by Taylor Hart
The Lone Star Groom
Bachelor Billionaire Romances
Taylor Hart
All rights reserved.
© 2017 ArchStone Ink
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. The reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form whether electronic, mechanical or other means, known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written consent of the publisher and/or author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This edition is published by ArchStone Ink LLC.
First eBook Edition: 2017
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Free Last Play Romance
Also by Taylor Hart
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Sneak Peak Hail Mary: Last Play Romances
Also by Taylor Hart
About the Author
Free Last Play Romance
You can get a free copy of The Rookie, A Last Play Romance by clicking here.
As an added bonus, you’ll also receive updates when the next Taylor Hart Romance is released so you don’t miss out on one of these sweet romances.
Also by Taylor Hart
Bachelor Billionaire Romances
The Country Groom
The Unfinished Groom
The Barefoot Groom
The Masquerading Groom
The Christmas Groom
Rescue Me: Park City Firefighter Romance (A Bachelor Billionaire Companion)
The Lost Groom
The Undercover Groom
The Last Play Series
Last Play
The Rookie
Just Play
A Player for Christmas
Second String
End Zone
Hail Mary
Snow Valley Series
A Christmas in Snow Valley: The Christmas Eve Kiss
Summer in Snow Valley: First Love
Spring in Snow Valley: The Bet
Chapter 1
Liberty stood in her mother’s office at The New York Times and tried not to be offended at the offer on the table. “Mother, I just graduated from Yale. I just did a semester in London. I’m ready to cover the hard news. More than ready. Please don’t put me on some fluff country music article.”
Her mother wore a pencil skirt dress with heels, her hair twisted into a stern French twist, and a very elegant amount of makeup—the picture of professionalism. She ignored Liberty and studied her computer, pointing to the screen. “Texas Waters.” She tsked her tongue. “He’s handsome, a war hero, and his music is somewhat controversial which makes him even more beloved by fans it seems.” She scrolled down the screen and waved Liberty around the desk, still pointing to the screen. “They want an up close and personal article done on him, ready to run by Labor Day. Are you ready for it?”
Her heart pounded inside her chest. “I told you I want to leave by Labor Day to cover the U.N.’s conference in Nigeria. It’s going to be historic, delving into the issue of how to re-settle the refugees in the camps.”
“No.” Her mother still didn’t look at her.
Rushing on, she started citing facts. “Mother, this is a world problem, not an Africa problem. A lot of these refugees have been re-settled from other parts of the world and continue to be re-settled. Some families have lived in tent cities for fifteen years or more, there has to be more coverage. And don’t even get me started on the child abduction problem.”
Finally, her mother flashed her violet eyes up to her from the screen. The same violet eyes she’d inherited. “I agree with you that it’s a critical issue that needs more attention, but you are not going to be the one covering it. Do you understand?”
Liberty rolled her eyes. These were the breaks when your mother was the top editor for The New York Times. Part owner too. At least her family was. It was an ownership that would pass to her eventually.
Not soon enough.
“Look, Liberty,” her mother said, pronouncing each syllable of her name precisely, like lib-er-ty. Her mother hadn’t wanted to name her that, she’d admitted to Liberty when she was twelve. Her father had insisted on it.
“I don’t want you anywhere near Nigeria or …” She trailed off, and Liberty waited for her mother to say Iraq.
But she didn’t. She never spoke of the place her father had been killed.
Sighing, she shook her head. Liberty waited for a touch of moisture in her eyes, or any sign of real emotion. It didn’t happen. “Look, I need you to do this.”
This article didn’t even seem pertinent to Liberty. “I don’t even like country music.”
Her mother cocked an eyebrow. “A good reporter can report anything.”
“Mother, you know I can report anything I want. You know that.” She hated to admit how badly she wanted her mother’s approval. Sure, she’d won awards in college for her articles. Sure, she’d been sent, on scholarship, to London for the semester, but her mother had never ever said she was good. Her mother, the top editor at The New York Times, had never told Liberty she had talent. It grated against the sensitive, fragile part of her she didn’t want to show anyone.
Waving a hand in dismissal, her mother gave her an unamused smile. “Then get to Jackson and cover this story.”
Anger burned through her. Hating the fact her mother could push her to act like a two-year-old so quickly, Liberty bit into the bottom of her lip. “You can’t control me, Mother.”
