My One and Only Cowboy

Book 1: Meadow Valley

by A.J. Pine

Genres: Family Life; Sagas; Women's Fiction; Contemporary Romance; Western Romance

Synopsis

From this "fabulous storyteller" (Carolyn Brown, New York Times bestselling author) comes the first book in an all-new western romance series. Delaney Harper thought she'd seen the last of Meadow Valley two years ago after she divorced her lying, cheating, gambler of a husband who left her broken-hearted and, well, just flat broke. But news that her ex sold their property---without legally removing her from the deed---means heading back to claim her share of the land---and possibly her dream. Sam Callahan, co-owner of the Meadow Valley guest ranch, is barely keeping his head above water. He bought the land for a steal, but keeping a new business afloat is another story. When a gorgeous blonde barges onto his property on a quiet Friday afternoon insisting he bought the place in a fraudulent sale---and that she's there to prove she still owns half the land---Sam realizes he's got much more to worry about. He could lose everything---including his heart.

Release date: December 17, 2019

Publisher: Forever

Print pages: 657

Sample

Chapter One

Sam Callahan stood on the front porch of Meadow Valley Ranch’s registration cabin, the one where he, his brother Ben, or their buddy Colt greeted each new guest. They were only in their second month of full operation, though, which meant new guests weren’t exactly pouring through the doors. Not yet, anyway. What was that saying from the baseball movie he loved—Field of Dreams? Something about once you build the thing, people will come.

Well, come on, people. We’re ready and waiting—and really need you to spend your money.

He and his brother Ben sold their family’s horse boarding business and sank every penny they owned—and a few they didn’t—into building the thing. The ranch. Their dream. They’d even let Colt invest as a third partner. Now it was just a matter of getting the people to come.

Right now he watched as Ben gave a riding lesson to a young couple celebrating their first anniversary. Colt was leading a trail ride for the Tanners, a family of four with a pair of identical twin boys he still couldn’t tell apart even after they’d been at the ranch for three days. And Pearl called from the inn to let him know she was sending a handful of folks his way now that she was booked solid. 

It was a start, but a slow one to say the least.

Today, though, something felt…off. The guests all seemed happy at breakfast, and everyone headed out to their various activities just fine. But sometimes Sam got an inkling, and for a guy who liked to keep things simple and logical, inklings didn’t sit well.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see KITCHEN EMERGENCY in all caps from Luis, Meadow Valley’s head chef.

“Shit,” he hissed. It was only ten o’clock in the morning. He was hoping to make it until at least noon before any all-caps texts came through. No such luck.

He stepped out from under the protection of the covered porch and was hit head-on by the hottest morning sun they’d had in months. The transition from September to October had brought along mild days and cool nights, but today the temperature was nearing a record high of ninety degrees.

He swore under his breath and swiped his arm across his forehead, where sweat had already started to bead along his hairline. He kept his hair cropped short for this very reason, but on days like today, it didn’t matter. Hot was hot.

He silently berated himself for insisting that whoever worked the desk in the main cabin wore a collared shirt. Didn’t matter that his plaid button-up was paper thin or that his sleeves were rolled to his elbows. There was no relief. It was going to be one heck of a fall festival if these temps held out for the entire week. He had planned to wait until spring to clear the new trail to the swimming hole, but maybe he would add that to his already growing list for this weekend.

But first—kitchen emergency.

He entered the dining cabin to the sound of raised voices, a man’s and a woman’s, arguing about—apples?

“My apple and spinach salad needs a Granny Smith! I always use a Granny Smith!” Luis bellowed, his arms raised and his round belly straining against his white apron.

“Never trust a cook who looks like he doesn’t enjoy his own food,” Luis had said when he’d come to interview for the job. “Cuanto más grande sea la barriga, mejor será la comida. The bigger the belly, the better the food.” It didn’t take much more than that—and a tasting menu that had put Sam, Ben, and Colt into a major food coma—to know that Luis was right for the job. He was one of the best chefs Sam knew, running the ranch’s kitchen like a well-oiled machine. But when things went wrong—no matter how tiny—it was an all-caps kitchen emergency.

“For the eleventh time,” a tall, short-haired brunette yelled, hands gesturing wildly, “the Granny Smith crop was destroyed by a pack of squirrels. But my Honeycrisp are the best you’ll ever taste. I charge more for the Honeycrisps and am willing to give you the same price for a better apple!” It was Anna, their produce supplier.

