by A. J. Pine
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by A.J. Pine
Excerpt from Tough Luck Cowboy copyright © 2018 by A.J. Pine
Cover design by Elizabeth Stokes
Cover copyright © 2018 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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ISBN: 978-1-5387-2705-8
E3-20180110_DA_NF
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
A Preview of “Tough Luck Cowboy”
About the Author
Fall in Love with Forever Romance
Acknowledgments
Thank you, first and foremost, to you—the reader. To those of you who followed me from my romantic comedies to my foray into the wonderful world of cowboys, I’m so grateful for your continued support. And welcome, new readers. I’ve got two more sexy stories coming your way for Luke and Walker!
A huge thanks to my fabulous editor, Madeleine, for your excellent guidance on Jack and Ava’s story. Can’t wait to work on Luke next.
Thank you, Courtney, for finding the Everett brothers a great home.
To my wonderful critique partners and friends—Lia Riley, Chanel Cleeton, Jennifer Blackwood, Megan Erickson, and Natalie Blitt—I love you all to pieces. Your friendship and support are everything—as are our daily conversations that usually leave me laughing until I’m crying.
Jennifer Ryan, I cannot thank you enough not only for reading and giving Jack and Ava your stamp of approval but for being a fabulous friend and mentor. You are truly the best.
Thank you, S and C, for being the best fans even though you’re not old enough to read my books yet. I love you to infinity.
Prologue
Ten Years Ago
Ava snaked her fingers through Jack’s and squeezed.
“Come on,” she said. “It’s going to be fun.”
His head fell back against the seat as he put the truck in park. Parties weren’t his thing, especially here. He’d only been at Los Olivos High School for five months, so celebrating graduation as the odd man out wasn’t exactly top on his list.
But it was top on Ava’s list, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for the girl who’d made those months bearable.
No. That wasn’t fair. Time with Ava was more than bearable. It was everything that got him out of bed in the morning and kept him from cutting class when he would have been fine taking the GED, even if it meant losing his baseball scholarship. It’s how he endured not being able to play his senior year. And it was the reason that maybe—after college and getting some distance from this place—he’d be able to come back and see it differently.
“I love you,” she said softly, her pale cheeks turning pink as she leaned across the center console and kissed the corner of his mouth.
He blew out a breath and skimmed his fingers through her thick, auburn waves.
“And I know you’re leaving soon for summer training, but I think we should tell my parents about us. Unless—I mean if this is only a senior year thing.”
He tugged her closer, his palm cradling the back of her neck as he brushed his lips over hers. “You’re it for me, Red,” he whispered against her. “But I thought they were still getting over you and Golden Boy breaking up.”
She groaned. “I know you know Derek’s name.”
The corner of his mouth quirked into a crooked grin. “Doesn’t mean I have to say it.”
“You wanted to wait, remember?” she reminded him. “Because my dad is way overprotective.”
Jack laughed, the sound bitter, and his smile faded. “And thinks I’m gonna be like my father. I got it then, and I get it now.”
It didn’t matter that Los Olivos was an hour away from Oak Bluff, Jack’s hometown. News traveled fast when three new students transferred into a school second semester. And a drunk almost killing his oldest son was the best sort of gossip for a small California wine country town.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t have the same fears. The apple usually didn’t fall too far from the tree.
He hadn’t planned on anything more in Los Olivos than biding his time and getting the hell out of town when summer came.
He hadn’t planned on her. So when he’d suggested they keep the relationship quiet—that he didn’t want to make waves in her seemingly perfect life—she hadn’t argued.
She cupped his cheeks in her palms and tilted his forehead to hers. “He doesn’t know you. Plus I’m not good at secrets. Or lying. As soon as he sees how amazing you are, he’ll know there’s nothing to worry about.”
He closed his eyes as she kissed him. Maybe this could be him now, the guy a girl brought home to her parents instead of the one people whispered about when they thought he couldn’t hear.
“I love you, too,” he finally said. “In case you didn’t know.”
He felt her lips part into a smile against his.
“Oh, I know,” she teased. “But I like to hear you say it.”
Both of them startled at the sound of the passenger side window rattling.
“Party’s out back!” someone yelled as another graduate drummed against the glass again.
Ava giggled. “One hour,” she said. “If it sucks after an hour, then we leave. Promise.”
He pressed a soft kiss against her neck and she shivered.
“Anything for you, Red.”
He leaned across her and opened her door. Then he hopped out of his own and met her at the passenger side.