Unfortunately, this was not a new fight. They’d been having it since before she left for London last Christmas to spend her last semester studying global conflicts in Europe. It had been awesome and had sparked a desire inside of her to see more of the world, to get to the underbelly of problems and make a difference.
Her mother narrowed her eyes. “Your engagement party is the week after labor day. Have you told Hale you want to go halfway around the world into war-torn territory?”
“I’m not marrying Hale,” she said a bit defensively.
Pushing back from her desk, her mother took off her glasses and put them down, running a hand down the sides of her nose. Liberty recognized the gesture as a sign she was stressed. Her mother crossed her arms. “You’ve told Hale that?”
Frustrated, she shook her head. “I try to tell him, but he won’t accept it.”
Her mother looked skeptical. �
��Liberty, you know his family has a controlling interesting in this newspaper.”
Liberty rolled her eyes. “Mother, we’re not in some third world country that has arranged marriages.”
Scowling, her mother narrowed her eyes. “Hale is good stock and has always been the boy in your life.”
Resenting those words, Liberty shook her head and looked away. “Mother, I just don’t … feel that way about Hale.”
“Oh, stop it, Liberty.” Her mother’s voice turned from professional to curt. “I have told you before it’s not fair to treat the Langreen family like this. It’s not. This alliance would be a good thing for you.”
“You mean for you.” Liberty shot back at her. Her marriage would give her mother more political power with the board.
Flaring her nostrils, her mother shook her head and looked away. “You are the most stubborn child. Always have been.”
“Good thing I’ve always been in boarding schools, isn’t it?” Liberty had never felt bad about attending boarding school … until her father died and it felt like boarding school was where her mother preferred her to be.
Liberty’s mother turned to stare at her. Her eyes narrowed. “Let me be clear, Liberty. You’re getting engaged to Hale at that party.” Liberty felt her face flush, and she tried to calm her trembling hands as her mother continued. “You’ve messed around with that poor boy for too long. Since you were children, and you know it.”
Liberty was about to respond when her mother put a hand up. “Before you give me some snippy retort, let me remind you I still control the bank accounts of that nice little trust fund you pull from, and it can be shut off like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I see all the donations you make to those refugee camps. Do you want that to end?”
Liberty wanted to rail against her mother. Wanted to tell her to shove the bank accounts, but those families counted on her money. Also, as much as she hated to admit it, she needed her mother’s support to go to the conference.
For a few moments, neither of them spoke.
Finally, her mother shook her head and moved back to her desk, sitting before speaking again. “Texas Waters will be a tough nut to crack, but we need a good story. Really good.” She turned to the computer. “The gal I usually send just quit on me. I need someone who can get in there and get close to him. Make him trust you. This isn’t just a fluffy piece. We need the truth about the man.”
“You mean the dirt,” Liberty said bluntly. She knew her mother wanted something juicy for the paper.
Her mother rolled her eyes. “Truth and dirt usually coincide, dear. That’s a fact of life.”
Irritation wove through her. She’d listened to her mother talk about how to report and what a good reporter did over countless formal dinners when she was home for holidays. “I want to go to the conference in Nigeria and report something meaningful.”
“Nigeria is too dangerous,” her mother said flatly.
“I won’t go off alone.” Even as she said it, she knew it was likely something she might do.
Her mother frowned. “Hmm, I’ve heard that before, haven’t I? Like last semester when I found out you’d been to Turkey.” Her mother’s tone nailed her to the wall.
She sighed. “I was—I am fine.” She stuck her chin into the air. A group of friends had taken a trip to Turkey to check out the UN camp there. “The information I gathered there will help me with the article I write in Nigeria.”
Her mother shook her head. “No. Please stop asking.
“Mother, you’ve raised me to do this. Father would want this.” Her voice softened at the mention of her father.
Turning her gaze back to her, her mother let out a big breath. “I can’t lose you too.”
Unsure of how to take any kind of vulnerability coming from her mother, Liberty softened more. “I’m not father. I’m not going into a war. I’ll be at a conference. That’s all.”
Her mother turned more matronly than Liberty was used to seeing, the lines around her eyes eased. “You never think you’re going into a war, Liberty. Sometimes, the war’s just brought to you before you can do anything about it.”
Their eyes held.