She plucked a piece of fruit from the white box sitting on the kitchen’s prep island and shoved it in Sam’s face. “Here,” she said. “Taste. Tell this man he’d be crazy not to use this apple in his precious salad.”

The apple was practically touching Sam’s lips, and he’d once again forgotten to eat breakfast, so he grabbed the fruit in question and tore off a bite with a satisfying crunch.

Apple juice dribbled onto his chin as his taste buds exploded with the perfect mix of sweet and tangy. Maybe this inkling he was having about the day wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“That’s one fine apple, Luis,” Sam said around his mouthful. “I’m not much for salads, but I’m thinking this is the fruit you’re looking for. And it is less than two hours until we open for lunch.” He raised his brows.

Luis narrowed his eyes—a standoff of sorts.

Luis was a few years older than Sam, early thirties. He’d been a sous chef at a resort restaurant on Lake Tahoe. Sam and Ben had a chance meeting with him when they’d made the drive down to Carson City to visit their mom and her husband, Ted. He asked to interview for the job on the spot—while the Callahans were eating at his resort. There was no way Sam could match what Luis was being paid—not yet, at least—but he could offer him his own kitchen and the promise that he, Ben, and Colt would never step on his toes. But it was hotter than Hades out there already, and he guessed the Meadow Valley patrons would be less than happy if they showed up for their second paid meal of the day only to find the kitchen had come to a halt over apples. Sam and Luis were dealing with a ticking clock.

Luis opened his mouth—likely to protest—but Anna shoved an apple between his teeth.

“One bite,” she said calmly. “One little bite, and if it’s not one of the best apples you’ve ever tasted, I’ll drive across town to that awful touristy orchard that charges an arm and a leg for a bushel of what I could pick from my own trees if those pesky squirrels hadn’t broken through my fence, and I will buy you your stupid Granny Smiths.”

Sam shrugged and bit off another chunk of his own apple.

Luis sighed through his nose and sank his teeth into the forbidden fruit. His eyes fluttered shut, and he groaned.

Anna tossed the apple in the air, caught it bite side up, and grinned, triumphant. “Stubborn man.”

Luis swallowed and opened his eyes, reaching for his apple.

“Oh no,” Anna said. “Apology first. Then you get your fruit.”

Luis’s jaw tightened.

Sam hopped onto the counter and continued to enjoy his apple. “Don’t mind me, folks,” he said. “I’m just here for the show.”

Anna slid the box of apples farther from Luis’s reach, then brandished the one he’d tasted like she was the evil queen tempting Snow White. “Come on, Luis,” she taunted. “All you have to do is say, ‘I’m sorry, Anna. You were right. You’re always right.’”

Sam choked back a laugh.

Anna tapped her foot on the tiled floor.

Luis emitted a low growl. “I’m…sorry, Anna. You…were…” He sighed and threw his hands in the air. “Just…give me the apples. I paid for them.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Technically, I paid for them, and I’d kind of like to see you say the thing she wants you to say.”

Luis mumbled something under his breath, which meant he’d likely have some words for Sam when they kicked back with a few beers around the firepit later that evening. In the short time they’d worked together, the two men had become friends. Sam wasn’t the type to pull the boss card, but in this case it was worth it.

Veins pulsed in Luis’s neck, and Anna beamed.

“I’m sorry, Anna. You were right. You’re always right. Give me my apples.” Luis spouted the words in rapid succession, snatched the apple he’d tasted from Anna’s outstretched hand, and then stormed through the dining hall and out the cabin’s front door, likely to finish his apple and cool off—emotionally, at least. Because the temperature was still rising.

Sam laughed and hopped off the counter, tossing his apple core into a nearby composting bin.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Anna said.

“Sure.”

“There were no squirrels. The Granny Smiths are fine. But I knew he’d like these better.”

Sam shook his head. “Why do you torture him like that?”

Anna shrugged. “Because it’s so easy. And fun. I can’t help myself.” She patted the box of Honeycrisp apples. “I’ll email you the invoice. Always a pleasure doing business with you, Sam Callahan.”

She held out her hand, and he shook it and grinned. Then she bounded out the back door to her truck. She’d be back the same time next week, likely to mess with Luis again.

