Home > Perfect Cowboy (Mason Creek #25)

Perfect Cowboy (Mason Creek #25)
Author: A.M. Hargrove

Copyright © 2022 AM Hargrove LLC—Up All Night Romance (UAN Publishing)

Perfect Stranger (A Mason Creek Novel)

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in form or any manner whatsoever by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or a book review. Scanning, uploading and distribution of the book via the Internet or via any other means without permission is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support for the author’s rights is appreciated. For information address to A.M. Hargrove LLC, UAN Publishing—[email protected]

All rights reserved.

 

 

Cover by Sarah Paige

Editing Services: My Brothers Editor

 

 

This one is for all those who adore small town romances. Mason Creek rocks!

 

 

A room without books is like a body without a soul.

MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO

 

 

Contents

 

 

1. Evvie

 

2. Bo

 

3. Evvie

 

4. Bo

 

5. Evvie

 

6. Bo

 

7. Evvie

 

8. Bo

 

9. Evvie

 

10. Bo

 

11. Evvie

 

12. Bo

 

13. Evvie

 

14. Bo

 

15. Evvie

 

16. Bo

 

17. Evvie

 

18. Bo

 

19. Evvie

 

20. Bo

 

21. Evvie

 

22. Bo

 

23. Evvie

 

24. Bo

 

25. Evvie

 

26. Evvie

 

27. Bo

 

28. Evvie

 

29. Bo

 

30. Evvie

 

31. Evvie

 

Also by A.M. Hargrove

 

 

Acknowledgments

 

About the Author

 

 

CHAPTER 1

 

 

Evvie

 

 

The frown was nothing compared to the stranger that gazed back at me in the mirror. To cheer myself up, I stuck out my tongue. It didn't work. The past six months had wreaked havoc on my body. None of my clothes fit and I couldn't afford to buy an entire new wardrobe, so I rotated between the few items that worked and the plus-sized ones I'd purchased.

If I didn't get a grip on the sweets I was consuming, I'd grow out of those soon too. My mom, in her intrusive ways, kept asking me if I needed counseling. She wasn't buying the fact that I couldn't stay away from the sweets at work. That was the problem. The baked goods had ruined me and everything I tried hadn't worked. I'd even taken up running, which turned out to be disastrous. I sprained an ankle and pulled every muscle in my body. No thank you. I'd rather be plus-sized than endure that pain again.

After a long groan, I zipped up my jeans and put on my sneakers. It was time to head to work.

Java Jitters was on fire this morning. We were always busy from seven to nine, but today was absolutely crazy. I was running both coffee machines while Poppy was handing out the food orders. We had three other employees in, and we still had our hands full.

"Are they selling tickets or something?" I asked Poppy.

"I don't know, but something's going on."

One of the men standing in line said, "You don't know?"

"Know what?" I glanced up at him as I set two lattes on the counter.

"They're doing a travel show here today."

"You mean like from that travel channel?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, no. Poppy, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

I told her what the man said.

"You're joking, right?"

"No." I motioned over my shoulder, saying, "He just told me."

"Crap," she muttered. "That means we'll be overrun with franchises and tourists after people watch it."

"Jeez, I hadn't thought of that. Jessie won't like that." Jessie and Poppy were the owners of Java Jitters. Jessie was the one who'd started the business.

"Neither will Emma," Poppy said.

Emma owned a bar called Pony Up and hated franchises. That's why both she and Jessie opened their businesses here. Mason Creek had been devoid of franchises so far.

I shouted out a couple of names for the lattes that I'd made and went on to make dozens more. What was it about lattes anyway? I loved the specialty drinks here, but lattes were just fancy coffees with cream. My preferences ran along the caramel macchiatos or the mochas. Now those were the real specialties and the culprits that added to my newfound girth.

By the time the rush ended, it was well after ten and we all needed a break. I grabbed a chocolate coffee and two blueberry muffins, out of the few that were left. Poppy had put more in the oven because people bought these all day, not just for breakfast. They were the absolute best.

I'd just taken a seat when the bell over the door tinkled. I glanced up to see a tall, dark-haired guy with a cowboy hat perched on his head. He wore faded jeans and a tight shirt, showcasing his biceps. Great, just great. I knew his type. Cowboys weren't worth the time it took to say the word. In my experience, they were all cocky and thought they walked on water. Nope, they were definitely not Jesus in my book. Most of them were buttholes with a capital B.

I walked behind the counter, as most of the others were taking a short break, and asked, "Can I help you?"

As I expected, his eyes roamed up and down my body, scanning my personal landscape. Then the corners of his mouth curved up.

"Looks like you spilled something right there." He pointed to right above one of my boobs. Of course, he would notice that.

"Yeah, we had a busy morning, and I was making lots of lattes. I don't pay attention to what I spill. So, what'll it be?"

"Coffee, black, and a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich."

"Have a seat and I'll bring it out to you." I went back to the kitchen to give one of the girls his order, and then I poured his cup of coffee.

As I delivered it, he asked, "Is this the only coffee shop in town?"

"Sure is."

"I'm new here, so I thought I'd ask."

"Figured as much." I really didn't want to converse with this guy.

"Oh? How did you know?"

"Because if you were a true Mason Creeker, you wouldn't have asked that question."

"Got it. Are you?" He eyed me with curiosity.

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