Maybe this was what it had been like for his parents before it all went to hell—when his mom was alive and his dad sober. He couldn’t remember anymore. T
he past five years couldn’t be erased, but maybe whatever the future held could cushion the blow.
Ava swayed when her feet hit the ground outside the truck, and Jack caught her by the elbow.
“Hey there,” he said. “You okay?”
She forced a smile even as her stomach roiled.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m fine. It’s just so hot out tonight.” Thankfully, that was the truth—even if it wasn’t her truth. “I need to splash some cool water on my face. That’s all. Head out to the bonfire, and I’ll be right back.”
He hesitated, but she needed to get inside—quick.
“Go.” She nudged his shoulder. “I’ll meet you out back.”
“I’ll come with you,” he said insistently, and she could see the worry in those blue eyes.
“Ava!”
They both turned to where a group of girls were coming up the street toward Jack’s truck, her friend Rachel heading up the pack.
“Ohmygod,” Rachel said in one breath. “Please tell me you know where the bathroom is and that you can get me there safely.”
Saved by the drunk friend.
“See?” Ava said to Jack, grabbing Rachel’s hand. “I’m not alone. See you in five minutes.”
He ran a hand through his overgrown blond waves, then kissed her on the cheek.
“Five minutes,” he relented. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
She nodded, afraid if she opened her mouth again her lie would be exposed. Instead she and Rachel ran for the front door of the house up the drive.
Once in the bathroom, she dropped to her knees in front of the toilet and emptied her stomach.
“Damn,” Rachel said. “I thought we prepartied too much.”
But Ava hadn’t had one drink that night. And this was the fourth time this had happened in the span of a week.
She grabbed a wad of toilet paper and wiped her mouth, then flushed and turned toward the sink.
“Yeah,” she said absently. “Too much prepartying.” She cupped cold water in her palms and drank, then thankfully found a tube of toothpaste in the medicine cabinet. “I’ll see you out there.”
She slipped out of the bathroom and into the small hallway off the foyer, heart hammering in her chest.
She pressed a palm against her flat belly. She would have to take a test to confirm, but she was already over a week late. It looked like she had something to tell Jack before they broke the news to her parents that they were dating.
“There you are,” a voice crooned from the end of the hall.
Ava rolled her eyes. “Not now, Derek,” she said, attempting to push past him as he came nearer. Instead he backed her into the corner where the wall met the doorframe to the guest bedroom.
“Not funny,” she said, trying to slip out from where his arm palmed the wall above her shoulder.
“I miss you,” he said, his breath tinged with the scent of liquor.
“You’re drunk. You always miss me when you’re drunk.”
His free hand cupped her breast and she swatted it away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
But he wasn’t deterred. This time he pressed the length of his body against hers. “Come on, babe. I know how much you like taking in strays, but enough is enough. Two years, and you never gave it up for me, but you give it up for that trash from Oak Bluff?”
He ground against her pelvis, pressed his fingers hard against the base of her throat. He was too close for her to knee him in the balls—too big to push away.
“Stop it, Derek.”
Golden Boy. Right. Nothing could be further from the truth.
She pushed her palms into his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. It only made his weight against her feel heavier, his fingertips on her skin pressing harder.
Over his shoulder she saw Rachel step out of the bathroom. The girl caught Ava’s eye and grinned, then pressed her fingers to her lips in a promise to keep quiet as she started backing away. After all, Ava and Derek Wilkes had been the couple most likely to—well—everything just before the holidays. Until she wouldn’t give him what he wanted for Christmas. To Rachel this probably looked like reconciliation.
“Rach—” she started, but Derek shut her up by pressing his lips to hers.
This wasn’t happening. Except it was. So she bit down on his lip.
“Shit!” he growled, backing away and swiping the back of his hand across his mouth, his skin smeared with blood. “You little—”
He reached for her again, but his hand never made contact. In a blur, someone slammed Derek up against the adjacent wall.
“She said stop, asshole.”
Jack was seething, something dark and dangerous in his eyes.
“Thanks for breaking her in for me,” Derek said with a sneer. “But I think I can take it from here.”
Jack slammed him against the wall again.
Derek laughed.
Ava yelped, and Jack’s eyes met hers.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Let’s just go.”
But then his gaze dipped to her collarbone. She ran her fingers over the skin, wincing when she felt the beginnings of bruises.
That was all it took for Jack to lose his focus—and for Derek to throw the first punch.
