Cal pulled her out of the booth and scooped her into his arms. “I’m takin’ you home so you can practice all you want.”
She gave him a sticky-sweet kiss. “Drive fast.”
***
WAIT! You’re not done! Turn the page to read Lorelei James’ announcement about her new, exciting project that readers have been waiting for…
Dear Reader,
When I ended the Rough Riders series in June 2014 with the last full length book, Cowboy Take Me Away, I promised my readers two things:
First, that I wouldn’t leave the Rough Riders world entirely. When time permitted—and when inspiration struck—I’d write sneak peeks at the after the happily-ever-after like I did with the couples in Short Rides.
But as I started a story for Carter and Macie, and Colby and Channing for Short Rides 2, Cal McKay and Kimi West butted in and demanded I tell the origins of their love story first. So I did that with this novella, Long Time Gone. Never fear, I will write stories for the rest of the couples between working on other projects!
Second, I also promised my readers I wouldn’t leave them hanging forever, waiting for Sierra Daniels McKay and Boone West, the young star-crossed lovers I introduced in Gone Country, Rough Riders book 14, published in December 2012, to get their story.
In my fictional world, Sierra and Boone, at ages sixteen and eighteen, needed time to grow up. In the real world, I needed time to figure out what to do with them. Since the main characters fall into both the McKay and West families, I could’ve put their story in either the Rough Riders world, or in the Wild West Boys world. Or I could start a whole new series. It was the “new” series that got me to thinking. Why not do a spin-off of the existing series?
Hence, the Rough Riders Legacy series has been born!
These third generation McKays and Wests are younger, for the most part, than their McKay parents were when they met, fell in love, and settled down. Since I’ve been forbidden from allowing anything to happen to the first generation (Carson and Carolyn, Cal and Kimi, Charlie and Vi, Joan) who were in their eighties at the end of Cowboy Take Me Away, this spin-off series will take place in the ten-year timespan between the last chapter and the epilogue of Cowboy Take Me Away.
What exactly does that mean? Since the characters in the Rough Riders Legacy series will be college-aged, their stories fall into the New Adult category of romance. Sierra, Kyler, and Hayden will be living away from the McKay stronghold in Wyoming. Not only will this allow them to learn to make their own ways; it also won’t be necessary for new readers to be familiar with all 20+ installments in the original Rough Riders series to follow the stories.
I’m so excited to bring my readers something new, and yet something they’ve been asking for!
Lorelei James ~ June 2015
Without further ado… Read on for the first look at the long-awaited story that reunites Sierra Daniels McKay and Boone West…
Exclusive excerpt
Unbreak My Heart
LJLA, LLC copyright 2015
I blame everything on the fever.
Everything.
My nausea.
My surliness.
My weepiness.
My utter lack of a reaction when he strolls into the exam room.
He gapes at me like I’m an apparition.
I continue to look at him blankly, as if it’s no big deal he’s here, right in front of me, wearing scrubs and a cloak of authority.
But the truth is I haven’t seen him for six years.
Six. Years.
I should be in shock—maybe I’m in too much shock. This definitely falls under the heading of trauma. Because on the day he waltzes back into my life? I look worse than dog diarrhea.
I mentally kick myself for not going to the ER. Or perhaps just letting myself die. Anything would be better than this.
Screw you, universe. Fuck you, fate. Karma, you bitch, you owe me.
This chance meeting should’ve happened when I’m dressed to the nines, not when I sport yoga pants, a ratty Three Stooges T-shirt, dollar store flip-flops and no bra. And the bonus? My hair is limp, my skin clammy, my face shiny from the raging fever I can’t shake.
Wait. Maybe this is a fever-induced nightmare.
“Sierra?” The beautiful apparition speaks my name in a deep, sexy rasp.
Pretend you don’t know him.
Not my most stellar plan, but I go with it.
I cock my head and frown as if I can’t quite place him.
His expressive brown eyes turn hard. “That’s really how you’re gonna play this? Like you don’t know me?”
I return his narrow-eyed stare because I’m too sick to fake an air of boredom.
“Fine. I’m Boone West. Your med tech,” he says sarcastically. “I’m here to take your vitals.”
I shake my head. My inability to respond isn’t from pettiness—I lost my voice yesterday, due to this fever. But my middle finger works fine and I use it to point at the door as I mouth, “Get. Out.”
“Nice try. But keep your arm out like that so I can take your blood pressure.”
My heart rate skyrockets, so no freakin’ way is he putting a blood pressure cuff and a stethoscope on me.
Boone moves in cautiously as if I’m a feral creature. He smiles—not the sweet, boyish grin I once loved—but one brimming with fake benevolence.
My belly flips, which pisses me off. And I wish projectile vomiting was my superpower instead of this uncanny ability to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, every time.
I jerk away from him.
“Look, Sierra,” he says reasonably. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here. Not like this. Let me do my job and we’ll talk afterward.”
I shake my head so hard my vision goes wonky.
“It’s not like you have a choice.”
Wrong. In full panic mode, I bail off the exam table and hug the wall, facing him as I creep toward the door.
“Whoa. Slow down. You came into the clinic because you’re sick. You can’t just leave.”
