Page 13 of Curvy Girl for the Cowboy

We lay there in the moonlight filtering through the curtains, her tracing idle patterns on my sweat-cooled chest while I run my fingers through her tangled hair. The future stretches out before us, full of promise. Hard work and struggle, no doubt. But also love and partnership. Building a family together on this land that's in my blood.

With Sam in my arms and the ranch pulling through, I feel a deep sense of peace settle in my bones. A rightness. Come what may, we'll weather it. Together.

I place my palm reverently over her belly, wondering if my seed has already taken root. The thought fills me with a fierce joy and protectiveness.

"Sweet dreams, honey," I whisper as her eyes flutter closed and her breathing deepens. "Tomorrow's a new day."

As I let sleep claim me, I thank the stars above for bringing this woman into my life and into my heart.

My perfect bride.

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Keep reading for an excerpt from Unmasking the Billionaire.

Eve

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this!” I practically have to yell over the music to be heard by Jenny, my best friend since childhood.

Jenny just smiles her dazzling, millionaire-dollar, rich girl smile at me from behind her sparkling, Swarovski-crystal mask.

We’re at some sort of masquerade ball for New York’s elite. It’s the Halloween party of the season and surprisingly not as stuffy as I’d expected it to be.

Honestly, it’s kind of cool with the dim lighting, high-end decorations, elaborate costumes, and all the masked faces on parade, but still.

This isn’t my element.

“Oh, come on, Eve! This is fun! You need to lighten up and live a little for once!”

That’s easy for her to say. She’s a trust fund baby without a care in the world. Her mommy and daddy pay for everything, from her expensive haircut to the designer shoes on her feet. She doesn’t have to worry about anything.

Not that I begrudge my bestie anything. I’m glad she hasn’t had the same struggles in life I’ve had. It’s how she’s able to have that beautiful, happy glow about her.

She doesn’t know the worry that I do of how she’s going to pay next month’s rent or how she’s going to juggle the electric bill so that the power doesn’t get cut off.

And while she’s offered to pay my bills before or let me move in with her, I have way too much pride to accept her offers.

I’ve been making it on my own since I turned eighteen and aged out of the group home, and I’m not about to start accepting charity now that I’m twenty.

“Your birthday only comes around once a year!” she reminds me, flinging an arm around my shoulder familiarly. “It’s time to turn up and party!” She pronounces “party” like “par-tay,” and I can’t help the smile that ghosts across my lips at her giddiness.

Jenny is a blonde bombshell. Model thin, tan, and tall, she’s all bubbly and light whereas I almost look like a goth chick with my midnight black hair, pale complexion, and short stature. And although Jenny’s slender, she has a little bit of curves in all the right places.

Me? Nothing. I’m so thin my breasts and ass are laughable at best, and it’s not because I don’t eat because trust me. I’ve gone hungry before, and you’ll never see me turn down a meal or feign a weak appetite. I can put it away like a football player, and I’m not even the least bit ashamed of it. At barely five foot, though, I’m teeny tiny and still look like a pre-teen—no matter how much I eat.

My best friend and I are total opposites. She’s outgoing whereas I’m quieter. I’m not exactly shy, but I don’t have a desireto be the life of the party either. She’s like the light, and I’m the dark. Seriously, I was born on All Hallow’s Eve, and she was born on Jesus’ birthday, a perfect little Christmas baby.

“Come on,” Jenny grabs my hand and starts dragging me along with her, “let’s go find some hot guys.”

I roll my eyes. That’s another difference between us. Jenny is boy crazy, and I couldn’t care less about the opposite sex. I’m not a lesbian or anything, but I just don’t have any experience with men.

Survival has kept me from getting into any serious relationships. The most I’ve ever done is let a few boyfriends in high school kiss me, and I wasn’t impressed with those slobbery attempts, so I’ve never been tempted to even try anything more.

So, yeah, I’m a twenty-year-old virgin. Pathetic, right?

Jenny drags me by a table filled with Halloween-themed cookies, cakes, and other confections, and my mouth begins to water.

I pull back on her hand to try to stay her. “Let’s get some refreshments instead!” I yell to her over the pumping music.

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