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Authors: T. J. Kline

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BOOK: Runaway Cowboy
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His hand brushed the shoulder of her dress to the side, and his lips found the edge of her collarbone. A jolt of electricity shot over her shoulders and down her spine as his hands slid back up her sides to tease the peak of her breast through her clothing. One hand moved to curve around her hip, pressing her against his straining erection.

“And aching,” he murmured against the side of her throat. “Say yes,” he repeated as he ran his tongue over the hollow just below her ear. “Marry me.” His lips trailed over her jaw as her head fell back.

His fingers gripped her rear. “I'm still waiting, Jen.” He reached for her hand, holding the ring at the end of her finger.

“Yes,” she whispered, laughing through her tears. “But, so help me,” she warned, sliding her free hand to the front of his pants. “If you even think of leaving me a second time, you'll never ride right again.”

Clay slid his calloused hands up her thighs, letting the dress rise with his hand to her waist. “Trust me; this is exactly where I want to be. And I'm going to spend every day proving it to you, starting right now.”

Epilogue

J
ENNIFER PRESSED THE
bowl of potato salad into Clay's hands. “Here, put this out for me? I know it's your favorite.” She gave him a wicked grin, thinking about the bowl she'd dumped on his head not too long ago.

“Don't give me that look. You wouldn't dare dump this on me because you know I'll smear wedding cake on your face without thinking twice,” he said, sliding the bowl onto the kitchen table before returning to her side.

“Let's not start a food fight.” She laughed, feeling completely overwhelmed with adoration for her husband of only four hours.

Clay reached for her waist and drew her into his embrace, pressing her back against the kitchen countertop. “Only if we have a private food fight and I get to pick the foods. I'm thinking some ice cream, caramel syrup . . . ” His eyes gleamed mischievously as she smacked his bicep.

“You're sort of incorrigible. You know that, right?”

Clay's fingers trailed up the sides of her wedding dress and over the curved sweetheart neckline, sending shivers of warm heat spiraling to her core, making her anxious to leave for their honeymoon.

“You know it's just one of the many things you love about me.”

“Yes,” she agreed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “And because you're so charismatic.” Clay drew back and looked at her quizzically. “Scott told me all about how you were sure you could get me to forgive you. Guess I wasn't as easy as you thought.”

“It was all part of my plan.” He ran his thumb over her cheekbone, growing serious. “How long do you want to stay? Our flight isn't until nine tonight.”

“I want you all to myself as soon as possible,” she answered, curling her arm around his waist. “But I want you to have plenty of time to visit with your sister.”

“I forgot to tell you, but Candie asked about staying with us for a few weeks after she finishes school next summer. I think she's debating settling down in a small town now that she's had a taste of it.”

“She's moving here?” Jen was surprised. After talking for the past several months on the phone and video chat, Clay and his sister were finally coming to terms with their past mistakes and putting them where they belonged—in the past. Candie not only managed to stay out of trouble but went back to school to get her cosmetology license. When she arrived a few days before the wedding, Jen had barely recognized the blond who walked up the porch stairs. She was beautiful, healthy, and, more important than anything else, happy and worry free. Deep down, Jen and Clay had both been worried that Candie would bore of small town living and go back to her old ways. Seeing the change in her made Jen's joy complete.

“She's thinking about it. Probably about the same time Derek graduates and comes home. It would be a full house.” He glanced through the kitchen window at the crowd of people milling around the food tables and near the makeshift dance floor they'd set up in the yard. “Would you mind?”

She cupped the smooth surface of his fresh shaven cheek, missing his usual five o'clock shadow. “Clayton Michael Graham,” she scolded. “Your family is my family. She can move in whenever she wants to. We'll make it work.” She smiled at him. “Candie and I were talking about chopping off this mop I call hair. It would be nice to have a stylist around.”

Clay ran his hands through her long, curled tresses, cupping the back of her head. “Don't you dare.” He bent forward and nibbled at the corner of her mouth. “Are you sure you're okay with her staying here? Just until she gets on her feet.”

