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Her Cowboy Groom
Her Cowboy Groom
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Her Cowboy Groom

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Her Cowboy Groom
Trish Milburn

A place to healWhen Linnea Holland’s plans for her dream wedding collapse, she flees to the safest place she knows: Blue Falls, Texas. At her best friend’s family ranch, nobody asks for details. The Brody boys just welcome her with open arms and a whole lot of brotherly love.Trouble is, the feelings between Linnea and Owen Brody are a little warmer than that. They practically grew up together, but she has suddenly noticed that Owen has grown into one hot cowboy. And his protective instincts kick in when he sees how much Linnea is hurting. He’s the perfect antidote to her lying ex-fiancé.But can their feelings be love—or is Owen simply a guy she can rely on for the rebound?

“Lin, you’re not thinking straight.”

“I’m not looking for forever.” She placed her hand tentatively against his chest.

Though it pained him to do so, he grasped her hand and pulled it away before he did something irreversible. “You’re not a fling sort of woman.”

She looked up at him, and he saw a yearning in her eyes that was going to be damn hard to resist if he didn’t get her back inside where his dad and Garrett could serve as a barrier.

“Maybe a fling is exactly what I need.”

The woman was trying to kill him.

“I think we should go in.”

“Why?” She took a deep breath. “We’re both adults, Owen.” She paused again before continuing. “Ones with needs.”

He shook his head. “There are other ways to deal with those needs. Trust me.”

Linnea lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry. I evidently read things wrong.”

Her Cowboy Groom

Trish Milburn

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

TRISH MILBURN writes contemporary romance for the Mills & Boon® Cherish™ line and paranormal romance for the Mills & Boon® Nocturne™ series. She’s a two-time Golden Heart Award winner, a fan of walks in the woods and road trips, and a big geek girl, including being a dedicated Whovian and Browncoat. And from her earliest memories, she’s been a fan of Westerns, be they historical or contemporary. There’s nothing quite like a cowboy hero.

To all the lovely readers who have written to me about enjoying the Blue Falls, Texas series and asking when the next book will be out. That’s music to a writer’s ears. Thanks from the bottom of my heart for your interest and continued support.

Contents

Cover (#u47db02e7-8e37-5a98-8d4c-fda7a3b2e7b3)

Excerpt (#u7b84a915-bf86-5e88-9c53-0b95a06ca1c6)

Title Page (#ub02219db-6b9f-5b47-bfb3-8d9150583785)

About the Author (#u776c4c74-9735-5fda-b91c-e67c4cf98814)

Dedication (#ua073eb8c-91bd-5220-b068-d5cfcbe29c6a)

Chapter One (#ulink_7ae9935f-ba0f-5088-a9f6-043191df39b3)

Chapter Two (#ulink_d92560b8-98f2-5ee6-9f5e-4e724f840aed)

Chapter Three (#ulink_45763c8d-7e51-5dd7-8597-a65b48440bbe)

Chapter Four (#ulink_878a9b1d-0ed9-51e2-af11-09f65db48f00)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

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)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#ulink_4d2331cb-8928-5197-8df8-cb586546612f)

Linnea Holland only had five minutes before opening time for her bridal boutique and a busy day of catering to the romantic dreams of Dallas brides-to-be. Still, that was enough time for one more peek.

She hurried to the back of the building, to the room that held the most gorgeous wedding gown Linnea had ever seen. And it was hers. In two weeks, she would wear the Ellen Clare original design as she walked down the aisle toward her very own prince.

Okay, so Michael wasn’t an actual prince, but he certainly treated her like a queen. The past six months together had been a whirlwind of fancy dinners in fine restaurants, beautiful flower bouquets delivered to her at the store when he had to go out of town on business and an engagement ring that had taken her breath away. As she stood and stared at the dress with lace so delicate it looked as if it might float away into mist if she touched it, she still couldn’t believe she was going to be Mrs. Michael Benson. Sometimes she pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t in the longest, most realistic dream imaginable.