“Is there no one else?”

Sam turned to see Luis standing in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the dining hall.

“No one else to what?” Sam asked.

Luis crossed his arms and stared toward the back door. “No one else who can be our produce supplier.”

“And dairy supplier.” Sam laughed. “Where? Anna’s farm is the best in the county, and she’s ten minutes away. If you actually ever had a kitchen emergency, she could be here in a matter of minutes, most likely with whatever you needed.”

Luis lifted his Chicago Cubs baseball cap—still a fan of his hometown team—and ran a hand through his overgrown brown hair. “Then we’ve got a big problem.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam said. “What’s that?”

Luis shook his head and sighed deeply. “I think I’m in love with her.”

Sam rubbed his temples and blew out a breath. “We have a great thing going with Anna,” he said. “Affordable prices. On-time delivery. And she even knows what goes better in your salad than you do. Please, Luis. I’m begging you. Don’t mess this up.”

Luis held a hand over his heart and wistfully stared at the place where Anna once stood. “That’s your problem, Sam. You only see the logic. When it comes to Anna, I don’t think with my head. I think with my—”

“All right. All right,” Sam interrupted. “I don’t need to hear about your—”

“Heart,” Luis said before Sam could finish. He whacked his friend on the shoulder with his baseball cap. “The heart doesn’t care about logic or what’s best for business. Do you think I cook with logic?” Luis slapped his knee and howled with laughter. “If you don’t start using that rusty old—and I might remind you, vital—organ soon, you’re going to miss out on the best of all of it.”

“All of what?” Sam asked.

Luis simply shook his head. “One of these days, my friend, you’ll get it.”

Sam shook his head and left Luis to his pining. He had a ranch to run.

“Logic,” he mumbled as he strode back toward the main cabin. That was how you ran a business. With logic. Not heart. Luis could fall for whomever he wanted. But their produce supplier? Maybe Anna didn’t exactly work for the ranch, but she worked with them. Daily. If things ever truly went south between her and Luis, then Sam, Ben, and Colt would be up one hell of a creek.

Ben was standing against the arena fence while his riders braved a few laps on their own.

“Who’s got your panties in a wad?” he called to Sam as he passed.

Sam flipped his brother a good-natured bird and kept on toward his destination.

Didn’t Luis get that Sam had to be the logical one? Or Ben or Colt for that matter? Of course they didn’t. They all had lives outside the day-to-day running of the ranch. Sam was the one who signed the checks, who balanced the books, and who knew how much they needed to pay the next bill. His life was the business. He knew they’d be in the red for a while after getting things off the ground, but he also knew that doing anything to remotely jeopardize the ranch could sink them.

They’d moved north to Meadow Valley, California, from their hometown of Oak Bluff not just because they got the land for a steal but also because it had an exceptional memory care facility where his and Ben’s father now lived. So it wasn’t just their livelihoods on the line. It was their father’s life as well.

“Panties in a wad,” he said to himself as he strode back into the main cabin, where his silver pit bull, Scout, was sleeping on the sunny part of the rug where he’d last left her. He’d woken in a pretty good mood this morning, but now he’d gone from enjoying a really good apple—and watching Anna make Luis eat his words—to wondering when the next shoe would drop.

He stepped over his still-lounging pup but stopped short before he could make it to his office. A woman stood at the reception desk, her back to him as she peered over the top so that all he could see were her fitted jeans, her tennis shoes, and the tanned skin at the small of her back where her red tank top rose up.

He cleared his throat, and the woman straightened with a gasp.

“Sorry!” she said, turning to face him so that he now saw the messy strawberry-blond bun on top of her head and the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Clear hazel eyes stared him down as if she were privy to the biggest secret in the world while he was lost in the dark. Pretty—for a snoop.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and crossed his arms. He didn’t take kindly to anyone, pretty or not, looking through his stuff, especially if said stuff belonged to the ranch.

She raised her brows. “That depends. Are you the owner of this place?”

He nodded once, already getting a sinking feeling in his gut. “Sam Callahan. One of three.”

She extended her hand, and he shook it without thinking because that was what you did.

“Delaney Harper,” she said. “And you mean one of four. My ex-husband sold you this place by forging my name on the quitclaim deed, so the way I see it, this place is half mine.”