“More than okay, happy about it.” Jen curled her hand around the back of his neck and pressed her lips against his.

“You know, Jerry gave me a key to one of the cabins, in case we wanted to leave early tonight. We could make a stop before the airport.”

Her brows knit on her forehead and she frowned. “We can't run away. The band hasn't even started yet.” She laughed at his eagerness to get her alone.

“Not run away. This time I'm running toward something—our future, together.” He tipped her chin up so that their eyes met. “I love you, Jennifer. I might run, but it will be forward, with your hand in mine, forever.”

Clay kissed her, holding her against his body, making her forget the hundreds of family and friends waiting for them in the yard. She clung to him, letting her body melt against his frame, letting her love for him overflow. Somehow, her cowboy had found his way back home, pushing aside the pain and regret of the past to embrace the future.

“Eh-hem.”

Jennifer turned and looked at the kitchen door where Mike stood, smiling broadly. “Go away, Mike.” Clay teased the older man, but his eyes never left Jen's face. “You're interrupting.”

“Yeah, well, I guess that's my prerogative since I'm the one responsible for your having such a lovely wife.” He pulled several serving trays of food from the refrigerator. “We have hungry guests waiting to toast the bride and groom again.”

Clay sighed and hung his head. “Fine, let's go make yet another appearance before we steal away for the night.”

He wasn't fooling her. She caught Clay's grin as he led her toward the doorway. Jen paused long enough to embrace Mike. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Mike smiled down at her, his eyes gleaming with parental pride. “I was thrilled to walk you down the aisle today.”

“Thank you for giving me back what I hadn't realized I missed.” She kissed Mike's cheek.

“You're very welcome, kiddo. Sometimes you've got to let that pony run, and other times, you need to just lead him where he needs to be.”

Acknowledgments

W
ITH EVERY BOOK
I write, it seems like I have more people to thank. I have made some of my best friends during the writing of this series, both traditionally published and indie authors. I want to especially thank the Avon ladies (you guys know who you are!) for setting the bar high and pushing me to get better with each and every book I write. You are the most amazingly talented group of authors a girl could ask for as mentors.

A huge thank you to the Avon Addicts! Without you, I would still be floundering in my bubble of self-doubt midway through my second story. You are my coffee and pump me up to write daily.

I must thank my amazingly talented editor, Rebecca, who made this manuscript shine and made edits painless and fun. Without you, I'd be an OCD mess right now.

Thank-you hugs and kisses go all around to my family and husband. You have put up with so many months of fix-your-own dinners, group house cleaning sessions, and “Shh, mom's got the headphones on” days in the past year just to help me reach my dreams. I love you guys to the moon and back again.

And to the One who makes all of this possible, thank you! I am so very blessed that I still pinch myself when I wake.

 

Continue reading for an excerpt from

LEARNING THE ROPES

by T. J. Kline

Available now from Avon Impulse!

 

An Excerpt from

LEARNING THE ROPES

Chapter One

A
LICIA
K
ANANI SLAPPED
the reins against her horse's rump as he stretched out, practically flying between the barrels down the length of the rodeo arena, dirt clods kicking up behind them as the paint gelding ate up the ground with his long stride. She glanced at the clock as she pulled him up, circling to slow him to a jog as a cowboy opened the back gate, allowing her to exit. 16.45. It was good enough for only second place right now.
Damn it!
If only she'd been able to cut the first barrel closer, it might have taken another tenth of a second off her time.

She walked her favorite gelding, Beast, back to the trailer and hooked the halter around his neck before loosening his cinch. The titter of female laughter floated on the breeze, and recognition dawned as the pair of women moved from behind her trailer. Alicia cringed.

“Look, Dallas, there's Miss Runner Up.” Delilah jerked her chin at Alicia's trailer. “Came in second again, huh?” She flipped her long blond waves over her shoulder. “I guess you can't win them all . . . oh, wait,” she giggled. “You don't seem to win any, do you? That would be me.” The pair laughed as if it were the funniest joke ever.

