Taking Summer

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Taking Summer Page 1

by Emily Bishop




  Table of Contents

  Taking Summer

  Copyright

  Description

  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

  Thanks!

  Ruthless Daddy Sneak Peek

  Her Baby Daddy Sneak Peek

  More by Emily Bishop

  A Note from Emily...

  Let's get to know each other!

  Copyright © 2018 by Emily Bishop.

  All rights reserved.

  AG Media, LLC owns exclusive rights to all content herein. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from AG Media, LLC, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Emily’s books are distributed exclusively through Amazon’s Kindle Store. If you are not reading this book on a Kindle device, you have accessed an illegal copy and your device is susceptible to malware. Emily Bishop and AG Media, LLC are not responsible for any damages incurred by the use of illegal copies of this book.

  “You want me to marry you?”

  This isn’t the question I was expecting from Mr. Chiseled Jaw.

  I’m here to investigate a story, not get wet every time I look at him.

  And how do I even start this story?

  Hmm, let’s see. Rich cowboy with abs of steel takes me and makes me his?

  Not the most professional way to begin.

  “No, honest, I can stay emotionally unattached and do my job.”

  Says no woman ever…

  I’m doing an ok job at controlling myself, until he miraculously shows up and rescues me from near death.

  My panties almost fly off of their own volition.

  It’s the next part I’m not prepared for, when he asks me:

  “Will you be my fake fiancé?”

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  Chapter 1

  Summer

  The Barber Shop was a quaint watering hole, tucked in the heart of Dripping Springs and teeming with locals and classic rock music.

  As I stepped into the bar, the familiar smell of beer, sweat and fries hit me. Bars all smelled the same, no matter whether they were in New York or Texas.

  I scanned the place, allowing the new faces to settle in. As an outsider, I needed to integrate fast and win over the locals’ trust. Hopefully gain some worthy leads for my story. My professor at Yale had taught me well. “Appear cool and collected, at all times, but show some charm and humbleness to get sources to open up to you.”

  I straightened my shoulders, sauntered across the room, and slid onto a stool facing the bar.

  Play it cool, Summer.

  The bartender was a big dude with spiky grey hair and chocolate brown eyes. His arms were covered in swirling reds and greens, dragons and monsters etched into his skin. He spotted me and flashed a smile as he made his way toward me past bustling customers.

  “A newbie, eh?” His voice was surprisingly gentle, in stark contrast with his brutish figure.

  “That obvious? Here I was hoping to blend in to the background.”

  The bartender chuckled, shaking his head at me. “Sweetie, a beauty like you gets noticed around here.” He paused, surveying the room before continuing. “And in case you haven’t noticed, you’re in Dripping Springs. With a population of 3000, young chicks don’t just blend in to the background.”

  Sweetie? I’d have to let that one slide. “Right,” I said. “So, tell me what’s good around here.” I gestured to the beer bottles in the fridge behind him.

  “Your best bet is the Southern Star. Nothing like it. That is some top-class beer, home-brewed right here in Texas.” A hint of pride swelled in his voice.

  I flashed him a smile. “I’ll take one.”

  He chuckled. “Now, there’s a smile that will get you far in this world. Right you are, one beer coming right up.” And with lightning speed, he dashed over to the fridge, popped open a cold bottle, and placed it down in front of me. “You look like the kinda girl that don’t drink out of a glass,” he added.

  “How right you are.” I grinned, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig.

  Damn, that was bliss.

  Nodding my thanks, I attempted to slip a five into the bartender’s beefy hand, but he was having none of it.

  “This one is on me.” He winked then was off in another flash, serving another customer before I could thank him.

  Allowing the warmth of the booze to seep into my blood, I looked around, drinking the crowd in. Cowboy hats were the norm here, as well as men sporting pointy snake boots. A couple of women with cheap-looking makeup and fake eyelashes batted their eyes at me, staring suspiciously across the room, almost in contempt.

  I wouldn’t be intimidated by locals and gossip.

  I continued my scan and…

  The world froze.

  My heart freaked the hell out at the sight of him: a tall, imposing figure, propped up on his seat by the window, staring off into the distance.

  His face was hard, with a sharp-chiseled chin, sculpted like a marbled Greek God. The beginnings of a beard dusted his features, adding to his rugged looks. His short dark brown hair was slicked back in loose waves.

  He wore a flannel shirt with rolled up sleeves revealing taut muscle. I looked down at his shoes. Nope—no cowboy boots on his feet. In fact, he wore dirty blue Converse. Interesting.

  Heat shot up my body, and I willed myself to look away, but I was hypnotized. I focused on his nose, the eyes, the stubble, blinking.

  Mr. Perfect shifted his gaze from the window and settled on me, almost lazily.

  Holy shit.

  His eyes, dark blue-grey eyes of immeasurable depth, eyes I could drown in, focused on mine with icy clarity.

  His gaze was cold and hard, but something flickered in his eyes. A blush crept up my cheeks, and I broke the contact.

  Oh my word, that was intense.