My throat feels like I gargled with gravel, but I manage, “Watch me.”
Then I throw open the door and book it down the hallway.
But my fever has the last laugh.
My body chooses that moment to fail me. Chills erupt as if I’ve been plunged into a deep freezer, followed by sweat breaking out as if I’ve been baking in the Arizona desert. White spots obscure my vision.
I sway before everything goes dark.
***
“She’s coming around.”
I recognize that voice.
Dr. Monroe.
I peel my eyes open and notice I’m back in the exam room.
“Hey girl. How’re you doin’?”
Girl. She seems to have forgotten that I’m not a girl, but a twenty-two-year-old college graduate with the world by the balls.
“I need to poke around, so lie still.” She lifts my shirt and starts palpating my belly. For such a tiny thing, she pushes hard enough on my innards that I swear I feel her fingers poking the inside of my spine.
“Nothing out of the ordinary. Can you sit up?”
As soon as I’m upright, the whooshing sensation starts in my ears. My eyes burn but I can clearly see that Boone blocks the door. I grit out, “He goes.”
Doc Monroe gets right in my face. “A patient who acts like they’re trying to escape and then passes out in a waiting room full of people is hell on my reputation, Sierra McKay. Boone stays. You’re lucky he acted so fast and caught you before you hit the floor.”
“How did I…?” I gesture to the surrounding area.
“I carried you,” Boone said. “You snuggled right into me. Strange behavior from someone who doesn’t know me.”
Goddammit. I hate this. I hate him. I level my best glare at his smarmy face.
He remains stoic.
Yeah, you were always good at hiding your emotions, weren’t you?
“Sounds like you’ve got
laryngitis too,” Doc Monroe says. “Boone, you didn’t get her vitals?”
“No, ma’am. Under the circumstances, maybe it’s best if you do that.”
The doc’s gaze locks to mine.
“He has to go,” I croak out.
“Sergeant West is here by government order, finishing the four week training stint in rural healthcare that the army requires for medical personnel at his level.”
She didn’t have to explain that to me. In fact, I really didn’t want to know.
Doc sighs and takes my temperature, which tips the thermometer at a toasty 103 degrees. She checks my eyes, my ears and my nose. She presses her thumbs down the center of my neck and beneath my jaw. She listens to my lungs. Lastly, she shoves a tongue depressor in my mouth and shines a light in my throat while demanding I say aaaaah.
She pats my knee. “It appears you’ve got strep. But I’ll send Sarah in from the lab for a throat culture to make sure.”
No wonder I feel shitty and none of Rielle’s natural home remedies worked on me.
Doc Monroe pokes the call button before she plops on the rolling stool and types on her laptop.
I stare at my knees, grateful I’m not wearing a drafty exam gown that leaves me even more exposed.
To Boone fucking West.
Two knocks sound on the door.
Boone steps aside as the lab tech hustles in.
“One quick swipe is all I need, no pokey pokes for blood tests,” she chirps merrily.
I gag when she jams the long cotton swab into my throat and swirls it around.
“All done,” she says with way too much fucking cheer.
She exits the room and Doc Monroe stands in front of me. “It’ll be about fifteen minutes until I get the lab results. Why don’t you lie down?”
I curl up on my side. Doc pulls out the exam table extension. Then she covers me with a blanket. Part of me wishes she acted cold and clinical instead of showing maternal concern.
The door shuts with a soft click.
Everything aches. My throat is almost swollen shut so it hurts twice as much to cry. But the tears leak out anyway.
“I’m still here,” Boone states.
Go away.
“Since you can’t talk, you’ll damn well listen.”
He’s gotten bossier from his years in the military. But he struggles with whatever he wants to say since he remains quiet for longer than I expect.
“Of all the places in the country I could’ve chosen to complete this training assignment, I elected to do it here, in my hometown, because I wanted to see you again. Even when I suspected you’d kick me in the balls at best, or you were in a relationship with some undeserving douchebag at worst.”
I hate that he tells me his worst case scenario is seeing me involved with someone else. Right then, I wish I had a hot, rich boyfriend with a big dick to flaunt at him.
“I don’t know what surprised me more,” Boone continues. “To find out that you actually changed your last name from Daniels to McKay—which is why with all the damn McKays around here I didn’t know the S McKay on the patient chart was you—or that you no longer live in Sundance.”
Even if my vocal chords weren’t raw and nonfunctioning, I wouldn’t respond. What can I say? He expects me to defend my choice to test my business skills beyond the Wyoming border? Screw that. He left for the very same reason. I owe him nothing.
“We’re not done with this, Sierra. Not by a long shot.”
His footsteps squeak on the linoleum. The door opens and closes with a soft click.
I know I’m alone.
Nausea rolls over me. I close my eyes.
I just need fifteen minutes and this nightmare will be over.
***
When Doc Monroe wakes me, I don’t know where I am.
Then a cough and burning in my throat remind me.
“You tested positive for strep,” the doc says, helping me sit up.
Goodie.
“Two treatment choices. A ten-day cycle of penicillin in pill form or a shot of penicillin.”
“A shot,” I whisper.
Long Time Gone Page 14