Steal My Heart (Prosperity Ranch Book 2)

by Heather B. Moore

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Steal My Heart

  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

  Sneak Peek!

  About Heather B. Moore

  Copyright © 2020 by Heather B. Moore

  E-book edition

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles. This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Interior design by Cora Johnson

  Edited by JL Editing Services and Lisa Shepherd

  Cover design by Rachael Anderson

  Cover image credit: Deposit Photos #157637254

  Published by Mirror Press, LLC

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  Heather B. Moore

  PROSPERITY RANCH SERIES

  One Summer Day

  Steal My Heart

  Not Over You

  She’s ready to leave Prosper behind, forever. So why did she have to meet him, of all times, and of all places? That was never the plan.

  Disaster seems to follow Evie Prosper’s dating life everywhere. A fresh start can only mean leaving Prosper forever, which is what she’s determined to do, until she meets Carson Hunt. He unknowingly saves her from another dating disaster, yet their paths keep crossing. Carson is relocating to Prosper of all places, and if Evie could change that one thing about him, she might rethink their connection.

  Evie Prosper slammed her dorm room door shut and flopped against it. “He asked me out. He asked me out! I think my luck has finally changed!”

  “Okay, okay,” Becca said with a laugh. “You don’t need to shout.”

  Evie slid down the door until she was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the waves of excitement pulse through her. Devon, the star quarterback for their Texas college team, had finally asked her out. It had been weeks since they’d first started talking, and not that Evie expected Devon to be the one, as in marriage and happily ever after, but it was fun to dream.

  Her eyes popped open. “Oh no.” She scrambled to her feet and rushed to the narrow closet. “I’m meeting him in an hour. One hour! Sixty minutes!”

  Becca groaned and shut down her laptop. “I’m out of here. Not really a fan of hyper Evie while she gets ready for a date by trying on every item of clothing in this dorm room.”

  Evie spun around to stare at her red-headed best friend and roommate. Becca was one of those girls who was beautiful with no makeup, no primping. But Evie had never gone a day without makeup in public since she was about thirteen. Yeah, she knew she was a slave to her beauty routine, but if it got her dates with the likes of Devon, it was worth it.

  “Are you seriously leaving?” Evie asked Becca when she was halfway to the door.

  Becca paused with a hand on the doorknob and turned her hazel eyes toward Evie. “In three days, you’ll be crying because things didn’t work out, and two days after that, you’ll be hot on another guy’s trail.”

  Evie frowned. “That’s not true—”

  “It’s been true for nearly four years.”

  That stopped Evie, but Becca continued, “I’ve seen you through every guy you’ve dated in college. It’s always the same. You’re up, then down, then up again, and I’m dizzy from the rollercoaster.”

  “Becca—”

  “Besides, Devon is a womanizer; everyone knows that. What you see in him is beyond me, except for the obvious.” Becca shook her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning if you get in after I’m asleep.” She turned the doorknob and left the dorm room.

  Evie stared at the closed door, not exactly sure what had just happened. Her roommate had never acted that way before. They’d always talked about their dates, oohing and aahing over which guys they liked. Well, except for the past six months—Becca hadn’t been dating much because she was in some pretty intense pre-med classes.

  Evie had changed her major more than once, and finally, in her junior year, she’d decided on graphic design in journalism. Two months until graduation, and she hadn’t gotten a job offer at a major newspaper yet. One offer had come from a small-town weekly newspaper, but it would only be part-time at the most. And Evie was done with small towns.

  She’d absolutely loved living in San Antonio the past four years and attending college. Which meant she went home as little as possible to her small-town roots in Prosper. She loved her family, but she never had any close friends in school. Besides, Evie was a city girl. Her mom wanted her to come back home and work for the Prosper Weekly. They didn’t even have an online presence.

  No, thank you.

  Evie refocused on her closet, and true to Becca’s prediction, when she walked out of her dorm fifty-five minutes later, she had gone through her entire wardrobe. Becca’s as well.

  But now, Evie couldn’t think about her annoyed roommate, and whether she was in fact on a rollercoaster of dating. As she walked to the commons, where she’d be meeting Devon, she thought back to the past few semesters.

  Leaving her small town of Prosper and entering college in the larger city of San Antonio, there had seemed to be so many guys in college. At first, Evie had been overwhelmed because they looked at her. Talked to her. Paid attention. Asked her out. With her brothers no longer hovering around her, Evie had started accepting dates.

  Back home, her one and only date had been her senior prom. That had been a disaster, with Aaron trying to end the night with a kiss on her front porch. Her brother had opened the door before any kiss could happen, and Aaron had taken off.

  That had been the beginning of her almost-kisses that never panned out. Because, well, there was one thing that Evie had never told anyone. Not even her best friend.

