Page 69 of Stirring Attraction (Second Shot 2)
The edges of his mouth curved into another smile. “I haven’t seen you around before.”
“I—I’m not around much, but Sammy Jo here,” she said, motioning toward her friend to divert his attention, “used to race barrels. You must know her. Sammy Jo Macpherson?”
Jace gave her friend a brief nod. “I believe we’ve met.”
“Del’s a great photographer,” Sammy Jo said, bouncing the attention back to her.
Jace grinned. “I bet.”
“It’s the lens,” Delaney said, averting her gaze, and Sammy Jo shot her a disgruntled look as if to say, Smarten up, this guy’s in to you. Don’t blow it!
Except she had no desire to get involved in a relationship right now. And definitely not one with a hunter. She needed to focus on her two-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Meghan, and help her family’s guest ranch bring in enough money to support them.
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An Excerpt from
ONCE AND FOR ALL
An American Valor Novel
By Cheryl Etchison
Staff Sergeant Danny MacGregor has always said military and matrimony don’t mix, but if there’s one person he would break all his rules for, it’s Bree—his first friend, first love, first everything.
Bree Dunbar has battled cancer, twice. What she wants most is a fresh start. By some miracle her wish is granted, but it comes with one major string attached—the man who broke her heart ten years before.
The rules for this marriage of convenience are simple: when she’s ready to stand on her own two feet, she’ll walk away and he’ll let her go. Only, things don’t always go according to plan . . .
She pulled into the garage of her parents’ home and stared in the rearview mirror at the house across the street where Danny used to live. The same one where he was now staying. She had no idea how much longer he’d be in town, but odds weren’t in her favor he would just leave her be. She’d thrown down the gauntlet and Daniel Patrick MacGregor had never been one to back down from a challenge.
Hitting the garage remote, the house slowly disappeared from view as the door lowered to the ground. Bree headed inside, her mother greeting her at the back door as she opened it.
“Can I help you carry some things in?” she asked while drying her hands on a dish towel.
“Nothing to bring in.”
Bree scooted past her mother, not yet ready to rehash the morning’s e
vents.
“I thought you were going to the store?”
“I’ll go back later.”
She grabbed the ibuprofen from the cabinet by the sink, the dull ache behind her eyes now reaching epic proportions. After swallowing two small tablets with a single drink of water, she headed for her bedroom.
“Is everything okay, sweetheart? You look flushed.”
“Fine,” she said, ducking out of her mother’s reach. Twenty-eight years old and her mother still wanted to check her temperature with the back of her hand.
“Are you sure? You’re not running a fever, are you? Your immune system still isn’t where it needs to be. You need to be careful—”
“I’m fine, Mom. I swear. Just going to lie down for a bit.”
Bree darted upstairs, escaping to the relative peace and quiet of her bedroom. She closed the door behind her, sighing in relief to see her mother wasn’t hot on her heels.
She loved her dearly and wouldn’t have survived chemo treatments without her, but sometimes her mother’s care and concern was too much. Suffocating. And despite her best intentions, she was always reminding Bree that she’d been very sick, when all Bree wanted to do was put it behind her.