They weren’t the type of mother and daughter who shared their feelings. Since her father was killed five years ago, her mother had only spoken of it once, after the funeral. Then she’d sent Liberty back to school, telling her to focus on her studies.
Over the years, Liberty had wanted to discuss it more, but her mother had shut her down at every turn until it was just a thing between them that they never talked about.
Liberty blinked. “I will not live my life being afraid.”
Her mother threw her hands up, standing and moving to the windows overlooking the city. She hesitated, her lips tight. “You’re not going to change your mind about this, are you?”
Finally, her mother understood that. “No.”
Hesitating for a few moments, her mother whirled back. “I’ll make you a deal. You get to Jackson, Wyoming, get a good story on Texas Waters, something that will sell papers, and you commit to giving the right answer at that engagement party. Then I’ll send you to the conference in Nigeria.”
She hesitated. “Mother, I can’t commit to marrying Hale. I …” She sputtered. “And … Wyoming? Did I hear you say Wyoming?”
Her mother frowned. “Yes, Jackson, Wyoming. It’s where a couple of billionaires hang out. “You what, Liberty?” Her mother asked.
A nervous energy whipped inside of her. “I love Hale, as a friend, but it’s not …”
“Disney?” Her mother offered, with a sarcastic laugh. “A fairy tale?” She tsked her tongue. “Most things aren’t. I tried not to sell you the fairytale of true love, dear.”
“Did you love dad?” Liberty asked quietly. It was something she’d been thinking about, wondering about.
A devastated look washed over her mother’s face. “How could you even ask that?”
Happiness surged into her. It actually soothed Liberty to hear her mother confess this. She blinked. “I thought so.”
Her mother’s face turned severe, her lips pinched. “That’s the exact reason you should marry Hale.”
This made no sense to her at all. “But …”
Her mother put a hand up. “I’m done, Liberty. You may go.”
Turning for the door, she felt confused. “So I can go to Nigeria if I get the story on this Texas Waters?” She gestured to the computer.
Her mother’s posture stiffened, and she shook a finger at her. “Get the story, say yes to Hale.”
She frowned at her mother. “I can’t commit to Hale.”
Her mother picked up a file on her desk and opened it. “Then I can’t commit to Nigeria.”
Liberty shook her head. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, she didn’t have any job prospects and her mother did control the purse strings. She didn’t move.
“What?” Her mother looked up at her, a wary expression on her face.
She had to negotiate something … that wasn’t marrying Hale. “If I get you a good story, you let me go to Nigeria and cover the conference?”
Her mother shook her head. Finally, she waved a hand. “This article better make me want to cry.” A small smile played at her lips.
Liberty felt elated. The smile was a small thing by most people’s standards, but for her mother it was everything.
Her smile disappeared. “However, if a war breaks out between now and then in Nigeria, the deal is off.”
Liberty couldn’t quit smiling. This was the furthest she’d ever gotten in her opportunity to cover something she’d always dreamed about. There was always the possibility of war, but she knew the region was stable at the moment. She nodded, trying to squelch some of her happiness. “I don’t need three weeks to do an article on a country music singer. I’ll get the scoop on him, and the article will make you cry.”
Her mother nodded. “We’ll see. And, please Liberty … think long and hard about marrying
Hale, he would make a good match for you.”
Chapter 2
"Three weeks!” Texas sat back into the plush couches. “Who in the world would want to be around me for three weeks?”
Montana let out a sardonic laugh. “It’s for the label. I need you to do this interview for both of us.”
Texas squirmed on the leather couches, not liking this thought at all. He wasn’t big on personal space being invaded. The women in his life usually went packing after breakfast.
Montana leaned back in his chair behind the desk, looking satisfied. “Are you ready to get going on your own, Texas?”
Texas felt his face stretch into a smile as big as the Grand Canyon, which they’d stopped at last week on their way back from a show in California, the final stop on their summer tour.
“I’m ready. Thank you, sir, for this opportunity.” It was a huge deal to be the first one signed to Montana’s new label. Sure, he’d toured with him for a year, but getting the chance to be the one who others opened for would be awesome. Legit.
Montana waved a hand into the air. “Hey, you’ve earned it.” He chuckled and scrunched up his face. “After all, your new album and tour are going to make me a huge stack of money.”
It was a dream come true. “It’ll make us both a lot of money.”
“Okay?” Montana sat forward, looking all business.