And here the distraction came. The sound of a big truck drew his gaze from the frolicking horses to the turn-off from the county road.
What?
A yellow school bus bobbled its way down the rutted drive toward Gramma's.
"You've got to be kidding," he muttered beneath his breath.
He stomped toward the drive to meet the bus. Maybe he could tell the driver to turn around and go back where they'd come from.
Kids didn't belong here, and they sure didn't belong around him…
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Did you miss The Bluebonnet Bride, book one of the Lone Star Brides series?
USA Today bestselling author Pamela Tracy introduces the Lone Star Brides series with a charming story of unexpected love…
This is Daniel Starr's year. He's moving up the rankings on the bull-riding circuit and is determined to catch his twin brother. Nothing is going to stop him. Well, almost nothing. When his beloved grandmother falls and needs a caretaker, Daniel finds himself on the road back to Pecan, Texas, rather than making the next rodeo. Why did this happen now? And why, when he's jeopardizing his career to come home, does Miss Bossypants Amy Benjamin think he's not doing enough?
Amy knows all about the swashbuckling Starr Brothers, but anyone who turns his back on her beloved Pecan—and on his own grandmother—doesn't deserve admiration. If Amy had been lucky enough to have family like Grandma Starr, her life would have been so different! Well, she's going to make sure Daniel does his duty. But the longer he stays in Pecan, the harder it'll be to see him go.
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Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading The Bull Rider's Bride. Writing a contemporary story was a bit different for me since I normally write historical stories. In a way, I could relate to Dusty who recently had knee replacement surgery after a ride-gone-bad on a bull. I've never ridden a bull, but I've had three knee surgeries and two replacements—on the same leg.
When I first plotted this story, I wasn't sure how I was going to get Dusty and Lindsey together again after their decade-long separation, but it all came together. Both hero and heroine had to set aside old wounds, much like we are called to forgive when someone wrongs us. The good news is that God will help us if we call on Him. Don't hang on to unforgiveness. It hurts you far more than the other person.
- Vickie McDonough
The Chef Next Door Sample
If you enjoy reunion romances like The Bull Rider's Bride, you might also like The Chef Next Door by Lenora Worth.
The whole world saw her get fired on network TV…
Alice Whitman was on top of the world. She had her dream job on a celebrity chef show and everything was perfect. Right up until she was fired. On the air. Talk about crashing and burning.
She heads for Atlanta to regroup, only to come face-to-face with Brice Taylor. Her brother's best friend—and the man she always thought she'd marry, until their careers took them in different directions. The last thing Alice needs is another rejection. She's broke, humiliated, and searching for a job. No matter how kind Brice is, she knows better than to take a chance on him.
But not everything is as it seems…and Brice might be singing a different tune this time around.
Here's a short sample…
#
Last Christmas…
"You know, the bread's the most important part."
"Really now?" Brice Taylor grinned at the girl he'd known all his life. Being back in Atlanta with her felt just like old times. "I'm still amazed that little Alice Whitman learned to make bread pudding. Amaretto bread pudding, at that."
Alice gave him that impish smile he remembered so well. Except now, it was also a very feminine, grown-up smile from a woman who lived and worked in New Orleans. "You're probably also amazed that I went to work as a sous chef."
Brice nabbed a slice of day-old French bread, admiration making him give her a teasing smile. "I seem to recall—"
"Of course, you recall." She slapped at his hand. "My mom only tells anyone who will listen that her smart, cute daughter works for that good-looking Chef Remy Cantrell, and that I bring home samples every time I come to visit."
Brice didn't want to hear about that womanizer chef. "My mom loves Let's Eat," he said. While he was proud of Alice for snagging a prime spot on the national cooking show, he hated the man she worked with. He'd heard rumors…
"So does my mom." Alice shook her head. "She expects me to cook for them when I'm home."
"From what your brother tells me, your visits are pretty rare." He winked so she'd know he was teasing. "I'm surprised you made it back to Atlanta for his wedding."
"New Orleans isn't that far," Alice said, her pout showing through her dimples. "I get home when I can."
Brice held up his hands. "Not judging. I travel all the time, but I don't visit my parents as much as my mom would like. As she reminds me whenever I make it home."
"When you do stay in one place, that is."
His smile was forced as he considered his mom. He was doing his best. Writing and recording with some of the biggest names in music kept him on the road just about all year long, so when he did have a free weekend, the last thing he wanted to do was haul his butt down from Nashville to Atlanta to visit the folks. Apparently moms didn't understand that kind of thing.
Brice ignored Alice's jab at his nomadic ways. He hadn't seen Alice in a long time, but he still remembered the last time he'd seen her. And hurt her. Not that he hadn't tried to forget, but it wasn't easy to put that sort of unfinished business away for good. But it looked as if Alice sure had forgotten him and moved on.
"And how about you? I guess cooking good food sure gives you an excuse to take it easy in the Big Easy."
Brice was proud of Alice. She was doing what she loved, working on a popular cooking show, living in New Orleans. They'd lost touch since high school, something he regretted every time he thought of her. Which was why he was so glad to see her now.