“Isn't it hard to ride a broom
and
a horse at the same time, Delilah?” Alicia tipped her head to the side innocently as Delilah glared at her and stormed away, dragging Dallas with her.

Delilah had been a thorn in her side ever since high school when Alicia first arrived in West Hills. There'd never been a lack of competition between them but, years later, only one of them had matured at all.

Alicia snidely imitated Delilah's laugh to her horse as she pulled the saddle from his back and put it into the back of the trailer. “She thinks she's so funny. ‘You haven't won, I have,' ” she mimicked in a nasally voice. “What a bitch,” she muttered as she rubbed the curry comb over Beast's neck and back.

“I sure hope you don't kiss your mother with that mouth.”

“Chris!” Alicia spun to see Chris Thomas, her best friend Sydney's brother, walking toward her trailer. She hurried over and gave him a bear hug. “Did you rope already?”

“Later tonight, during the slack. Too many entries, so hopefully we finish before the barbecue starts.”

She'd rodeoed with Chris and Sydney for years until Chris had gone pro with his team roping partner. For the last few years, they'd all been pursuing the same goal, the National Finals Rodeo in their events. So far their paths hadn't crossed since Sydney's wedding nearly two years ago. She'd suspected she might see him here since they were so close to home and this particular rodeo boasted a huge purse for team ropers. Her eyes did a quick survey of him, realizing the past couple of years had been very good to him. Unfortunately, he had always oozed self-confidence and she was sure he was aware of the fact.

“I see Delilah's still giving you a hard time.”

She shrugged and gave him a half-smile. “She's still mad I beat her out for rodeo queen when Sydney gave up the title.”

“That was a long time ago. You'd think she'd let it go.” Chris stuffed one hand into his pockets and leaned against the side of her trailer, patting Beast's neck. “Maybe you should put Nair in her shampoo like she did to you.”

Alicia cringed at the memory. “Ugh! It was a good thing I smelled it before I put it on my head. That could've been traumatic. But I got her back.”

Chris laughed out loud. “Didn't you put liniment in her lip gloss?”

She pinched her lips together, trying to keep from laughing at the reminder of the prank. They had some good times together in the past. She wondered how they'd managed to drift apart over the past few years. She missed his laugh and the way he always seemed to bring the playful side of her personality to the surface. One minute they were traveling together, the three of them inseparable, and the next they hadn't spoken more than a few words in years.

“So, how'd you do?” he asked.

“Second, so far. Again,” she clarified.

Chris gave her a lopsided grin and crossed his arms over his chest. She tried not to notice how his biceps bulged against the material of his Western shirt or how much he'd filled out since she'd last seen him. And in all the right places.

“Second's nothing to complain about.”

“It's nothing to brag about either,” she pointed out, tearing her eyes away from his broad chest and trying to focus on the horse in front of her. She went back to brushing Beast, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the way Chris continued to silently watch her, as if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to bring it up. She finally turned and faced him. “What?”

He grabbed the front of his straw cowboy hat with his palm and adjusted it nervously. “Are you going to the dance tonight?”

Alicia felt a sizzle begin in her stomach and spiral outward. She fumbled with the brush, nearly dropping it and prayed she'd misheard him. Like his sister, Chris had a heart of gold and would do anything for his friends but, unlike Sydney, he was a flirt. A player. The type of guy with a new girl on his arm at every rodeo and never serious about any of them. He always had been and, she suspected, always would be. But, in spite of the way she and Sydney teased him about his philandering ways unmercifully growing up, she'd always harbored a huge crush on him, even if he'd never seen her as anything more than another pesky sister.

She stared at Beast's back, her hands no longer moving, unsure how to answer him. Chris must have seen her discomfort—he'd always been able to read her too well—and pushed himself away from the trailer, curling his lip with distaste.

BOOK: Runaway Cowboy
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