  Evie still hadn’t been kissed.

  Yeah, stop the presses, or whatever. Everyone had a dark secret, right? On the outside, it might look like Evie was a flirty girl who dated a lot. Was in it just for fun. Nothing ever serious. But in truth, after three dates, sometimes four, she ghosted the guy. Because that’s when the expectations started.

  First dates were always flirty, getting-to-know-you. Where are you from? Do you have siblings? What are you doing after college?

  Second dates were more amped up. We like each other enough to hang out again, so something more needs to happen. Like holding hands. Small touches. How many boyfriends have you had? When did you last have a girlfriend? How long did it last? A hug good night at the end of the evening.

  Third dates were when the expectations skyrocketed. Holding hands again. More touching. And a stolen kiss, or two. Sometimes heading into some
thing much more, if Evie was to base her knowledge on the countless dating stories she’d heard from friends, including Becca.

  When Becca asked Evie if she’d kissed her date, she’d say “yes,” then change the subject. Because telling the truth, and saying no, that she’d never been kissed, wasn’t something Evie wanted to analyze. Well, okay, she’d analyzed it to death, but she didn’t want anyone else jumping into her head.

  It was bad luck, she’d decided. Unattainable, undefinable bad luck. Every time she’d been about to be kissed, something had happened. Some sort of interruption. Once, it was lightning. Seriously.

  “Hi, Evie,” someone said, and she looked up to see a woman who’d been in some of her classes.

  “Hey, Rachel.”

  Rachel smiled and continued walking, and Evie realized she was nearly to the commons—the hangout place at the university. Tonight was no different. Students perched on tables and sat on benches. Some were eating ice cream from the university creamery. Beyond was a green belt, and a grass volleyball game was in full swing under the park lights.

  Evie scanned the far north table, where Devon had said he’d meet her. Right now, another couple was there, holding hands, and looking like they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  Evie blew out a breath as she headed toward the table. She couldn’t kick them off, so she’d just stay close in order to see Devon when he crossed the commons. She knew which direction he’d come from: the football house, where a bunch of the players lived.

  The football house was a huge party destination from what she’d heard. Evie had stuck to the dorms after hearing nightmare stories of girls not paying their share of utilities or having all-night ragers. Just because Evie hadn’t been kissed yet didn’t mean that she was anti-partying or having fun. But she loved her sleep, and her grades were important. She came from a hard-working ranch family, and money might not be exactly tight, but Evie didn’t want to take advantage of her parents agreeing to cover her living expenses so she could take full-time classes.

  Her summer jobs helped with the expenses as well, and she’d also stored up some savings in case she didn’t get employed right away.

  “Are you waiting for someone?” a low voice said next to her ear.

  Evie nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned around, pretty sure she was fully blushing. And there he was. Devon. The hottest guy on campus. His blonde hair was teased into messy spikes, and his dark green eyes were fringed with long eyelashes that should be illegal. But it was his smile that tugged at every woman’s heartstrings on campus.

  That smile was directed at her right now, and Evie’s face flamed. Because at that moment, Devon grasped her hand and said, “Wanna go to a party?”

  Carson Hunt slapped hands and bumped fists as he walked through the football house. The party was under way, and half the team had already shown up, in addition to the five guys who lived there. Plenty of women had arrived, all looking the same, in Carson’s opinion. Short skirts, tight tops, layers of makeup. And they were all after one thing. Football players.

  The music thumped, the big screen TV blared, and pizza covered the kitchen table and most other surfaces in the front room.

  “What’s up, Carson?” said Baker, a burly lineman who was already getting interest from pro scouts. “Decided to hang with the dogs, tonight?”

  Carson laughed as he paused in the kitchen. “I’m only here for a minute. Have you seen Devon?”

  Baker made a show of looking around, then he swung his gaze back to Carson. “Nope. But I’m sure he’ll show up with a chick on his arm.”

  Carson nodded as if it was no big deal to wait for Devon, but inside, he was seething. Devon might be a great quarterback, but he wasn’t infallible. Carson was the TA for Devon’s biology class, and today, he’d been grading papers. Devon’s paper from earlier in the semester was its usual hack job, but the most recent one was excellent.

  Carson was positive Devon hadn’t written it. But before talking to the professor, or the football coach, Carson wanted to have a one-on-one.

  “There he is,” Baker said.

  But Carson didn’t need to be told, because the front room erupted into cheers and welcomes as Devon stepped in. Even though it was early March and off-season for football, Devon was still a hero everywhere he went. Such was the power of football in Texas.

  Carson leaned against the counter as he watched Devon weave through the people, stopping and slapping backs, laughing, and sometimes introducing the woman at his side. She wasn’t his usual type of date, and that made Carson curious, but he wasn’t here to check out women.