Not only was Michael a successful executive with a big investment firm and drop-dead gorgeous, but somehow out of all the women he could have, he’d chosen her, the middle daughter of two teachers. And it had all started when she accidentally bumped into him coming out of a coffee shop, dousing his crisp white shirt and designer suit with a caramel latte. She’d been mortified, and he’d asked her out on the spot, stunning her speechless. He’d just smiled until she’d remembered how to utter a “Yes.”

It had been the kind of first meeting you saw in movies, and the moment he asked her to marry him she’d been determined to make her wedding like something out of a fairy tale.

She glanced at the clock and hurried out of the room. She might have a fairy-tale wedding on the horizon, but until then she had a business to run. She reached the front door just as she heard Katrina, her business partner, coming in the back.

“Sorry I’m late,” Katrina called out.

Linnea turned the lock on the door, then headed toward the curved white counter in the middle of the store. “You’re not late.”

“Well, late for me,” Katrina said as she shoved her purse into a drawer behind the counter.

Linnea smiled at Katrina. “Considering you’re here at least half an hour early every day, I think one day of right on time isn’t going to mar your record.”

The truth was, Linnea couldn’t have asked for a better partner in her business. Katrina possessed a lot of business savvy, loved the boutique as much as Linnea did and was an excellent salesperson. Michael liked to tease them by calling them the odd couple because Katrina was petite with a stylish black bob, while Linnea stood several inches taller and had long, wavy red hair. They might look different, but in all the ways that mattered they were a perfect business match.

“So, how many times have you been back to stare at your dress this morning?” Katrina asked before taking a drink of her coffee.

“Only once.”

Katrina laughed a little. “Going into withdrawal yet?”

Linnea bumped Katrina’s shoulder with her own. Before she could think of an appropriate response, however, their first appointment of the day arrived— Rena Cavendish and her very demanding mother. Linnea put on her best smile and went to work.

By the time Rena’s mother finally agreed on the last of the details for her daughter’s wedding, Linnea felt as if she needed about twelve hours of sleep to recuperate. Still, she didn’t let her smile waver as the Cavendish women made their departure. It was her job to make them happy, to make them believe helping them was the absolute highlight of her day. Most of the time, she did love every minute of her job. But there was the occasional mother like Marilyn Cavendish or a true bridezilla who made keeping her smile from faltering extra challenging.

When Rena and Marilyn disappeared around the corner, Linnea felt like massaging her aching facial muscles. She glanced across the store to where Katrina was aiding a young bride who, by contrast, was as sweet as pie.

The door chime drew Linnea’s attention. A woman perhaps a few years older than her with blond hair pulled back in a chignon walked in.

“Good morning,” Linnea said, smiling more naturally this time. “How can I help you?”

“You’re Linnea Holland.” The fact that the words weren’t a question left Linnea with an odd feeling. Maybe it was the way the woman was staring at her without looking away.

“Yes. I’m sorry, have we met?”

“You’re engaged to Michael Benson?”

Linnea searched for a reason for the strange conversation. “I am. Do you know Michael?”

“You’re going to want to call off that wedding.”

Linnea jerked back a bit at the woman’s words and what seemed like anger barely banked below the surface. “And why would I do that?”

“Because he’s already married. To me.”

Linnea gripped the edge of the counter to steady herself. Before she realized Katrina had moved away from the customer she was helping, she was there next to Linnea, placing a comforting hand on her arm.

“Ma’am, what is the meaning of this?” Katrina said softly to shield her words from the young bride-to-be.

A glance in that direction, however, told Linnea that the unexpected conversation had not gone unnoticed.

The woman also looked toward the customer. The latter held a wedding gown in front of her as she looked in the mirror and failed to do a very convincing job of pretending she wasn’t listening to them. Shifting her gaze back to Linnea, the woman claiming to be Michael’s wife stepped closer.