Sam pulled his hand away and laughed. “Ben put you up to this, right?” His brother had been giving him shit all week about loosening up. He’d always been the jokester—spraying Sam with the hose when he was bathing the horses, pushing him off the pond bridge fully clothed. Come to think of it, Ben’s pranks usually occurred only when water was around. This was his most sophisticated one yet.

“Who’s Ben?” Delaney asked.

“It was Colt?” he said.

But even as he tried to rationalize that it could have been his buddy, her name replayed in his head, and he knew it wasn’t a coincidence. The last name was all over the paperwork for the sale of the property—the land, the ramshackle little cottage, and the barn that was in disrepair. Neither structure had been good for anything other than tearing down and rebuilding.

“Delaney Harper,” he said, emphasizing her last name.

“That’s me,” she said with a wince. Then she cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. “All I took was the man’s name, and he went and took everything from me in return. That changes today.”

“You’re either kin or you’re Wade Harper’s wife,” he said simply. Wade was the property’s former owner. “Either way, still not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Ex-wife,” she explained. Her expression turned wistful as her green-eyed gaze traveled to the window that looked out on the stable. “You took down my barn. I know it wasn’t much, but I had a hand in building it. Wade and I were underwater when I left him, which was why we didn’t unload the property then. It’s spelled out in the divorce that when the place was fit to sell, we’d split any profit equally. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised he found a way to sell it out from under me before the divorce was even final, but here I am.” She sighed. “Glad you kept the English maple on the outskirts. Always did love that tree.”

He followed her gaze. Either she was putting on one hell of an act, or she was who she said she was, because the first thing he and his crew did when they started work out here was tear down that barn and replace it with the stable. And no way was he tearing down any trees. The whole point of this place was to appreciate the outdoors. Not destroy it.

“I had a real estate attorney go over everything,” he said, more to himself than to her.

She turned her attention back to him, her expression hardening, and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’d fire that lawyer, because either they didn’t spot the forgery, or they helped push it through. I’ll just need to get a copy of the quitclaim deed, give it to my lawyer, and then—I don’t know—see you in court to figure out which half of the land is mine.”

“The quit what?” he asked. He knew a thing or two about buying and selling property, but she was speaking another language.

She sighed. “Quit. Claim. Deed. When two people own a piece of land together, the only way one can sell it on their own is for the other to sign over ownership. Which I did not. Yet somehow Wade was able to sell you our property. I don’t suppose the forgery was included in your paperwork?”

Sam laughed. He was never an asshole intentionally, but this woman sure had some nerve. “You waltz in here telling me what I own isn’t really mine, and now you want me to produce the paperwork to prove it?” He was certain her first name was nowhere to be found in his closing documents. Wade Harper was the only person listed as seller. “And why are you coming around now when I bought this place almost two years ago?”

She crossed her arms. “So that’s a no to the paperwork?”

He crossed his arms right back. “I’ll show you anything you want to see because I guarantee your name is nowhere to be found. Now it’s your turn to answer my question.”

Her shoulders sagged. “I didn’t know he sold it,” she said, losing some of her steam. “Not until I couldn’t sleep last night and decided to google Meadow Valley.” She shrugged. “I do that every now and then. This was supposed to be my new home, you know? Guess I’m still not over it. And imagine my surprise when your ranch came up in my search—far, far down the page, by the way. You should work on your analytics.”

“Ana—what?” he asked, but she waved him off.

“I saw my maple tree in your website photo and figured out what Wade did. Hopped right in my car. Made the drive from Vegas in eight hours flat,” she added proudly. “No stopping.” She cleared her throat. “Who built your website, anyway? Could use some work if you want to get folks through the door.”

Maybe he wasn’t a graphic design whiz, but he bought the domain and got some good pictures up there. What else did she expect? He wasn’t trying to sell the site. And why was he getting so defensive anyway? The ranch was what mattered, and he was proud of what he, his brother, and Colt had built.

“You drove here in the middle of the night?” Sam’s brows drew together. “After you happened upon our website?”

Delaney groaned. “You ever have your life all planned out and then have it ripped out from under you? As long as we still owned this land, there was a chance I could get back what I lost. Instead he sold that chance. And do you want to know the worst part?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “He assumed I wouldn’t come back to fight for it because what does Delaney do when she can’t fix a problem? She runs as far from it as she can get.” She mumbled that last part, and he realized she was talking more to herself than to him.

