The Cowboy's Surprise Return

Cole Wylder has sworn off women.

But what’s a cowboy to do when the key to rebuilding bridges with his family means faking something serious with the town sweetheart, a pretty spitfire named Jackie Moorhouse?

Jackie’s waited for Cole to return home for five long years. Surely the crush she’s been sporting since she was knee-high to a grasshopper no longer means anything.

There’s only one way to find out, and that’s to date Cole—even if it’s something fake.

But what will Jackie do when their ruse starts to feel real? And what will she do when family circumstances force her to cut things off with the only man she’s ever loved?

Can Cole figure out how to keep the woman his heart belongs to—the one woman who refuses to keep it?

This is a sweet small town romance set on the beautiful Sweet Meadows Ranch in Hill Country Texas. Come fall in love in this heartwarming fake cowboy romance that’s full of true love.

“Has a lot changed since you left?” Jackie winced as Cole helped elevate her leg, propping it on the coffee table in front of her. He slipped a silky red cushion under her heel.
When he summoned the courage to look at her, her expression was open and curious. No apparent judgment, just welcoming acceptance. He wanted to soak it in, pull her into his arms and give her a hug.

“I was saying at Christmas that it seemed like nothing ever changed when I lived here. But it turns out all you have to do is go away for a few years. Then everything changes.” He chuckled, trying to disguise the ache in his chest that had somehow made its way into his voice.

“Well, I’m still the same.”

“No, you’re quieter.” He settled himself on the coffee table across from her. Cole knew he should return to his welcome back party, but felt like they were precariously perched on the cusp of something good, and he didn’t want to disturb whatever it might turn out to be.

A conversation? A connection? A sense that he wasn’t alone? A shared smile? It was small, easy to overlook or dismiss, but it somehow felt… important. Like this was the place he was supposed to be right now.

“I’m not quieter!” She seemed surprised, her face scrunched into an adorable expression of protest.

“Around me you are.”

She scoffed, nothing more than a soft huff riding on a cloud of disbelief, but it made him smile, anticipating what she’d say next.

“Well, that’s because I have a secret crush on you, and now that you’re here in the flesh it’s very difficult to think and speak.” She flashed that flirtatious, fun grin he loved so much. She did such a good job of putting on the facade that he almost forgot about the sadness darkening her blue, hazel-flecked eyes. “I mean, if you stay a moment longer I can’t be responsible for what I might do to you.”

“Most women in your position would have ripped my clothes off already,” he said, playing along. “You didn’t fake this tumble just to get me alone, did you?”

She choked with amused disbelief. “You think you’re worth this?” She held up her shredded palm and gestured to her swollen knee. “Your ego always was mighty huge, Cole.” She narrowed her eyes and dropped her voice an octave, sending tingles up his spine as she batted her lashes. “I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed.”

He chuckled. There was something about Jackie Moorhouse that made him want to kiss her.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” he asked.

“I don’t have one.”

“You’re right. You haven’t changed, despite being quieter.” He sighed loudly, as though bearing a burden. “Wild and out of control, living life without a first aid kit.”

She laughed. “And do you have one. Wild Wylder?”

He tensed at the old nickname. “I’m sure there’s one on the ranch,” he said mildly. “So I own part of one.”

Jackie laughed, the sound rich and contagious. Her face lit up, reminding him of the girl she used to be. The layer of tension and worry that had been present lifted, and it was as though everything in her world had been righted again.

By him.

But still… Cole knew better. Those shadows were still there, even if he couldn’t see them at the moment.

“Point me to your bathroom,” he said. “We’ll get you fixed up.”

“You’re supposed to be at your party.”

He leaned forward, placing a hand on her thigh, above her uninjured knee. She froze, her breathing coming to a halt. Maybe she still had that crush on him, after all. Or maybe she wasn’t immune to the tension that suddenly coiled and crackled around them. “And what kind of host would I be if I allowed one of my guests to go home alone, wounded and without care?”

Jackie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. He frowned. They were having a moment here; couldn’t she see that? Had his moves grown that rusty?

“What?” he protested, when she continued to act unimpressed. He lifted his hand from her leg, unable to stop smiling. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

She raised her brows, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“It’s new to me,” he muttered, moving aside the torn denim to study her injured knee, eager to avoid meeting her gaze.
“Okay, well, in that case you’re doing very well. If I were a teacher I’d give you about a B. Maybe a B minus.”

“Only a B?” He looked up indignantly. “I scooped you up off the street. I escorted you home. I haven’t once done anything inappropriate.”

“Well, obviously you don’t read your audience very well,” she said, sucking in her cheeks as though fighting a smile. Her eyes were dancing again. They were losing their darkness, turning a deep shade of blue, almost indigo. It was mesmerizing, and incredibly heady knowing he’d had that effect just by being himself.