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Texas On My Mind
Delores Fossen
The McCord Brothers are the most eligible bachelors in Spring Hill, Texas. But these cowboys are about to get wrangled by the love of some very unique women—the kind who can melt hearts and lay it all on the line.Air force Captain Riley McCord has come home on medical leave to find one heck of a welcome reception. Every unattached woman in Spring Hill, Texas, wants to nurse him back to health. That includes his childhood friend Claire Davidson—the only person who understands how damaged he really feels. In high school, she chose his best friend over him. According to Riley’s rules, that should make her off-limits forever. But when Claire suggests a no-strings fling, he can’t refuse.Claire always wanted Riley—but she also craved the safety and stability he couldn’t offer. So she chose another path, only to end up crazier about him than ever. She’s even convinced herself that this time she won’t be devastated when he leaves. Yet once Riley realizes the depth of Claire’s feelings—and his own—he'll have to make the ultimate choice: return to the job he loves or stay home for the woman who's always lived in his heart."Clear off a space on your keeper shelf, Fossen has arrived." —New York Times bestselling author Lori Wilde
The McCord Brothers are the most eligible bachelors in Spring Hill, Texas. But these cowboys are about to get wrangled by the love of some very unique women—the kind who can melt hearts and lay it all on the line.
Air force captain Riley McCord has come home on medical leave to find one heck of a welcome reception. Every unattached woman in Spring Hill, Texas, wants to nurse him back to health. That includes his childhood friend Claire Davidson—the only person who understands how damaged he really feels. In high school, she chose his best friend over him. According to Riley’s rules, that should make her off-limits forever. But when Claire suggests a no-strings fling, he can’t refuse.
Claire always wanted Riley—but she also craved the safety and stability he couldn’t offer. So she chose another path, only to end up crazier about him than ever. She’s even convinced herself that this time she won’t be devastated when he leaves. Yet once Riley realizes the depth of Claire’s feelings—and his own—he’ll have to make the ultimate choice: return to the job he loves or stay home for the woman who’s always lived in his heart.
Praise for Delores Fossen (#ulink_8ff6840e-be4e-50f3-a28d-a24e48d7a5fe)
“The perfect blend of sexy cowboys, humor and romance will rein you in from the first line.”
—New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels
“From the shocking opening paragraph on, Fossen’s tale just keeps getting better.”
—RT Book Reviews on Sawyer, 4½ stars, Top Pick
“Rustling Up Trouble is action packed, but it’s the relationship and emotional drama (and the sexy hero) that will reel readers in.”
—RT Book Reviews, 4½ stars
“While not lacking in action or intrigue, it’s the romance of two unlikely people that soars.”
—RT Book Reviews on Maverick Sheriff, 4 stars
Texas on My Mind
Texas on My Mind
What Happens on the Ranch (Bonus)
Delores Fossen
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Cover (#u86e240d3-4829-5489-a104-d4435e4068d5)
Back Cover Text (#u3f367b9e-3171-5ddc-96b9-ea3b150de5cf)
Praise (#ulink_79c605b7-2591-5db8-a700-9cfe1e690c06)
Title Page (#ub063e2a2-3e7f-5e61-b458-062f143291a9)
Dedication (#u68757a80-f08b-58aa-bf32-01c4cceaa5f9)
Texas on My Mind (#ulink_9d10375b-1901-5dc6-a561-eed21030d8b2)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_acb79253-4c65-5a5d-b4ba-597a62581bc9)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_58916842-76cc-5637-b5f5-671cc91c55f8)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_895b6df8-0921-56a4-82e3-4b29ba93c4cd)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_bec4413e-6fcc-54bb-bba2-8b9e128569f5)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_f52844d7-b3a6-59fd-83cd-66108f95dabe)
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_111f96be-b2fd-562e-bce8-3493190e7645)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_b8ebbc54-61f3-5ddb-bb43-02e592b4939d)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
What Happens on the Ranch (Bonus) (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
To my wonderful editor, Allison Lyons
Texas on My Mind (#ulink_36a7c512-9009-5d1e-9209-4472c93a90cf)
Delores Fossen
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_bff9f860-f434-592a-8ce0-abcfa61334cf)
THERE WERE TWO women in Captain Riley McCord’s bed. Women wearing cutoff shorts, skinny tops and flip-flops.
Riley blinked a couple of times to make sure they weren’t by-products of his pain meds and bone-deep exhaustion. Nope. They were real enough because he could hear them breathing.
See them breathing, too.
