aren’t seriously thinking of taking skydiving lessons, are you?”
She lets out a heavy sigh. “Apparently not. The place has an age restriction, and the girls and I exceed it. Just by a little, mind you. So don’t you go thinking that I’m ready to be put out to pasture with the old crows.”
A laugh erupts from deep in my chest. “I wouldn’t even think about it.”
“And if they didn’t have the age restriction”—she wags her finger under my nose—“you can guarantee the girls and I would’ve done it, no matter what my grandson said.”
“Even though you could end up breaking every single bone—or worse yet, die?”
“But at least I’d go out with a bang. Well, more likely a splat.” She claps her hands, the sound more like a loud slap than a splat.
“It doesn’t matter if you go out with a bang or a splat or any other way. Neither Austin nor Violet will appreciate you dying before you’re supposed to.”
“Ha! Maybe our maker has plans for me to go out in style. Have you even thought of that? And as for my grandson, he’s just too protective for his own good…or in this case, for my own good. I can see why he’s that way with his sister. But even then, he has to remember Violet’s a grown woman. A grown woman with a—” Her words come to an abrupt halt, and her mouth forms an O.
“With a what?”
She waves her hand, as if swatting a fly with the back of it, and shuffles toward the doorway. “Never mind that. Bert’s gift is collecting dust as we speak.”
I grab a cookie from the plate and follow her from the kitchen. She walks down the hallway with me trailing behind, chomping on the sweet treat.
My gaze flicks to the wall covered with photos. Violet’s photos. The photos she took, not the ones she’s in. They’re action shots taken a few years ago, just before the accident that ended my rodeo career. I’m riding Thor as he gallops toward the calf I’m about to lasso.
Pretending I don’t notice the photo, I enter the guest room. I miss competing almost as much as I miss Violet. It’s hard seeing those photos without feeling like regret has kicked me in the nuts. With spurs on.
The same piles of unopened boxes that have been here since Grandma Meg moved into the cottage five years ago still crowd the room. There’s also a twin bed with floral bedding and a few antique pieces from the old ranch house.
Grinning her mother-bear smile, she points to a medium-sized cardboard box on the floor. “It’s in there.”
I kneel, my bad knee telling me to go to hell. Nothing new there. It’s been that way since the accident. It doesn’t always act up, but after a hard day of work, it’s as grumpy as a bull in a hailstorm.
I place the sweater on the floor, open the flaps, and peer inside. The pain in my knee is instantly forgotten.
No.
Fucking.
Way.
“Is this for real?” I remove the old Thor Marvel comics one by one from the box. Yes, I’m a Norse mythology freak—and these comics are responsible for that.
“Bert knew how much you loved them,” Grandma Meg says.
“But why wait until I’m thirty?”
“No idea. Even after being married to him for forty-six years, I didn’t always know what he was thinking. But I do know he was hoping that one day you’d share these comics with your own kids.”
My laugh comes out as a God-you’re-hilarious snort, and I straighten to my feet. “He definitely got that wrong. There won’t be any kids in my future.”
Her eyes go wide, crinkles forming across her brow. It’s the early warning signal that I’m in for a lecture: the sweet-grandma-guilt-you-up-the-ass lecture. “How can you say that?”
Has she asked her own grandson that question lately? He and I are both in the We’re-never-going-to-be-fathers club—new members always welcome.
“Because I’m not interested in settling down.”
“And why not? You’re young and virile. What woman wouldn’t want you?”
“I have a busy ranch to manage. I don’t have time for a girlfriend.” I kneel again next to the box of comics, set the sweater on top of it, and stand, hoisting it all in my arms. I head for the bedroom door.
“Why?” Grandma Meg says from behind me as I walk down the hallway. “Because it didn’t work out with She Who Shall Not Be Named?”
I can’t help but grin. It’s a very apt name. My ex-girlfriend and Harry Potter’s nemesis have a lot in common. Although in Katherine’s case, the last I heard, she’s married to some tech whiz in Silicon Valley.
Killer barks.
“See—even Killer thinks my single status is a good idea.” I pause at the front door.
The little white fluff ball barks again.
