Easton Montgomery demands control and order. He’s purposely kept to himself, no strings and no nonsense. Preferring to be in charge of his destiny, keeping his life neat and tidy, all wrapped up. Life is perfect, until the bow comes undone and his world completely unravels.
Jessica Pierce left Denver years ago with nothing more than her clothes and a need for a brand new beginning. After planting roots where her car broke down, life was good for a while. Then the ranch owner who helped her rebuild her life threw her a curve ball. Now she’s the new girl in Renlend, Kansas on the Montgomery’s ranch, and their son Easton is a constant source of frustration and distraction. Getting her hands around the veterinarian’s neck and squeezing, looks better by the day.
After a week of stepping around each other, dodging barbed comments, and Jessica’s smart mouth, Easton realizes she’s got more fire than any other woman he’s met. Suddenly Easton wonders if this curvy, blonde spitfire might just be the challenge he’s been waiting for.
Easton closed in on her, effectively trapping her between the truck and the open door. He’d meant to intimidate her into speaking, instead he was encircled by the scents of her shampoo and soap, both floral and light. Very feminine, despite the hard work of being a farm hand. Her eyes dilated rapidly before she glanced toward the dessert and away from him.
“Can you please back the hell up?”
“I want to know what you’re not telling me.”
“If you’re so damned concerned, why don’t you ask your father? Better yet, go ask your mother. It’s not my place to say a fucking word, Easton Montgomery. Now stop putting me in the middle, get the hell out of my personal space and quit acting like some macho tough ass who thinks I’m some little lady he can boss around. Never gonna happen.”
“What’s never gonna happen?” He tipped his head. She sucked in a quick rush of air, loud enough for him to read her mind. English was his first language obviously. Sign language, though he was learning, he was far from fluent. But body language—he was a self-professed expert. She hadn’t meant for the last three words to slip from her mouth.
Easton leaned in, “For the record, you’re as gorgeous as you think you are.” She attempted to spin away, but the confined space kept her facing him.
“Unlike you…I don’t think I’m gorgeous, Mr. God’s Gift to Women.”
“Are you saying, you think I’m an egotistical, arrogant ass with a black book for late night booty calls?”
Jessica grinned, her mouth tipped up in a pursed, cute little bow, her hands went to her shapely hips. “I didn’t say it. You did.”
“What are you, ten?”
“I thought I’d better dumb down my vocabulary and sentiments for you to comprehend.”
Easton folded his arms across his chest before he laid them on her. For the first time he found himself surrounded by people and not caring he had an audience. He wanted nothing more than to shut her contrite pink lips up by hauling her up against him and taking control of the situation before she got too out of hand.
“What’s Mom doing?” He tried to pull his thoughts away from the erotic pictures building in his head.
“She’s sitting at the kitchen table writing recipes down for me. Ones she says are in her head. There, are you satisfied, yet?”
The little head jerk she gave to accentuate her point nearly did him in. Easton smirked, holding onto every fiber of not only his temper, but his desire. “Not nearly, darling.”
“I’m not your darling. I’m not your honey, sweetheart, doll face—your nothing. Not now, not ever. I’m here for your mom, your dad and more importantly, Roscoe. If it wasn’t for the fact that in a very short time, I’ve grown to really like your parents and I need a place for my horse—you’d be eating gravel about now.”
Her skin was tinged with the most beautiful shade of pink. Her blue eyes had darkened and her pulse had spiked. Easton knew she was bluffing with every bold-faced lie she spoke. He lifted his chin, daring her to continue. She opened her mouth, he lifted his brow…waiting. She narrowed her eyes at him and clamped her mouth shut.
Amy Gregory leads an incredibly active lifestyle in Kansas City with her husband and their three fantastic kids who keep them running in three very different directions. When she’s not rushing her oldest daughter to tumbling, her youngest daughter to music lessons, or sitting track-side watching her son practice motocross, she’s taking the few minutes in between to scribble the next pages in her Racing to Love series. When asked, “When do you have time to write?” Amy Gregory giggles. “In bits and pieces,” she says. Amy is known for her snarky, off the cuff sense of humor, which you’ll find shining through in the characters she’s created.