Holy hot flashes! This blue-eyed dream in a pair of Wranglers is the best-looking cowboy I’ve ever seen. Thankfully, I’m immune to his charms.
After nearly 25 years as a trophy wife, my cheating ex dumped me for a younger woman.
Now I’m starting over in a new place with a car, a piddly amount if money in the bank, and an exotic cat.
Oh, and a ten-foot pole to keep between me and any man, even the good-looking, boot-wearing Texan who swoops in to help me.
Yes, he makes me remember what it’s like to feel something. But my heart is too brittle for romance.
Every sassy comment I fling his way, he serves right back until I’m not sure if we’re arguing or flirting.
With him, I feel more alive than I have in years, but starting over means standing on my own two feet, not being swept off them.
