Page 121 of Buckled in Barbwire

Does this get you excited? I sure hope so!

Saddled in Secretsis coming later this year. You can pre-order the e-book HERE.

In the mood for another country romance? Cassidy (Paisley’s cousin) has her own book. Take a peek at this excerpt fromHeaded for Home.

Someone knocks into my shoulder, sending my phone flying into the air. The thrill of my saucy read fades with my terror at the unknown fate of my beloved device. But the person who rammed into me snatches the soaring object out of midair.

“Caught it.” The masculine voice beams with pride.

I launch to my feet and whirl around to confront him, but immediately freeze. He seems just as shocked to be facing the distant past. Memories resurface while we continue our staring contest. The boy from my teenage fantasies has grown into a man so far out of my league I can’t believe he’s standing in this crowded coffee shop with me.

Our reunion was bound to happen eventually. It’s just probability. There’s a few thousand people in this community but it’s still small compared to most. Thanks to the very active rumor mill, it’s common knowledge that the former professional baseball player resides in Knox Creek. Drake Granger is a name frequently spouted around town, especially by beautiful bombshells in their early twenties with the freedom to dream big. Me on the other hand? I didn’t dare to hope that our paths would cross again. Yet here we are.

“Cassidy Brooks,” Drake breathes. His expression sobers suddenly. “Is it still Brooks?”

Whatever he says doesn’t register. I’m too busy sippingon the erotic elixir of his voice. The gravelly tone is a promise to provide endless pleasure. A whimper trickles from my parted lips. I blame the lingering effects of the scene I was reading. Or maybe it’s his eyes.

Their bottomless shade is the type of blue I could swim in until I forgot my own name. Staring feels mandatory—and is most likely encouraged—which leads me to his full lips surrounded by dark stubble. I lower my gaze to his sculpted muscles barely concealed by a t-shirt, and immediately regret it. Now my fingers practically beg to stroke over those defined edges. And don’t even get me started on the colorful tattoos that decorate both of his arms.

Drake looks like he just stepped off the set of a photo shoot advertising seduction while I’m not certain I combed my hair this morning. The wild mane could stop traffic. It’s not like I anticipated him literally bumping into me. I inhale deeply, which is another mistake. He smells like the sex I’ve always dreamed of having.

Holy horse shit, hornball. Get ahold of yourself. He’s just a guy.

My reaction is purely based on the fact that I spend most of my days surrounded by farm animals and children. Not to mention the few men I interact with regularly are more weathered than an antique saddle. It’s humbling to admit I haven’t kept the company of an attractive male since… I can’t even remember when I stopped counting.

Drake clears his throat to knock me from that lost cause. An awkward minute has undoubtedly ticked by while I shamefully ogled him. Based on the curve of his smirk, he doesn’t seem to mind the attention.

It’s only then I recall he had said something thatresembled a question. Maybe. One fact sticks out in the lustful fog my brain has become.

“You remember me?”

The notion is more presumptuous than I’d ever give myself credit for. I haven’t seen Drake since we were teenagers. Not only that but he went on to become a famous athlete who’s undoubtedly met more people than I can count.

His gaze heats on mine. “As if I’d ever forget my first kiss.”

I feel my eyes bulge. “We were just kids.”

“Doesn’t make it any less meaningful.” Drake’s blatant interest roves over me. “So?”

“Buttons,” I reply automatically.

“What?” His laugh is rich and bolder than the coffee aroma wafting around the cafe.

My cheeks get warm while fellow Bean Me Up patrons send us curious glances. “It’s just this silly retort my grandma used to toss out whenever someone used ‘so’ as a full sentence.” I chew on my bottom lip at his look of confusion. “Because you sew buttons on stuff…”

“Ah.” He nods.

My face flames hotter. “Told you it was silly.”

“I like it.” Drake’s shrug is carefree. “But what I’d like more is to know if your last name is still Brooks.”

“Is that your not-so-subtle way of asking if I’m married?”

“Can you blame me? You look…” His throat works hard to finish the statement. “Better than faded memories.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

His eyes remain glued on my curvy waist. “Definitely. Why didn’t we ever date?”

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