"So we're both on the naughty list this year." Alice's smile sparkled. "I love my job same as you." She turned on the oven, her long ponytail swinging over her shoulder.
"So you love New Orleans?" Brice asked. "You've been down there for five years now. Not counting the four years you were away at culinary school, of course."
"Are you counting?" she shot back, her fingers tearing into the stale bread with gusto even while her frown told him she remembered their last time together, too. "Do you want to learn how to make bread pudding or not?"
"Christmas Bread Pudding with Amaretto Sauce," he read off the recipe page. "Pecans, cherries, coconut. Did you throw in the kitchen sink?"
"It's my special recipe."
"Oh, I definitely want to learn how to make it, but mostly I want to eat it, too," Brice said. "I didn't get up early just to admire your mom's Christmas decorations. I want to be a master bread pudding cooker."
"Well, when you put it that way, I'm honored you deemed me worthy of your time."
But not for the reasons she believed. He couldn't resist coming next door and being in the same room with her. If that meant helping her mix a bunch of random stuff, he'd learn to make bread pudding.
He'd always had a crush on his best friend's feisty little blonde-haired sister, but Adam had threatened to throttle him if he ever came near Alice. At least, that had been the implied threat when they were growing up. Brice had never acted on his feelings, but he couldn't blame it all on Adam. With her love of cooking and her girl-next-door smile, Alice was the epitome of the perfect wife. And he'd never wanted to get married. He'd held back because he hadn't wanted to give her the wrong impression. Or hurt her.
But now…
Over the last few years, Brice had been intent on making his way in the music world, and that kind of lifestyle didn't lend itself to domestic tranquility. But lately, after his mother had encouraged him to watch Let's Eat, he'd started thinking in terms of settling down. Because watching Alice co
ok on television had made him fall for her all over again. This time, however, it wasn't about being a teen with raging hormones. This crush was more about seeing Alice as a woman, not his best friend's younger sister. She'd gone from cute and annoying to hot and challenging.
Growing up, Alice had followed them around like a little hazel-eyed puppy, and truth be told, she'd been able to outrun, outsmart, and outshine all of the boys on the block. She'd gone on to play soccer and win medals at track meets, too.
But on the night she'd taken Brice to her senior prom, something had changed between them. Brice had gone on the pretense of helping her make another boy jealous, a boy who'd broken her heart. She'd asked him, half-joking, when her bouncer of a brother Adam had been out scouting colleges for the weekend and was too far away to stop her. Brice accepted, half-serious. He would have roughed up the boy who'd hurt her, too. But that wouldn't have won him any points.
He could still picture how she'd looked that night in that emerald green dress. He'd wanted so badly to kiss her. Instead, Brice had given her a peck on the cheek because in spite of the lust he felt, he couldn't hurt Adam's baby sister. She was still broken-hearted from seeing her boyfriend with another girl. Brice couldn't add to that trauma. And he wouldn't take advantage of her. She'd stared up at him with hope and hurt in her eyes before she'd hurried into the house. In the decade since then, they'd rarely seen each other. Until now.
Today was a new day, and her big brother was about to be married in an extravagant wedding complete with mistletoe and red ribbons and holly.
Brice had come back to serve as best man.
Because he loved Adam like a brother.
But also because he'd decided he loved Adam's sister in a not so brotherly way. Watching her on that show, flirting with Chef Redundant, had given Brice the feeling that Alice could be the reason he hadn't stopped sowing his wild oats. Since she was one of the bridesmaids in the wedding, he'd have plenty of opportunity to be in the same room with her and to stare across at her while her brother said his vows. Maybe to get her out of his system.
Brice couldn't wait to see her in a frilly girlie dress. Alice might have been a tomboy at heart, but she was all woman when she wore long, flowing dresses.
"What comes after the bread you tormented and tortured?"
He tried to pay attention to her answer, but instead, he considered Adam. Surely he'd be okay with Brice making a move on Alice. If he wasn't okay with it…well, Brice was bigger than Adam now. Rather than risk it, he'd wait until Adam and his bride were on their honeymoon in Hawaii. Just to be safe.
Make a move? No, Brice wanted to get to know Alice all over again, only this time, in a grown-up way. He wanted to dance with her at the wedding and sit with her in that squeaky swing on her parent's front porch. He wanted to enjoy the week they'd have together in a slow, let's-fall-in-love kind of way. Walks in the park. Drives around the lake as they took in the Christmas lights. Hot chocolate and old movies. Sitting together in church on Christmas Eve. Opening special presents later as the clock struck midnight.
Maybe he'd even write a song about Alice and her Amaretto bread pudding or Christmas pudding or whatever kind of pudding she wanted to call it.
If he could just convince her that it was time for them to take things to another level. Alice could be stubborn, and from the way she'd looked at him on that long-ago prom night, she'd mistaken the one noble moment of his whole life for disinterest. Time to man up and make her see what they could cook up together. This time, he wouldn't send her running away. This time, he wouldn't let her go.
