Kindle Edition
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Category:
Romance
Publisher: Kindle Direct Publishing/CreateSpace
ISBN-10: 1523694068
Type: Fiction
Pages: 150
Copyright: Feb. 16, 2016
ISBN-13: 9781523694068
Price: $0.99 (eBook)
Hang onto your hat for a Wild West ride!
Sara knew Hank was trouble from the get-go.
Delicious trouble.
His metallic purple Kenworth sparkled in the Wyoming sunshine. When he sauntered into the Flying Bison Grill, pulling his worn cowboy hat lower on his forehead, Hank looked way too good in those Wranglers.
Of all the times for Richard, Sara’s unpredictable ex-husband, to show up.
Soon she was desperate to get out of town.
Hank was willing to help her – for a price.
Adults only.
Warning: If you can’t handle dirty words, explicit sex scenes, and hot kink, this may not be the book for you.
Excerpt
The metallic purple cab sparkled in the glaring sun as the semi rolled into the grill’s large parking lot. Sara Cooke read the fancy lettering on the driver’s door: “Hank Werner Trucking, Cheyenne, Wyoming.”
She’d never seen this rig before.
She set the coffee pot down and watched the driver climb out. A cowboy trucker. They were a dime a dozen in Wyoming. As he sauntered across the asphalt, he glanced back at the massive eighteen-wheeler and pulled his worn straw cowboy hat lower on his forehead.
Inside the grill, he headed to a window booth in her station. He left his hat on. That was typical of these cowboy types. Tall and lanky, he wore polished black cowboy boots – the kind with square toes and nice stitching. His Wrangler jeans fit him just right. He even had one of those oval silver belt buckles. Probably a rodeo trophy. Most of those were. The long sleeves of his dark red western shirt were rolled up, revealing a blue tattoo on his left arm.
“Howdy,” she said, setting water and a menu in front of him.
“Hey there.” He glanced up with a friendly smile and opened the plastic-covered menu.
A long salt-and-pepper ponytail streamed down his back. Not many cowboy truckers in these parts sported long hair. Or tattoos, for that matter. Still, he dressed like a good old-fashioned cowboy trucker, not like the young, sloppy ones. This guy seemed like the real deal, his sideburns and mustache bright white against his tanned face. “I’ll give you a minute,” she told him.
He nodded. “Restroom?”
Sara pointed it out. As he ambled down the hall she swallowed hard. He looked good in his Wranglers. The jeans cupped his muscular ass in a decidedly sexy way. She shook it off, cursing herself. Of course this guy would already be taken. Men like him were always too good to be true. Sara felt her face heat up, embarrassed by the pull she felt in her groin. She hadn’t felt that pull for a long time.
How ridiculous, she thought, suddenly as shy and insecure as a school girl. She picked up an order, tossing her head. Here she was, forty-three and divorced, for crying out loud. Since the cancer she’d been celibate. Maybe it was getting to her. Her scar wasn’t that bad, but that damned Johnny had made her feel untouchable.
Sara shrugged. She was feeling pretty good these days – good enough to work double shifts often, to help Annie and the others. She liked helping and she needed the money, especially now that Lexie was talking about going to college. Sara knew her ex, Lexie’s dad, wouldn’t be good for any support whatsoever.
The late morning sun beamed through the grill’s tall windows. It was too early for lunch for most folks. Annie would be here soon. Sara busied herself filling up the glass sugar containers.
Of course she felt untouchable. Her cheeks flamed hotter as she recalled the horrified look on Johnny’s face that night. Sara wished she could forget it. The one guy she’d let in. Just her luck! That was six months after the surgery. She’d never thought he would act like such an ass, pulling back when he felt and saw the radiation scar on her left breast. He’d given her a quick excuse and left.
She hadn’t heard from him since.
Thank God he never came into the Flying Bison Grill any more. What a dim-wit. On the other hand, it might be nice if he came in one more time, so she could toss scalding coffee in his face.
Sara knew it was his loss. But why did she have this feeling of shame?
She tossed her hair again. She’d always been attractive. Even beautiful, some would say. Now she felt deformed, thanks to Johnny.
She should go see a shrink or something. It was time for a change. A big one. Sara was tired of watching these truckers come and go. For the longest time she’d wanted to join them on the road.
She glanced out the window as another rig pulled in. Maybe one of these guys would teach her how to drive his semi. The thing was, Sara couldn’t afford to take any time off. This waitressing job paid the bills. More or less. The Flying Bison was the best place to eat in Chugwater, and the tips were good. It was part of the Flying Bison Inn, the only lodging in this one-horse town. The grill wasn’t actually a truck stop, but the truckers liked the food.
As Mr. Sexy Wranglers passed behind her, she caught the scent of Aramis. Her favorite. Sara kept her eyes on the sugar container in front of her. Just a faint scent. Perfect. She hated most men’s colognes. But she loved this one. She inhaled the wood and leather aroma.
She waited until he was seated, then walked over. “Ready to order?”
“You betcha. Taco salad with ranch, and black coffee.”
“Got it.” Sara put her pencil back behind her ear and looked into his suntanned face. When he grinned, his sloping hazel eyes seemed kind. He was handsome in that cowboy hat. His appraising gaze took her breath away.
Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself again.
When she brought his coffee, he grinned again. “How did Chugwater get its name?” he asked.
“You must be a newbie.”
“Yep. Just moved to Cheyenne.”
“Chugwater was named after the sound of bison hitting the creek at the bottom of the cliff.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. Long ago the Mandan hunted buffalo by driving them over the cliffs here. When the animals landed, they made a chug sound. They called it ‘water at the place where the buffalo chug’ because of the stream.”
The pick-up bell rang. “SARA!” the cook hollered.
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