  My gut somersaulted, apparently on some kind of a rollercoaster ride. I was giddy, light-headed all of a sudden, and I took another sip of my beer in an attempt to calm myself down.

  My reaction to him was explosive. What an alien feeling.

  I had almost forgotten about men in general. I’d been totally focused on my career and that was all. And now, in Texas of all places, I unraveled at the seams.

  Get your shit together Summer.

  I turned my head away from the stormy stranger and beckoned for the bartender’s attention. I had to use my journalistic resources to do some harmless digging around. Seeing me, the bartender’s eyes brightened up as he rushed over.

  “Hey sweetheart, what can Johnny do for you?”

  “Johnny, huh? Pleasure to meet you. I’m Summer.” I raised my hand to shake his. He looked down at my small hand as if surprised, grabbed hold, and held my grip firmly.

  “I like a woman with manners. And Summer is a beautiful name. How fitting,” Johnny purred. He could have been old enough to be my dad, and the flirting was legitimately creepy but seemed harmless enough. Besides, I needed information, and pissing off my new source wouldn’t get me far on my first day in this small town.

  “First of all, Johnny, th
anks for the beer. And second of all, who is that um…” I racked my brains for an appropriate word. To outright admit he was droolingly hot was out of the question. Thankfully, I found my tongue again. “That young gentleman, sitting alone by the window?”

  Johnny smirked at me, reading straight past my question. He leaned in, and I caught a draft of sweat and nicotine. I tried not to jerk away and instead breathed in through my mouth. I waited.

  “That fellow there is John Doe.”

  My eyebrows perked up. “As in, a stranger with no name?”

  “Yup. A suspicious fella, if you ask me. Came round here about a year ago, keeps to himself mostly. He don’t talk much.” Johnny was warming to his story, as his brown eyes gleamed with opportunity.

  “How does a man keep to himself in such a small town?” I pressed for answers.

  “We’ve all heard about his ways. He once rescued a kid from being trampled by a horse. Even helped out Mary White when her Jeep got stuck in the bad floods a couple months back. Funny thing is, he helps out all right but then disappears just as quick. Like a ghost almost.” I caught the edge of intrigue in Johnny’s voice.

  The stormy stranger with no name at least had one admirer, by the sounds of it.

  I turned my head around, as subtly as I could, and caught his burning glare boring into me.

  It was almost as if he had sussed everything out.

  He took a swig from his beer and then licked his lips, his blue eyes casting death my way.

  Fire shot up my pussy, flooding me with that tingling heat.

  I sucked my breath in, yet continued on, determined not to shirk away from this staring duel. Unbeknownst to this mysterious man, I was ridiculously good at this game, having played it with my brother as a child.

  I stared back, eyes narrowed, and his expression changed from anger, to astonishment, and was that a hint of amusement?

  But no, it couldn’t be, because the mask was back just as quickly. Finally, he turned away from me, and I wanted to pump my fist in the air. Yes, I had prevailed against all odds.

  I shifted back around to face the bar again.

  Johnny smiled from ear to ear, waggling his head. “Looks like you charmed the underpants off of that fella.”

  I twisted away from Johnny’s stare, feigning interest in my bracelet.

  “So, what’s a young woman like you doing out here?” It was as if the tables had shifted, and Johnny was playing the investigator now. Bartenders could be resourceful, especially in small towns like Dripping Springs, so I’d be honest with him.

  “I’m actually here for a story. I’m documenting the cattle ranch industry in Texas, as well as looking at the whole idea of ethical meat consumption, and whether there is such a thing.”

  Johnny’s eyes lit up again. “No way, a journalist? Well, sweetie, you’ve come to the right place, I can tell you that. Rumor has it that fella over there owns a plot of land a couple of miles out back. Could point you in the right direction?” Johnny poured himself a whisky shot, and quick as a fox, he downed the drink in one loud gulp.

  Bartenders had it easy.

  Looked like my luck was turning around in this town after all. I threw a hasty thanks Johnny’s way, scooted off my stool, and cracked my knuckles.

  It was show time.

  The handsome stranger might have some answers that could hopefully lead me to a prospective cattle ranch owner. Then I could get started on this story. Envisioning myself getting to the heart of the scoop set my heart on fire.

  My dreams were so close to becoming a reality they hovered over me, within reach.

  Eyes fixed straight ahead on my target, I strode over to him, but he was one step ahead of me.

  He rose from his chair, a tall mass of poise and hotness. He set his empty bottle on the table, then pushed his way through to the door and disappeared. A ghost, all right.

  And there I was, standing like an idiot in the middle of the bar, speechless with legs quivering like jelly. Mission definitely not accomplished.

  One thing was certain. His effect on me was dangerous. And if I wanted to get ahead, I’d have to learn to deal with it.

  Chapter 2

  James

  The scorching sun beat down on my back, heat sinking into my skin and sending a fresh wave of sweat down the back of my neck.

  I slid down Tiko’s back, and he huffed his thanks, which sounded a little like contempt.

  My horse was not in the best of moods today. That made two of us.

  Shielding my eyes against the blinding sun, I looked out into the horizon, toward the zigzagging road up ahead.