Ava watched in slow motion as Jack’s head snapped to the side and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. And then before she knew it, Derek’s head crashed into the wall as Jack’s fist collided with his face again and again until blood poured from Derek’s nose and a group of guys Ava hadn’t seen arrive were pulling Jack from his limp human punching bag.
She hadn’t even known she was screaming until the commotion settled and one of the guys let go of Jack to keep Derek—now unconscious—from crashing to the floor.
Jack stared down at his bloodied knuckles, then up at her, his eyes wide with horror.
“I’m him,” he said softly—like he hadn’t meant anyone else to hear but himself—as sirens wailed in the distance.
Chapter One
Jack glanced down at his rumpled shirt, then ran a hand through his perpetually overgrown hair. Despite a sleepless night, he had somehow made the five-plus hour drive from San Diego to the outskirts of San Luis Obispo County—and the blip on the map that was Oak Bluff—without killing himself. A shit night of sleep was the norm. Spending the entire morning on the 101 with only the two cups of coffee he’d bought on his way out of town and thoughts he’d rather not have the time to think? That was another story. A man alone with his thoughts for too long was a dangerous combination. It was one of the reasons he rarely came home. Another one of those reasons was about to make his way six feet underground.
His vision blurred, and he shook his head, swerving to avoid a blown-out tire in the middle of the road right before the entrance to the cemetery. The coffee wasn’t exactly doing its job.
He let out a bitter laugh as his truck rolled to a stop on the narrow lane along the gravesites. “Would you have appreciated the irony?” he asked aloud. His voice was deep and hoarse after the hours of silence, hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel of his now-parked truck. “Me kicking the goddamn bucket the day I come to see you laid to rest?”
No one answered, of course. He glanced at the cattleman hat on the passenger seat, still not sure why he’d kept it all these years in San Diego, or why he’d felt the need to bring it with him for the drive back. As soon as he made sure Luke and Walker—and even his aunt Jenna—were taken care of, he had another life to get back to.
Because home wasn’t here anymore. Hadn’t been for years. He wasn’t sure any place fit that definition these days, but it sure as hell wasn’t the small, ranching town of Oak Bluff. Boxed in amongst vineyards and only miles from the ocean, tourists who wanted a quaint, off-the-beaten-path segue from wine country kept the place on the map. But Jack hadn’t taken that segue in a decade. Until now.
He hopped out of his truck and grabbed his suit jacket from its hanger in the back of the cab and the fresh bouquet
of flowers from the floor. In the distance he could see the distinct figures of his younger brothers, his aunt, and a fourth body—most likely some funeral officiant—standing at the grave.
That was it. The four of them and a stranger to preside over the burial of a man he wasn’t sure deserved even that much. Yet here he was.
As he approached, his aunt Jenna was the first to look up. Not even ten years his senior, she’d always felt more like a sister, and a pang of unexpected longing for the family he’d left behind socked him square in the gut. It had been over a year since he’d seen her—since he’d seen any of them. God, she looked more like his mother now than ever, her short blond hair having grown to her shoulders since the last time they’d met. At thirty-six, Jenna, the baby sister, had now seen more years than his mother ever would.
He stopped at the grave next to his father’s and knelt down, laying the small arrangement of white and purple orchids on the grass in front of the headstone that read CLARE OWENS-EVERETT, BELOVED WIFE, MOTHER, SISTER, AND DAUGHTER.
“Hey, Ma,” he said softly. “Still miss you. Brought you your favorite.”
“Has it really been fifteen years?”
He heard Jenna behind him, the lilt of her Texas twang that never left, much like his mother’s—but he lingered several more seconds with the orchids and his memories. He silently wished for his mom to send him some sort of sign that she was at peace. Had she known what happened to her husband after he lost her? What he’d become and what he’d done to her boys?
“I tried,” he said under his breath, not wanting Jenna to hear. “I tried to fix him. But he didn’t want to be fixed.”
He stood then, towering over the woman who’d taken them in when she was barely done being a kid herself.
“You’re huge,” she said as he pulled her into a hug. “Were you always this tall?” He laughed, and she pushed far enough away to rest her palms on his lapels. “Look at you, Jack. Christ on a cracker, you’re all grown up. You bring home any of your fancy lawyer friends for your aunt? Maybe on the other side of thirty, though.”
She winked at him. Still the same Jenna.
“Not this trip,” he mused. “Maybe next time.”