Sam gritted his teeth. “Look. I’m sure you want out of this mess as much as I do. If what you’re saying is true, can’t we figure out a fair price for me to buy you out?” He didn’t know yet where he’d get the money. Maybe the bank would give him an equity loan. He’d cross that bridge when the time came. Hell, he’d move heaven and earth to keep his land and his business intact, not just for himself but for Colt and Ben. For his father too.

“Sorry,” she said. “But I want my land back. If you don’t have the paperwork for me, I guess that means I’ll be heading down to the county courthouse to grab a copy of the forged deed I plan to contest. Sorry to bother you, Mr. Callahan.”

She turned on her heel and strode toward the cabin door.

“Whole town’s shut down for the week. Autumn festival and all.”

“Autumn festival?” she repeated, her brow furrowed.

He nodded, then scratched the back of his neck. “Meadow Valley Harvest Fest. Gourds. Corn maze. Bounce house for the kids. Any of it ringing a bell? You did live here at one point, right?”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “Didn’t make it past six weeks before—before I left.”

Her eyes flashed with something that looked like fear, but when he blinked, her gaze was nothing more than focused and intent. For a second, though, he saw. He saw that there was more to her story, and he found himself wanting to ask what it was or why she’d gone so soon after arriving.

She spun to face him. “What kind of town closes down for an entire week for pumpkins and bounce houses?”

“Don’t forget the corn maze and bobbing for apples,” he said with a wink. “We go all out.”

She gritted her teeth and let out an exasperated groan. “Very well,” she said, chin held high. “Then I guess you’ll be hearing from my lawyer when the town is back in business.”

He fought the urge to follow her to the door, some inexplicable need rising—a need to stop her from leaving, especially in her state of distress.

“Why not just take this up with your ex-husband?” he asked. “Doesn’t that make the most sense?”

Her shoulders sagged as he watched her bravado deflate. “Because I don’t know where he is. I tried calling the only number I had for him, but it rang and rang until it finally went to a generic voicemail. Not sure the phone is even still his.”

“You leave a message?” Sam asked.

She shook her head. “Didn’t see the point since I wasn’t sure who I was leaving it for.” She paused. “I thought if we fixed this place up together and made something out of it that I could somehow fix him. But I learned my lesson.”

This mess wasn’t her fault. She was just as blindsided as he was, and it wasn’t fair to put the blame on her.

“Let me get you a cold drink, maybe something to eat?” he said. “You have to be starving after driving all night and into the morning.”

She pressed her full pink lips together, and he couldn’t tell if she was considering his offer or trying to keep herself from yelling at him. Wade Harper was the one to blame. Not either of them. But Wade wasn’t here, so it was up to the two of them to figure it out, which meant he had to ignore the lips he realized he’d been staring at.

Logic. Not whatever it was that drove Luis’s decisions. Lo-gic. Yet he found himself gritting his teeth, waiting for her reply. Did he want her to say yes? No? Why couldn’t he reconcile the thoughts swirling around his head?

“I can’t,” she finally said.

And with that she stepped through the door, letting it slam behind her, the sound jolting him back to reality.

He breathed a sigh of relief, yet every muscle in his body was still as tense as the day his mother walked out on their father.

It was only then that Sam realized the white-knuckle grip he had on the reception desk’s wood trim—and that he had torn it free from its nails.

Luis, Anna, and the so-called kitchen emergency were already a distant memory. His stupid inkling had nothing to do with them. No, sir. It was all about Delaney Harper—the woman who would be his undoing.

This wasn’t the other shoe dropping. It was a steel-toed boot pummeling him into the dirt. He had to figure out how to fix this before Colt and Ben found out—before all three of them lost everything they’d given up to build their dream.

Chapter Two

Delaney slammed the key into the ignition and peeled off of the ranch property in a matter of seconds, her heart thudding against her chest, her eyes burning with the threat of tears.

Her lawyer—a.k.a. her aunt Debra—said she couldn’t promise anything without seeing the forged deed. What was she thinking waltzing onto someone else’s property and thinking he’d just hand it over? And what kind of town closed down for an entire week when the rest of the world kept on keeping on?

Meadow Valley, California.