  My herd ambled along, taking their sweet time to snack on the grazed fields. Up ahead I spotted Mary, one of my youngest calves, nestled between her mother’s legs, uncertain about her entry into the big bad world.

  Fuck, I lived for these moments. Tiko neighed behind me, restless to ride up ahead.

  “All in good time buddy,” I said, patting his neck.

  Running a cattle ranch was hard work. But it sure as hell paid off. I had no one to answer to, nowhere to be. The freedom alone to do whatever I wanted kept me sated. After spending the majority of my adulthood in towering crammed offices and gloomy courtrooms, I savored this fresh air and quiet.

  In the distance, my sidekick, Atohi, came galloping toward me, like a warrior. His dark black hair, plaited behind his head, swished with impact. Coal brown eyes, usually filled with warmth and quiet, were etched in concern.

  Something was wrong.

  As Atohi reached me, he halted his horse, Pinkie, and flashed me a half-hearted smile.

  Uneasiness washed over me. Atohi never disturbed me out on the fields, unless it was something urgent.

  “Boss, you got company.”

  It was our never-ending joke, him calling me boss despite being my best friend. Although he technically worked for me, Atohi was far from my employee. Atohi was like a stubborn tree caught in a typhoon, refusing to bow to the winds. His loyalty knew no bounds. Having helped me build this ranch from the ground up, Atohi had literally saved my ass a thousand times and over. His calm demeanor and never-ending patience worked like magic when he was caring for the animals.

  “Something tells me that this company isn’t warranted.”

  “Your company comes in the form of a lady with an expression that could crack rocks. She seems desperate to talk to you. I told her you’ll be back in an hour or so, and that you don’t like being disturbed in the middle of work, but she ain’t movin’.”I mulled over Atohi’s words.

  Could it be my sister? But fuck, that could mean something terrible had happened at home. The sickening dread spread like wildfire in my gut.

  Before I could quiz Atohi further, a bright red Jeep came hurtling over the hill, trampling over the ground we’d spent hours ploughing. The cattle startled, and a couple fled off into the distance. Tiko neighed again, growing restless beside me. Atohi grabbed Pinkie by the reins and murmured quietly to her.

  What the actual fuck. Who dared trespass here and disturb my animals?

  The anger in me began to simmer at the nerve of this person. I took off toward the Jeep, a low growl starting up in my chest.

  “Shit, James, I told her to wait by the house, I didn’t think—“ Atohi called out after me.

  “It’s not your fault,” I called back. My friend had an outstanding ability to blame himself for everything. I gritted my teeth, and my eyes never left the Jeep.

  It came to a standstill, and the door swung open just as I reached it.

  A petite woman with jet black hair and almond-shaped brown eyes slid out of the car. Her eyes widened as she stared up at me.

  No. It couldn’t be.

  The anger flooded in, seizing me. The pressure rose up in my chest, ready to explode.

  It was Bruna, my ex fiancée.

  As her seemingly naïve eyes connected with mine, her whole body shook. “Oh, James, I’ve finally found you! It took a lot of digging around, but here I a
m.” She wore a tight strapless red dress and towering heels. She took a step forward, but I stopped her from approaching with a raised hand.

  Was she deluded enough she thought she could charm her way into talking to me?

  “Don’t come any closer. What gives you the right to come here?” My cold, hard words appeared to have pierced her, and tears glistened in her eyes. I knew her well enough to know that this was some kind of a sick charade.

  “I’ve spent over $15,000 on a private investigator to hunt you down and over 26 hours driving to speak to you. Please I just need a moment of your time James.” Bruna trembled, as if she were an innocent lamb.

  But I wouldn’t be her scapegoat any longer.

  I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath.

  She’s not worth it.

  “I don’t care if you climbed Mount Everest to get here, you lost the right to speak to me a long time. Leave,” I said. Because that was what it boiled down to. Harsh facts in broad daylight.

  I wanted nothing to do with her.

  The words had the opposite effect on her. She sobbed heavily now, tears running down her face. She’d always had a tendency toward the dramatic. Had to be all those acting classes I’d paid for. “When I heard you abandoned everything you’d built, I couldn’t believe it. Practicing law was your passion. It still is, it runs in your veins. And to think that you’ve left everything for this… It breaks my heart to think I’m responsible for all of this.” Bruna took another step forward in a vain attempt to reach me, but she didn’t realize what she was walking into.

  A big pile of stinky shit. I suspected one of the calves’ mothers, probably Mary, had a part in it.

  Bruna’s high heel sank into the poop, all but disappearing.

  I held back a grin, watching her eyes trail down to her feet. She shrieked out loud, her whole face twisting in disgust. She raised up her expensive-looking designer shoes, cussing loudly.

  “Fuck you and your cows! My shoes, oh my god, my shoes!” Sse screeched.

  I looked over at Atohi, who was doing a poor job at suppressing his laughter.

  “I think that’s a sign for you to leave, Bruna.” My voice was firm and smooth. I had worked so damn hard to build a life away from her, away from New York and all the toxicity it brought, and yet here she was, dragging my past back.

 

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