“Listen, I’m not accusing you of husband stealing or anything.”

“Good, because I’m not,” Linnea said with more than a little heat in her response. She wanted this woman and her crazy accusations to go away.

The sympathy that appeared in the other woman’s eyes scared Linnea more than anything she’d said.

“My name is Danielle Benson. Michael and I have been married for six years.”

Linnea shook her head. “No, you’re wrong.”

“I assure you I’m not.” Danielle pulled a photo out of her purse and placed it atop the counter.

Linnea’s breath caught as she stared down at a photo of Michael, a little younger, in a tux and holding the hands of the woman who now stood in front of Linnea. The younger version of Danielle wore a wedding gown and was looking up at Michael as if she couldn’t believe she’d gotten so lucky. Linnea knew that feeling. Again, she shook her head. “Photos are remarkably easy to manipulate.”

Danielle patted her purse. “I have a copy of our marriage license.”

“All that would prove is that you were married at one point.” Sure, Michael had said nothing about being married before, but she needed to believe that if he ever had been he was now divorced. The alternative was just too horrible to be believed. Her Michael wouldn’t do something like that.

“I know this is hard to hear, and trust me when I tell you that it isn’t any easier to say. I didn’t want to believe my husband was cheating on me, but when I found out that he was actually planning to marry someone else, someone who had no idea he was already married... Well, I knew I couldn’t let him hurt you like he has me.”

“No, this can’t be right. You’re mistaken. There are probably lots of Michael Bensons.” Even as Linnea tried to explain away Danielle’s claims, doubt began to seep in like water finding the cracks in a rock. There might be a lot of Michael Bensons, but they didn’t look like her Michael. Linnea’s hearing seemed to fade, and the world around her started to spin in nauseating circles as Danielle explained how she’d hired a private investigator to follow Michael and that the PI was the one who’d relayed that Linnea was totally unaware of Michael’s marital status.

In the blink of an eye, the meager contents of Linnea’s stomach staged a revolt that sent her racing for the bathroom. She slammed the door behind her and made it to the toilet just in time. After she finally stopped retching, she found she didn’t have the strength to push herself up from the floor. And then the tears came.

She needed to call Michael, to straighten this mess out. But as she sat on the floor in her favorite teal pencil skirt, doubts and questions began to peck at her like the beaks of sinister birds. The fact that she’d never met Michael’s parents, how he’d never taken her to any company function and all the long business trips. She strangled on a sob when she considered those trips hadn’t been for business at all but that he’d been going home to his wife.

A knock on the door was followed by Katrina’s voice. “Are you okay?”

No, she wasn’t okay. She might never be okay again.

When Linnea didn’t answer, Katrina opened the door.

“Oh, hon.” Katrina kneeled beside her and pushed an errant lock of hair back behind Linnea’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Linnea met her friend’s gaze. “You believe her?”

The sympathy on Katrina’s face, different from Danielle’s but no less devastating, caused Linnea’s insides to twist into painful knots. “Is she still here?”

“No, she left.”

“Please bring me my phone.”

“Don’t you think you should give yourself a few minutes?”

“No. I need to know the truth now.”

Katrina left and returned a few moments later with the phone. Linnea’s hands were shaking so much she nearly fumbled the phone right into the toilet.

“You want me to dial for you?”

Linnea shook her head. Katrina knew her well enough that she stepped out of the bathroom, leaving Linnea alone. Linnea closed the door and somehow managed to dial Michael’s cell number. She didn’t think she’d be able to handle it if she got his voice mail, but part of her dreaded talking to him, too.

“Hey there,” he answered, startling her. “How’s my favorite girl?”

A surge of pure anger raced through her veins. “I just met your wife.”

Please deny it. Please say it isn’t true, that Danielle is a crazy woman.

But as moments passed without a response from Michael, Linnea’s heart broke completely in two. Her dreams shattered around her like exploding glass.