It had been over two years since she left. She’d loved the small town when she and Wade were newlyweds—and when she’d been so close to getting the animal shelter up and running. Now, though, when she needed the town to behave for her, it left her in the dust.

A stop sign loomed ahead, so she pressed her foot to the brake. Something popped. She yelped as the car lurched. Then instinct took over and she steered the vehicle into the grass before it came to a complete halt, smoke pouring up from the hood.

“No, no, no, no, no!” she growled at the traitor of a vehicle.

She sat there for several long minutes, half hoping that whatever happened to the car would right itself if she just waited it out. When that didn’t seem to fix it, she pulled out her phone and googled the number for the town’s auto repair shop. It rang four times before the voicemail picked up.

“Welcome to Meadow Valley Motors. Just like the rest of the town, we’re closing shop until after the festival. Leave a message, and we’ll return your call in about a week.”

She tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and groaned, whacking her head against her seat back.

“A week? I’m stuck like this until Monday of the following week? That’s—that’s ten days!” Her voice rose both in volume and pitch.

She looked down at her phone and saw the seconds still ticking by on the timer.

Great, she hadn’t ended the call, which meant her building tantrum was recorded for posterity. She vigorously pressed her index finger again and again over the red icon on the screen, just in case the first try didn’t take.

This wasn’t the plan. She was supposed to breeze into town, get a copy of Wade’s forged deed, and get the ball rolling on reclaiming her land. Now she was stuck in her busted-up car with a busted-up plan on an October morning that felt like the middle of July.

A hand rapped against the driver’s side window, and Delaney yelped for the second time in ten minutes. She looked out to see Sam Callahan standing on the road next to her, his arms crossed and a cowboy hat casting a shadow over his eyes.

He seemed to tower over the vehicle like a movie villain ready to take down his rival.

She tried to open the window so she could talk to him from the relative safety of the car but realized that a car that wouldn’t move was also a car whose windows wouldn’t open. It was also growing hotter by the second. For all intents and purposes, Delaney was sitting inside a slowly heating oven, which meant she had no choice but to open the door and get out.

She stood, brushing nonexistent dust off her jeans, then mirrored Sam Callahan’s stance, arms crossed and everything.

“Ms. Harper,” he said with a nod.

“Mr. Callahan,” she said coolly, nodding back. “How’d you know I was here?”

He glanced back toward the guest quarters, which were easily visible from the road.

“Heard your car give up on you. Heck, everyone did. All that sputtering spooked the horses. It’s lucky Ben was done giving his lesson or we mighta had an emergency on our hands.”

Delaney threw her hands in the air. “Does this not look like an emergency? Not that it matters because Meadow Valley is not dealing with any emergencies until sometime by the end of the day a week from Monday. Monday!”

Sam cleared his throat. “County sheriff and deputies are on call the whole time. So’s the fire department. All our firefighters are trained EMTs. You got an emergency that needs policing or medical attention?”

She squinted into the sun, trying to gauge his shuttered expression. But it looked like he was biting back a grin.

“I suppose you think this is funny? The big bad landowner comes back to claim what’s hers and gets stranded on the side of the road in an October heat wave.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s not unfunny.”

She gritted her teeth and fought the urge to scream.

“Look,” he said, “I got a towing hitch and trailer I can put on the back of my truck. I can take you and your car to Pearl’s inn—I’m assuming you have a reservation at the most popular and only place to stay in the center of town—and someone from the shop will come grab it next Monday morning.”

Delaney winced. “Reservation?”

Sam nodded. “Meadow Valley Harvest Festival, remember? It’s the biggest thing next to the Fourth of July. Lots of family reunions. Inn fills up real fast. We got a little bit of their overflow, but most people here for the festival like to stay in town. We’re a bit off the beaten path.”

She glanced back at the car, then at Sam again. “It cools off at night, doesn’t it? I can just recline the seat and—”

“You’re kidding, right?” he interrupted. “You’re not actually considering sleeping in your car.”

She shrugged. “Look, I wasn’t planning on being in town overnight. So, no, I didn’t make any sort of reservation. Not like I can really afford it anyway, so if you don’t mind, the car will suit me just fine.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Will you just get in the truck?”

“Where are you taking me?” She didn’t like being at this guy’s mercy. She didn’t like being