“No, what Killer said is, you should sing at the senior center during our next bingo night.”
“I don’t sing,” I deadpan.
Grandma Meg rolls her eyes like she’s a teenager instead of a senior citizen. “Remember, I’ve known you since you were in diapers, TJ. I know you sing. You have a beautiful singing voice.”
“That still doesn’t mean I sing.” At least not in public.
“That’s too bad. Violet always loved it when you sang.”
I ignore her—while battling the urge to look at Violet’s photo.
Too bad my heart and cock rule my brain at the most inopportune times.
Traitors.
COWBOY MOST WANTED is now available.
Also by Stina Lindenblatt
Romantic Comedy Series
By the Bay
Decidedly Off Limits
Best Friend Rule #1: never want the guy’s sister. Oops.
Decidedly with Baby
One-Night Stand Rule #1: always check the condom’s expiry date. Oops.
Decidedly with Love
Fake girlfriend Rule #1: never fall for your fake boyfriend. Oops.
Decidedly with Mistletoe
Kissing-under-the-mistletoe rule #1: never kiss your ex-fiancée. Oops.
Decidedly by Chance
Single Mom-To-Be Rule #1: watch out for those horny hormones. Oops.
Decidedly with Luck
Masquerade ball rule #1: what happens at the ball doesn’t always stay at the ball. Oops.
Decidedly with Wishes
Bucket List Rule #1: Be careful who finds your list. Oops.
Love Undercover
While You Were Spying
She needs a fake husband. He needs to protect his best friend...
Spying Under the Mistletoe
She’s a former mafia princess. He’s been hired to track down her family secret…
Copper Creek
Cowboy Most Wanted
A sexy cowboy. Some racy photos. And an accidental hook up—or three—with his best friend’s sister.
Once Upon a Cowboy
Cinderella's fairy godmother just turned hot. And male. Very, very male.
Fix Me Up, Cowboy
Nails aren't the only thing getting banged in this opposites attract romantic comedy.
Contemporary Romance Series
Pushing Limits
This One Moment
Two former best friends secretly in love with each other. The night that tore them apart. And the tragic event that will bring them together—and test their love for one another.
My Song For You
Bad-boy rocker Jared Leigh is about to meet the biggest challenge of his life…
I Need You Tonight
His secret is a link to a past she would rather forget…
More contemporary romances coming 2022
Acknowledgments
Thank you to the readers of the By the Bay series. It’s your love of these characters that encouraged me to write Eli and Nala’s story. A special thanks goes to Simone Choi and Piper Huguley for their help in writing about a Black heroine. Piper conducted a course on the psychology of Black characters. It was eye-opening when it came to the racism and stereotypes that are still rampant in our society. Simone read Decidedly with Wishes and gave me insights about Nala, especially when it came to her hair, both as a child and as an adult. It’s because of Simone that I spent hours on Pinterest, checking out all the pretty head wraps.
Part of the inspiration for Nala’s dresses for girls with special needs came from my experience with one of my sons, who was born thirteen weeks premature. For many years, he struggled with doing up his clothes because of his Developmental Coordination Dysfunction. The inspiration for Abby was my aunt. She was born with Down syndrome and died when I was seven years old. At the time, I hadn’t known anything about the genetic disorder. I just remembered visiting her in an institution when I was a kid. Even though she was fairly high functioning, she didn’t have the opportunities individuals with Down Syndrome have today. Thankfully, times have changed.
I want to thank my content editor, Bev, copy editor, Hope, and proofreaders, Jessica and Karen, for helping make this book sparkle. Naturally, I can’t forget rom-com author Brenda St John Brown, who always shares her brilliant wisdom when it comes to my romances. She’s the best.
Finally, I would like to thank my family—Ralph, Anton, Stefan, Anja, and Callie (our cat)—for their love and support.
About the Author
Born in Brighton England, Stina Lindenblatt has lived in a number of countries, including England, the U.S, Finland, and Canada. This would explain her mixed up accent. In addition to writing fiction, she loves photography, especially the close-up variety, and currently lives in Calgary, Canada, with her husband, three kids, and their cat.
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