Page 1 of Falling Hard for the Billionaire Cowboy

Chapter one

HAYLEY

All I can do is pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration as I stare at my broken-down car. Although it’s been five years since I bought it, albeit secondhand, I’ve always made sure to service it. And now, not only am I an hour away from Redstone, the empty road stretches in both directions. It doesn’t seem to offer any solutions either.

"It's okay," I say aloud, my voice echoing to no one. "I can fix it. No big deal."

I’ve always prided myself on my ability to handle minor car repairs. It was a skill my father had insisted I learn before I left Redstone for college, and it has saved me more than once. Popping the trunk, I’m confident I’ll have the car running again soon.

As I rummage through the trunk, my heart sinks. The rusted toolbox I had inherited from my grandpa is nowhere to be found. I blink, trying to process where exactly I had seen it last. Thattoolbox was always in my car, well, except for now. It just so happens that today, of all days, it has to be missing.

"I can fix it!" I repeat louder this time, as if sheer willpower can manifest the missing tools.

I march to the driver's side, reaching for my phone. I’ll call for help, simple as that. But as I stare at the screen, I can't help but chuckle.

"Yep. Earth 2, Hayley 0."

There is no signal, not even a single bar.

At that moment, I can feel my hope sinking deeper and deeper. I can also feel my right eye begin to twitch from the mounting frustration.

If I say another "I can fix it," I just know something worse will happen next.

"So, what exactly am I supposed to do?" I groan. The reality of my other situation begins to sink in. I haven’t eaten breakfast since I planned on stopping at a truck stop. By the time lunch rolled by, I’d been too tired... well also, too lazy to stop the car.

But that isn’t all. I realize I also don’t have as much as a bottle of water with me.

"Yep, pretty smart, Hayley," I mumble glaring down the empty road. "Now look at what happened." The nearest town is too far to walk, especially in this heat and without water. I had no choice but to wait and hope for a passing car. But judging by the state of this road – that can be hours.

I lean against my broken-down vehicle, sliding down I’m sitting on the sunbaked ground.

Is it hot? Yes?

But once again, I’m too lazy to stand up.

The heat radiates through my jeans, and I can feel sweat beading on my forehead. My stomach growls, a painful reminder of why you shouldn’t skip food.

I can’t help but smirk since I can almost hear my mother’s voice.

“I might as well be going crazy,” I chuckle, getting back into the car. As I sit there, I become painfully aware of the seconds ticking by.

How could I have been so careless? The toolbox, phone charger, water, snacks - all the things I usually never leave home without. It is as if the universe has conspired to strand me here, in the middle of nowhere.

I squint at the end of the road, willing a car to appear. But the road remains the same, shimmering in the heat. So, I close my eyes, trying to quell the panic rising in my chest. I am resourceful, I remind myself. I'll find a way out of this.

Then I hear it – the faint rumble of an engine in the distance. My heart is racing so much, it feels like it’ll jump out of my chest. And without hesitation, I’m already out on the road, ready to flag down whoever is coming my way. As the seconds tick by, the rumble grows louder, and I strain my eyes to see what kind of car is coming.

Finally, it comes into view – an old Chevy pickup with an open bed, and no tinted windows. I let out a sigh of relief. "Doesn't look like a serial killer truck," I mumble under my breath, trying to calm my nerves.

It also doesn't look like a kidnapper's van. So, I’m safe? Right?

The old truck is coming, and I figure it’s my best shot at hitchhiking a ride. And from the speed at which it’s approaching, the owner of the Chevy seems to be in a hurry.

I’m also in a hurry, even better.

As it draws closer, I can see the driver's face through the windshield. I raise my hand high, waving frantically. "Hey!" I shout, my voice cracking from thirst. "I need a ride! Please stop!"

The car drives past me, and for a brief moment, I make eye contact with the driver. At that instant, I'm stunned. The manbehind the wheel is strikingly handsome, with the most piercing gray eyes I have ever seen. Time seems to slow down as our gazes lock, and a jolt of electricity runs through me.

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