I'm beyond excited. Sugarwater Ranch is online everywhere.
Leave a comment along with your email by May 5th and you'll automatically be entered in my drawing for wonderful chocolate. What could be better than that?
Leave a comment along with your email by May 5th and you'll automatically be entered in my drawing for wonderful chocolate. What could be better than that?
Catherine
changed into her pajamas, her arms and legs so heavy she wasn’t sure she could
make it to the bed. Gator was curled into a ball on the bedside rug. She rubbed
the dog’s ears then climbed into bed and snuggled under the covers. At last,
she could sleep.
But as
she lay in the dark, her mind wouldn’t quit whirling. Having a stranger in her
house unsettled her. Even though she knew his name, she really didn’t know him.
She hadn’t seen Sean since she was twelve.
Her
feet hit the cold floorboards, and she padded across the room to her antique dresser.
Pushing and shoving, again and again, she moved the heavy piece of furniture
until it stood guard in front of her bedroom door. It wasn’t as good as a
deadbolt lock, but better than nothing. This way he couldn’t sneak up on her
while she slept. She doubted he was going to wake in the next twelve hours, but
a girl couldn’t be too careful.
She’d
lived by herself since she’d returned to Dalhart, so it never occurred to her
to get a lock for her bedroom door. Tomorrow she’d call Uncle Ray and have him
pick up a deadbolt at the hardware store. She’d be prepared for the next time,
if there was a next time.
As the
first pink rays of dawn lit the sky, Gator woke her from a deep sleep, whining
and pawing at her bedding. On a normal night, he stayed outside and had the run
of the yard. He was ready for his normal night.
With
Sean in the house, Catherine had kept the dog in her room as added protection,
but now he wanted out. She felt her way across the room, flipped the latch then
slid the window open. Gator hopped through into the large backyard and began to
explore his territory. After closing the window, she dropped back into bed. By
the time her eyelids had closed, she was asleep again.
Uncle
Ray owned the old farmhouse where she’d lived since she’d come back to Dalhart.
It was less than three miles from the bar and one of the perks of the job.
Living alone, Catherine was used to her house being silent unless she made
noise. She heard someone moving outside her bedroom door, and panic filled her
sleep-fogged brain.
Memories
of the night before flooded back. The man she’d brought home must be awake. She
heard mumbling and a small crash, followed by loud swearing. She pulled the
covers up to her chin and debated what to do. Did she want to leave the safety
of her room? If she waited long enough, maybe he’d go away. Then she remembered
his truck was still at the bar. He wasn’t going anywhere.
She
pulled on jeans, running shoes, and a thermal shirt. After pushing the dresser just
far enough to slip through, she turned the doorknob slowly so as not to make a
sound and inched open the door. The hall was empty, but the sound of water
running let her know someone was in the bathroom.
With her back pressed against the wall, she
was careful to be quiet as she crept along the hallway. Leaning forward, she
stuck her head around the corner of the door.
Quiet be
damned. There, in the buff, was one
of the nicest butts she'd ever had the privilege of ogling. Not that she'd seen
many naked men’s butts, but she was sure this was prime real estate. Holy cow,
where was her cell phone when she needed a camera?
The man stood at the sink with his head under the
faucet, her quilt pooled at his feet. She should leave, she really should, but
her feet were pasted to the floor, her heart beating so hard she was
afraid he'd hear. Her fingers tingled with the desire to touch. Without
thinking, she put her hand against the door, moving it just enough for the
hinge to screech.
He straightened, and looking in the mirror, stared
directly into her eyes.
She'd been caught, and she wanted to run, but the
sight of his green eyes locked on her kept her motionless.
Without a word, he bent to retrieve the quilt.
Wrapping it around his waist, he turned to face her, and her eyes focused on
his six-pack abs. The slight movement of his mouth as he smiled drew her
attention to his face. The scar running through his left eyebrow kept him from
being a pretty boy. He was the whole package, candy to her sweet tooth. Then
she remembered how she’d found him last night.
Thanks to everyone who helped me make this book possible, and don't forget Evernight Publishing is donating part of every sale from May 1st-15th to Breast Cancer Awareness.
