Sasha Summers - A Son For The Cowboy

IT’S TIME TO DADDY UP!

For retired rodeo queen Poppy White, settling down in the picturesque little town of Stonewall Crossing, Texas, had seemed ideal. Until Toben Boone showed up on her doorstep. It had been a lifetime since their explosive one-night encounter in Cheyenne. Her son Rowdy’s lifetime. And she hadn’t heard a word since.

Toben was still easy on the eyes, still able to set her pulse racing—and still breaking the hearts of buckle bunnies all over the circuit, she had no doubt. But if he thought his boyish cowboy charm, dangerous dimples and baby blues were going to sweep her off her feet again, he was in for a big surprise. A big six-year-old surprise!

“This doesn’t need to be difficult, just let me tell him you are...you. Okay?”

Toben stared at her, her words making no sense. “You lost me.”

She glared at him, pure hostility rolling off her tiny frame. “Rowdy knows Toben Boone is his father. But you didn’t introduce yourself, so he doesn’t know you are Toben Boone. I’d rather have that conversation with him, alone. Like we’ve been for the last seven years.”

Toben felt numb all over. “Rowdy?” He swallowed, unable to breathe, to think, to process what the hell she was saying.

“That was Rowdy,” she repeated, her irritation mounting. She looked ready to rip into him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Poppy. But if you’re trying to tell me I’m a father...” He sucked in a deep breath, his chest hurting so bad he pressed a hand over his heart. “Don’t you think you waited a little long to tell me I have a son?”

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to Stonewall Crossing! The Boones (and I) are happy you stopped by! The brothers might be happily married, but there are plenty of Boones in need of a match.

Toben Boone spent his life avoiding love and commitment, and he didn’t think he was missing a thing. Of course, that’s when love normally comes knocking. Love, in Toben’s case, comes wrapped up in the feisty form of Poppy White. The one woman who made him feel something deep down in his heart.

Poppy White was ready to start her new life off the rodeo circuit. She and her son, Rowdy, can’t wait to make their little farm and Stonewall Crossing home. But running into the sweet-talking, lady-chasing, heart-breaking cowboy that left her high and dry when she needed help most is anything but a pleasant surprise. Having Toben Boone around stirs up all sorts of feelings, some good, some not so good, and she’s not sure what to do about it.

I adore this story—all the passion and hurt and fun and healing warmed my heart. I hope their love story speaks to you, too. Be on the lookout for Tandy’s book this winter. Nothing like a dreamy cowboy to warm things up on a cold night. I love to hear from readers, so drop me an email anytime at sasha@sashasummers.com.

Thanks so much for reading!

Sasha

A Son for the Cowboy

Sasha Summers

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SASHA SUMMERS grew up surrounded by books. Her passions have always been storytelling, romance and travel. Whether it’s an easy-on-the-eyes cowboy or a hero of truly mythic proportions, Sasha falls a little in love with each and every one of her heroes. She frequently gets lost with her characters in the worlds she creates, forgetting those everyday tasks like laundry and dishes. Luckily, her four brilliant children and hero-inspiring hubby are super understanding and helpful.

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This is for all the couples that had to fall apart to fall back together again. Love is never easy.

Thank you to my brainstorming partners, Joni Hahn, Marnie Culver and Frances Kiana, and to my amazing, fantastic readers!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Poppy tucked a brown curl behind her ear and rested her chin on her steering wheel, admiring the denim-clad rear of the big, brawny cowboy peering in the picture window of her newly purchased storefront. Those jeans should be downright illegal. Or the rear that was wearing them should. Something about a nice butt in a work-worn pair of Wranglers got her every time. Hey, she appreciated beauty where she saw it.

“This it, Ma?” Rowdy asked, his sleep-thickened voice ending her ogling.

“This is it,” she said, smiling at her son as she climbed out of her truck. She’d spent hours planning out the remodel for the shop. The place was perfect for what she had in mind, just perfect—oozing country charm, cowboy mystique and simpler times. She could envision shiny belt buckles, bits and bridles in the glass case at the register. The hats and boots along the back wall. Clothing on the left, housewares on the right. Everything cowboy, everything quality and everything unique. With all her contacts from the rodeo circuit, she knew she’d be able to give her patrons the best possible quality. She couldn’t wait to get started. “Want to go inside?”

Rowdy shrugged, unbuckling his seat belt. “Sure.” He yawned, barely waking up. It had been a long car ride and the kids had been as good as gold. Not a complaint among them. A rarity, really.

“What do you two think?” she asked, opening the back door of her four-door diesel truck. “We can poke around, see how the contractor’s doing on the shelving, then go get some breakfast? Then head out to the new place. There’ll be plenty of room to run there.”

Her niece and nephew looked at her, their lack of interest or enthusiasm no longer surprising her.

“Good, let’s go,” she said, pulling the store keys from her pocket and climbing onto the wooden porch.

“Can’t we eat first?” Otis asked.

“Yeah, I’m hungry, too,” Dot added.

“Soon we will,” she promised, ignoring the grating tone they used. They tended toward that nasal whine to wear down a person’s resistance until they got what they wanted. Poppy refused to buckle. She was excited—hoped they’d get excited, too.

“Chill,” Rowdy said, less patient than she was. “You just ate a granola bar and an apple. You’re not starving.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, not wanting things to escalate between them. Even if he was right.

“So it’s true? You’re the new owner?” Mr. Cute-Butt Cowboy asked.

She nodded, glancing his way. And stared. No. No. No. This isn’t fair. Not now. Not here. Toben Boone cannot be here.

“I had to see it with my own two eyes.” He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, smiling, dimples showing. “Poppy White. Out of the saddle and—” his eyes traveled over the kids “—domesticated.” She stared. Speechless.