COWBOY BY L.B. DUNBAR
Release Date: March 1, 2021
Pregnant at forty-two? Back the cow up…
Harland Bull Eaton has lost many things—his first wife, his beloved mother, those three women he proposed to . . . Oh, and there was that time he almost lost the family dairy farm due to a scandal. He’s losing faith in just about everything, especially love.
But one night, his friends give him a dare. No commitments. No heartbreak. Just buy that gorgeous redhead a drink. The big-city bombshell he’s set his eyes on swirls him into a tailspin that lands them in bed for a one-night stand he’s pretty sure he’ll never forget. But this time, he swears, he won’t let his heart ride herd on his common sense.
Recently separated and newly unemployed, Scarlett Russell is at a crossroads. With no other plan than visiting a friend in Vermont, the last thing she expects is a hunky, silver fox offering to buy her a drink. Even less expected is when she raises that offer to “take me to bed, cowboy.” She just wants one night to forget everything gone wrong.
Turns out once won’t be nearly enough. Won’t ever be enough, feeling the way she does. But secrets and an unexpected surprise are a lot to handle . . . unless these two can break a trail to an unexpected happily ever after.
“A coffee, black, no sugar, no cream, and a caramel macchiato with exactly five drizzles of caramel, fifteen pumps of vanilla syrup, whipped cream, and an extra shot.”
What the . . .
Thank God, I did not take that order. I don’t even know what that is. There’s a pause and I’m wondering what’s happening when Bull says, “You have a little something . . .”
I just want to die a slow death as I imagine him swiping at the corner of her lip or wiping off her nose and that sweet, tender touch will be all the spark she needs to want to pounce on this man behind me. Bull has these deep blue eyes and that silver speckled scruff, plus his hair that looks artfully streaked with gray. He’s just all around sexy and he doesn’t even know it about himself. Then, his touch. The soft strokes down my body and the delicate dips of his fingers, I just can’t—
“Have either of you seen Scarlett?” Audrey asks.
“Scarlett?” Bull chokes behind me.
“Yeah, Scarlett. She’s our newest barista and I swear she was out here.”
“I didn’t see anyone,” Vermont Barbie states. “But then again, I’ve only been looking at Bull.”
Okay, that’s enough.
“Found it,” I say, popping up from behind the couch and holding my fingers pinched together like I’ve just found gold in them there wood floorboards.
“Scarlett?” Audrey blinks at me with those expressive eyes of hers . She’s a petite blond with a lot of power behind her personality. I slowly stand but find myself dizzy as I do and grip the back of the couch for support.
“Whoa.” I blurt, unable to stop myself as the room spins and my legs tremble. My skin runs cold, but I break out in a full body sweat.
“Scarlett, are you okay?” Audrey asks, rushing to the edge of the couch while Bull quickly stands to face me.
“I . . . yeah, I just think I stood up too fast.” However, that isn’t the full explanation because that rush to my head has now settled back down to my belly.
“You sure you’re okay? You look a little gray,” Audrey asks.
“I . . . excuse me.” Rushing around the couch, I fight the pull to look at Bull, as I disappear behind the counter, bypassing our waiting customers with one finger in the air, and then press out the door to the grassy area behind the building for some much needed fresh air. Once outside, I promptly bend forward and heave.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” Audrey says behind me and I close my eyes, embarrassed by my position in front of my boss. Audrey’s younger than me, but a good, business woman and kind-hearted. She took me on without any prior experience in the coffee industry.
“Yeah. Just something I ate, I think.” I honestly don’t know. It’s been a few weeks like this, nausea, fatigue, and then if I do get sick, which doesn’t always happen, I feel a million times better once I vomit. “I just have a little stomach bug, but I don’t have a fever. I’m so sorry about this.” I point to the grass which holds no evidence of how my stomach felt. “And that.” I nod toward the café.
Audrey’s brows crease as she examines my face. “What else is wrong? As far as how you are feeling?”
I consider it a second and then answer. “My boobs hurt. My back kills. And I had a tuna fish sandwich for breakfast the other day. I think there was something wrong with the mayonnaise.” Then I reconsider what I’ve said. That sandwich the other morning had been the best damn tuna fish in the world and the last thing I’d ever eat when it comes to a breakfast item.
Audrey’s lips slowly curl and her eyes spark like she knows something. “Scarlett, could you be pregnant?”
“What? No. Heaven’s no. Absolutely not. I . . .” I stare back at her, horrified at the notion. I’m forty-two. I’m recently divorced. I cannot be pregnant at this stage of my life.
“No. I am definitely not pregnant.”