The prodigal son of Copper Ridge, Oregon, has finally come home
The man who ruined Rebecca Bearâs life just strolled back into it with one heck of an offer. Years ago, Gage Westâs recklessness left Rebecca scarred inside and out. Now he wants to make amends by gifting her the building that houses her souvenir store. Rebecca wonât take Gageâs charity, but sheâs willing to make a deal with the sexy, reclusive cowboy. Yet keeping her enemy close is growing dangerously appealingâ¦
Heâs the wild West brother, the bad seed of Copper Ridge. Thatâs why Gage needs the absolution Rebecca offers. He just didnât expect to need her. After years of regretting his past, he knows where his future liesâwith this strong, irresistible woman who could make a black sheep come home to stayâ¦
Praise for New York Times bestselling author Maisey Yates
âFans of Robyn Carr and RaeAnne Thayne will enjoy [Yatesâs] small-town romance.â
âBooklist on Part Time Cowboy
âPassionate, energetic and jam-packed with personality.â
âUSATODAY.comâs Happy Ever After blog on Part Time Cowboy
âYates writes a story with emotional depth, intense heartache and love that is hard fought for and eventually won in the second Copper Ridge installment⦠This is a book readers will be telling their friends about.â
âRT Book Reviews on Brokedown Cowboy
âWraps up nicely, leaving readers with a desire to read more about the feisty duo.â
âPublishers Weekly on Bad News Cowboy
âThe setting is vivid, the secondary characters charming, and the plot has depth and interesting twists. But it is the hero and heroine who truly drive this story.â
âBookPage on Bad News Cowboy
CHAPTER ONE
REBECCA BEAR FINISHED putting the last of the Christmas decorations onto the shelf and took a step back, smiling at her work.
Changing seasons was always her favorite thing to do at the Trading Post. Getting the new stock in and arranging it on her antique furniture, adding appropriate garlands and just the right scented candle to evoke the mood. It was the kind of thing she could never do in her own house, since all of her money was poured straight back into the business. So she got it out of her system here.
The air was filled with pine, apples and cinnamon spice. She inhaled deeply, a sweet sense of satisfaction washing over her.
Her store was tiny. Rent on Main Street, Copper Ridge, Oregon, was most definitely at a premium. Which was likely why every decent building on the block was owned by the richest family in town.
But she liked her modest space, stacked from floor to ceiling with knickknacks of all varieties. From the cheesy driftwood sort tourists were always after when they came to the coast, to art and furniture handcrafted by locals.
Beyond that, she tended to collect anything that she found interesting. She turned, facing the bright blue sideboard that was up against one of the walls. That was her bird display. Little ceramic birds, teaspoons with birds engraved on the handles, mugs with birds and frivolous little statues made of pinecones and driftwood to be placed anywhere in your home. All of them arranged over a beautiful handmade doily from one of the older women in town.
She kept that display all year round, and it always made her feel cheerful. She supposed that was because it was easy to identify with birds. They could fly anywhere, but they always came back home.
The bell above her door tinkled, and she turned around, a strange, twisting sensation hitting her hard in the stomach as a man ducked his head and walked inside.
His face was obscured by a dark cowboy hat. His shoulders were broad, and so was his chest. In spite of the cold weather he was wearing nothing but a tight black T-shirt, exposing muscular arms and forearms, and a dark band tattooed on his skin.
He straightened, tilting his hat backward, revealing a face that was arresting. It really was the only word. It stopped her in her tracks, stopped her breath in her lungs.
She had never seen him before. And yet, there was something familiar about him. Like she had seen those blue eyes before in a slightly different shape. Like she had seen that square jaw, darkened with stubble in a different context.
It was so strange. She wondered for a moment if maybe he were famous and it was just such a shock seeing him in her store and not in pictures that she couldnât place him. He was definitely good-looking enough to be a celebrity. A male model. Maybe a really hot baseball player.
âThe place looks good,â he said.
âThank you,â she responded, trying to sound polite and not weirded out.