The lamp on the nightstand was on, the milky-yellow light spilling over them. Their tops holding in those C-cups were doing plenty of moving with each breath they took.
He caught a glimpse of a nipple.
If he’d still been a teenager, Riley might have considered having two women in his bed a dream come true. Especially in this room. He’d grown up in this house, had had plenty of fantasies in that very bed. But he was thirty-one now, and with his shoulder throbbing like an abscessed tooth, taking on two women didn’t fall into fantasy territory. More like suicide.
Besides, man-rule number two applied here: don’t do anything half-assed. Anything he attempted right now would be significantly less than half and would make an ass out of him.
Who the hell were they?
And why were they there in his house, in his bed?
The place was supposed to be empty since he’d called ahead and given the cook and housekeeper the week off. The sisters, Della and Stella, had pretty much run the house since Riley’s folks had been killed in a car wreck thirteen years ago. Clearing out the pair hadn’t been easy, but he’d used his captain’s I’m-giving-the-orders-here voice.
For once it had worked.
His kid sister was away at college. His older brother Lucky was God knew where. Lucky’s twin, Logan, was on a business trip and wouldn’t be back for at least another week. Even when Logan returned, he’d be spending far more time running the family’s cattle brokerage company than actually in the house. That lure of emptiness was the only reason Riley had decided to come here for some peace and quiet.
And so that nobody would see him wincing and grunting in pain.
Riley glanced around to try to figure out who the women were and why they were there. When he checked the family room, he saw a clue by the fireplace. A banner. Well, sort of. He flicked on the lights to get a better look. It was a ten-foot strip of white crepe paper.
Welcome Home, Riley, Our Hero, was written on it.
The black ink had bled, and the tape on one side had given way, and now it dangled and coiled like a soy-sauced ramen noodle.
There were bowls of chips, salsa and other food on the coffee table next to a picture of him in his uniform. Someone had tossed flag confetti all around the snacks, and some of the red, white and blue sparkles had landed on the floor and sofa. In the salsa, too.
Apparently, this was supposed to be the makings of a homecoming party for him.
Whoever had done this probably hadn’t counted on his flight from the base in Germany being delayed nine hours. Riley hadn’t counted on it, either. Now, it was three in the morning, and he darn sure didn’t want to celebrate.
Or have women in his bed.
And he hoped it didn’t lower his testosterone a couple of notches to have an unmanly thought like that.
Riley put his duffel bag on the floor. Not quietly, but the women didn’t stir even an eyelash. He considered just waking them, but heck, that would require talking to them, and the only thing he wanted right now was another hit of pain meds and a place to collapse.
He went to the bedroom next to his. A guest room. No covers or pillows, which would mean a hunt to find some. That sent him to Lucky’s room on the other side of the hall. Covers, yes, but there was another woman asleep facedown with her sleeve-tattooed arm dangling off the side. There was also a saddle on the foot of the bed. Thankfully, Riley’s mind was too clouded to even want to consider why it was there.
Getting desperate now and feeling a little like Goldilocks in search of a “just right” place to crash, he went to Logan’s suite, the only other bedroom downstairs. Definitely covers there. He didn’t waste the energy to turn on the light to have a closer look; since this was Logan’s space, it would no doubt be clean enough to pass a military inspection.
No saddles or women, thank God, and he wouldn’t have to climb the stairs that he wasn’t sure he could climb anyway.
Riley popped a couple of pain meds and dropped down on the bed, his eyes already closing before his head landed against something soft and crumbly. He considered investigating it. Briefly considered it. But when it didn’t bite, shoot or scald him, he passed on the notion of an investigation.
Whatever was soft and crumbly would just have to wait.
* * *
RILEY JACKKNIFED IN Logan’s bed, the pain knocking the breath right out of him. Without any kind of warning, the nightmare that he’d been having had morphed into a full-fledged flashback.
Sometimes he could catch the flashback just as it was bubbling to the surface, and he could stomp it back down with his mental steel-toed combat boots. Sometimes humming “Jingle Bells” helped.
Not this time, though.
The flashback had him by the throat before Riley could even get out a single note of that stupid song he hated. Why had his brain chosen that little Christmas ditty to blur out the images anyway?
The smell came first. Always the fucking smell. The dust and debris whipped up by the chopper. The Pave Hawk blades slicing through the dirt-colored smoke. But not drowning out the sounds.
He wasn’t sure how sounds like that could make it through the thump of the blades, the shouts, screams and the chaos. But they did. The sounds always did.
Someone was calling for help in a dialect Riley barely understood. But you didn’t need to know the words to hear the fear.
Or smell it.