  Regardless, he eyed her. She wore a blue summer dress that reached her knees, and her dark blond hair fell in waves down her back. Carson guessed it reached nearly to her waist when it was straight. And she seemed keyed up, as if she were nervous or uncomfortable. Her lips were a pale pink, and her makeup muted, making her look a lot younger than she probably was.

  Devon grabbed two beers and handed one to the woman, but she shook her head.

  Huh. Interesting. A college girl who didn’t drink? Especially one with Devon?

  Devon was almost to the kitchen, and Carson planned to corner him and demand answers. Carson might have played his four years at another university and transferred here for the master’s program, but he was loyal through and through to the football program. He knew the work that went into running a college sports program, and he wouldn’t let Devon stain the reputation of the school, no matter how good of a player he was.

  Instead of coming into the kitchen, Devon veered to the right, toward the staircase. He was taking his date upstairs.

  Not on Carson’s watch. But by the time he made it through the crowd to the base of the stairs, Devon and his date had already disappeared. Wow, the guy worked fast. And the woman with him? Apparently, she didn’t mind, either.

  Well, Carson was about to crash a party of two. He bounded up the stairs and followed the hallway to Devon’s bedroom. The guy had a different woman every week—the rumors had even reached Carson—but why should that bother him? Maybe it was because Devon’s date didn’t look like she’d ever been to a frat party in her life.

  The bedroom door wasn’t even closed, and Devon was leaning into his date, his hand on her hip. But she wasn’t cozying up to him; in fact, she looked like a deer staring into a pair of headlights.

  “Devon,” Carson said.

  Devon’s grin was lazy when he turned his head slowly. “Carson. Glad you could make the party, but I’m busy here.”

  Before Carson could say one word of explanation, Devon swung the door shut in his face.

  The click of the lock sent a shot of disbelief through Carson. At first, he only stared at the door, stunned into silence.

  Then he heard the woman inside say, “Maybe we should go downstairs.”

  Devon chuckled. “But I want you to myself.”

  “No, Devon. I don’t think—”

  It took Carson only two seconds to open the door with a bit of force from his shoulder. The lock would have to be replaced, but that wasn’t his problem.

  Both Devon and his date turned, and Carson grimaced at what he saw. The woman had pulled away from Devon, but his large hand held her wrist.

  “Let go of her,” Carson ground out.

  Devon’s eyes blazed. “Get the hell out of my room, Carson. None of this is your business.”

  “She said no,” Carson said. “Look at her. She looks like she’s going to puke, and she hasn’t even had a beer.”

  Devon’s gaze swung to his date, and she wrenched out of his grasp.

  Before either guy could say anything, she fled the room. Carson had guessed right. The woman had wanted to backpedal the second Devon brought her to the party.

  But now Carson had an angry quarterback on his hands. Not that anyone could intimidate Carson, who had a good two inches on the guy. And although he hadn’t played football for nearly two years, Carson hadn’t slacked off on conditioning
.

  And it only took another two seconds to slam Devon against the wall. “First of all,” Carson growled, “whoever that chick was, I hope she steers clear of you. And second of all, you’re about three minutes away from getting expelled from school.”

  Devon’s eyes popped wide.

  “That’s right,” Carson said. “Consider this a courtesy visit. I expect you to show up Monday morning in Dr. Purcell’s office with a full confession.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

  Carson shoved harder, and Devon clamped his mouth closed.

  “Good boy.” Carson scowled. “Now, I suggest you get this pigsty cleaned up. Oh, and you might want to tell your friends to go home. I think someone has called the cops, and I have no doubt there’s a few underage drinkers downstairs.”

  As if to emphasize Carson’s words, a drunk couple stumbled into the room, lips locked.

  “Get out,” Carson ground out.

  The couple stumbled out of the room.

  Carson was done. He’d gotten his message across, and now the next move would be Devon’s, and hopefully, he’d do the right thing. Carson headed out of the bedroom and down the hall, and by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, his mind was on the woman again—the one who’d taken off.

  He could only hope she’d stay away from Devon from here on out. Why Carson was worried about one of Devon’s fans, he had no idea.

  He headed out into the cool spring night. San Antonio was usually warmer in March, but the weather had been cool this week. He strode away from the football house and its lights and laughter and shouting. He’d once been one of those guys, having fun all the time, but that had changed his junior year on the football team. His older brother, Rhett, had died in a motorcycle accident, and Carson’s world had been rocked.

  He’d gone home for the funeral, and when he’d returned to school, it was all he could do to keep his head above water. School, practice, games. That was it. He had no emotional strength left for his then-girlfriend or any of his other friends. Yeah, Stacee had eventually dumped him, and his friends outside of the football team had faded off.