! That is the most incredible thing Ive seen all day.
The crunch of tires pulling off the asphalt of the highway was a welcome sound, but the awe she heard in the husky voice was enough to send a chill down her spine. Leah threw the shirt down onto the coffee-soaked floorboard. Standing up, she spun on the heel of her boot, her fists clenching at her sides as she tried to control the instinct to punch a man in the mouth.
Excuse me? Do you really have so little cla.s.s?
Oh, s.h.i.t! No, thats not . . . She watched as the man unfolded himself from a late model Challenger and shut the door, jogging across the empty two-lane highway to her side. Im sorry, I meant the car.
Leah crossed her arms under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and arched a single, disbelieving brow. Sure, you did.
A blush flooded his dark caramel skin. I swear I meant the car. Not that youre not . . . I mean . . . c.r.a.p. He cursed again. Let me try this again. Do you need some help?
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An Excerpt from.
MONTANA HEARTS: TRUE COUNTRY HERO.
By Darlene Panzera.
For Jace Aldridge, the chase is half the fun. The famous rodeo rider has spent most of life chasing down steers and championship rodeo belts, but after an accident in the arena, his career is put on temporary hold. When hes offered a chance to stay at Collins Country Cabins, Jace jumps at the opportunity to spend more time with the beautiful but wary Delaney Collins.
The cowboy winked at her. Delaney Collins lowered her camera lens and glanced around twice to make sure, but no one else behind the roping chute was looking his direction. Heat flooded her cheeks as he followed up the wink with a grin, and a mult.i.tude of wary warnings sounded off in her heart. The last thing shed wanted was to catch the rodeo circuit stars interest. She pretended to adjust the settings, then raised the camera to her eye once again, determined to fulfill her duty and take the required photos of the handsome dark-haired devil.
Except he wouldnt stand still. He climbed off his buckskin horse, handed the reins to a nearby gatekeeper, gave a young kid in the stands a high five, and then walked straight toward her.
Delaney tightened her hold on the camera, wishing she could stay hidden behind the lens, and considered several different ways to slip away unnoticed. But she knew she couldnt avoid him forever. Not when it was her job to shadow the guy and capture the highlights from his steer-wrestling runs. Maybe he only wanted to check in to make sure she was getting the right shots?
Most cowboys like Jace Aldridge had large egos to match their championship-sized belt buckles, one reason she usually avoided these events and preferred capturing images of plants and animals. But when the lead photographer for True Montana Magazine called in sick before the event and they needed a fill-in, Delaney had been both honored and excited to accept the position. Perhaps after the magazine viewed her work, theyd hire her for more photo ops. Then she wouldnt have to rely solely on the profits from her share of her familys guest ranch to support herself.
She swallowed hard as the stocky, dark-haired figure, whose image continuously graced the cover of every western periodical, smiled, his eyes on her"yes, definitely her"as he drew near.
He stretched out his hand. Jace Aldridge.
She stared at his chapped knuckles. Beside her, Sammy Jo gave her arm a discreet nudge, urging her to accept his handshake. After all, it would be impolite to refuse. Even if, in addition to riding rodeo, he was a hunter, an adversary of the animals she and her wildlife rescue group regularly sought to save.