"Now we need to beat several eggs," Alice said, motioning to the carton on the counter. "You crack them into a big bowl and add milk and cream. I like to do half milk and half cream. Then we add the vanilla, nutmeg, and of course, sugar."
"Okay, milk, cream, eggs. Sounds like the start of a very good omelet to me."
She shook her head. "I can't believe you and I have taken over my mom's kitchen." Then she motioned to the coffee. "Before we start, I could use a refill."
Brice headed to the coffee pot and poured them both a fresh cup. "Let your mom sleep while you show me all the things you've learned from Chef What's-His-Name."
"Cantrell," she said on a sigh. "You know his name."
"I only watch the show to catch glimpses of you."
She beat the eggs by hand while she glared at him. "You don't watch the show."
"I do so watch when I can. Seriously, Chef Ready is so stuck on himself, I'm surprised he can even read a recipe card."
"He doesn't need to. He knows all of his recipes by heart."
She was defending the man with a little bit too much gusto.
"Yeah, and all the names in his little black book, too."
"Are you seriously jealous?"
"I'm not jealous."
But because he saw something in her eyes when she jumped to the chef's defense, he took the egg shells to the sink and pulverized them in the garbage disposal. Maybe what he felt was jealousy, pure and simple.
"You have a job you love," she said when the noise of the disposal died. "So why pick on him?"
"I do love what I do. I could write a jingle for you. Chef Remy, so dreamy. But when I eat his food, I get kind of squeamy."
"You are impossible." She shoved the bowl of the lemon-colored mixture toward him. "Pour this over the bread, please."
"Yes, ma'am."
Brice did as he was told and then stood back to drink coffee while he watched her chop pecans. She pulled the bag of coconut out of the refrigerator and frowned at him.
"He's a nice man, you know."
So she did have a thing for that Cooking Casanova.
"So I hear. Divorced… what? Two, three times?"
Alice twisted her lips in disapproval. "So you're counting that, too?"
"He flirts with you. A lot."
"He flirts with all the girls."
"And makes them cry."
Alice held up a hand in protest. "Hey, do you want to know about the toppings I'm about to put on this bread pudding?"
Brice moved closer and looked over her shoulder. "I sure do."
"The cherries and coconut meld with the pecans to make the pudding taste like…I don't know…" She stopped and turned toward him. "But when we add the Amaretto sauce, we take things to a whole new taste dimension."
"Christmas," Brice said, reaching for her hand. "This recipe has to taste like Christmas."
Alice gave him a startled but pleased stare. "Yes, that's it. I'm so glad you get that."
"I get that each time I look into your eyes."
Alice lifted her gaze to his. "Chef didn't understand what I was trying to accomplish with this recipe."
"Chef is a blooming idiot."
She giggled and pulled away. "He can be at times, but I'm not supposed to say that. I could get fired."
"Or start your own show or come to Nashville and just cook for me."
She turned back. "Brice, are you asking me to be your personal chef?"
Oh, yes. And so much more. "Would you, if I asked?"
Alice shook her head. "Still a tease."
He was still a tease, Brice decided. But before this bread pudding was done, he'd be serious with her. Done and stick a fork in it serious.
He leaned close. "If you come to Nashville to see me, I'll take you out on the town, and we'll dance the two-step and walk along the Cumberland River and visit Music City and the Ryman. You know, Elvis commuted back and forth between Memphis and Nashville so he could record at Music City." He stopped, tugged at her long bangs when she turned her head toward him. "And before the night ends, you'll know that I'm a hunka, hunka burning…bread pudding."
Alice stared at him, her eyes a burnished gold. "I've never been to Nashville."
Brice put his hands on her arms, savoring the sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon. "We have to remedy that, now don't we?"
She nodded and gave him a tentative smile. "Let's finish this and get it in
the oven."
The first of many brush-offs?
Brice had lots more moves. She might love bread pudding, but he knew she also loved a big, juicy hamburger and lots of fries on the side.
"Hey, what you doing for dinner?"
"Probably something with the family. Why?"
She sure wasn't making this easy. "I thought you and I could catch up. Have dinner at the Next Door Diner."
"That dump is still open?"
"You used to love that dump."
She shoved the pan of her special Christmas concoction into the oven and shut the door. "I still love that dump, and it loves me. Especially my hips."
He loved her hips, too. "They have the best hamburgers in Atlanta."
She closed her eyes. "And those fries. To die for."
He moved close again. "Yep."
She didn't even notice. "Apple pie with ice cream."
Another inch or so. "Uh-huh."
"Remember the nachos? All that taco meat and grated cheese and jalapenos."
"Really spicy."
Alice glanced into his eyes. "Maybe I do miss Atlanta after all."
He stood in front of her, his gaze moving over her face. "I miss Atlanta, and I miss you. Don't you think it's time we get to know each other again, Alice?"
Alice lifted her head, her eyes glistening. "I thought you'd never ask."
Brice cleared the space between them and tugged her close. "That bread pudding smells delicious."
She giggled and smiled. "Christmas bread pudding. It's all about love, after all."
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Rhinestone Cowgirl Sample
Or maybe you're in the mood for another cowboy story…
The Bull Rider's Bride Page 9