âWhat can I do for you?â
Her eyes darkened to a shade of hunter green. âYou can tell me what my dead husbandâs brother has to do with you and your children.â
He felt like heâd been sucker punched. âWhat are you talking about?â
âThe rumor is that Billy Bob Adams is the one suing you for custody of the girlsâ¦. Is it true?â
She wasnât going to let it drop. She was going to force him to tell her something that would rock her world.
He let out a long breath. âOkay. You want it straight?â
âThatâs what I just said. Why would my dead husbandâs brother sue for custody of your children?â
âBecause heâs their uncle, Jen. Your dead husband is the twinsâ biological father.â
is a native Californian who has been transplanted to Texas. Having lived with her husband of twenty-five-plus years and two handsome sons, she has been surrounded by heroes for a long time. Reading has been her passion since she was a girl. She couldnât be more delighted that her dream of writing full-time has come true. Her favorite things include: holding a baby, the fragrance of jasmine, walks on the beach, the patter of rain on the roof and, above all, happy endings.
Teresa has also written historical romance novels under the same name.
There was something about a man in uniform. And Sheriff Grady OâConnor was definitely something.
Jensen Stevens didnât expect to notice. She couldnât remember the last time a good-looking guy had gotten her attention. But as the sheriff moseyed up the bleacher stairs at the north Texas high school rodeo championships, she couldnât take her eyes off him. After years in suspended animation her feminine radar suddenly switched on to signal a hunk at four oâclock.
Grady was a local rancher as well as Destinyâs acting sheriff. It was disconcerting that once heâd snagged her attention, she couldnât seem to disengage. She wondered if he looked as good in cowboy duds as he did in his lawman ensemble. His short-sleeved tan shirt and matching khaki pants with the brown-and-beige stripe down the leg suited him to a T. No doubt about itâhe was walking, talking hero material.
This was only the second time she could remember her heart skipping a beat at the sight of a man. The first was a decade ago and sheâd married him.
âHello, Counselor.â Grady sat his long, lanky self down beside her.
âHello, Sheriff.â A loud crackling came over the public address system. âSounds like theyâre having trouble with the mike.â
âYeah.â
He removed his dark brown Stetson and ran splayed fingers through his short, military-style brown hair. After propping his boot on the bench in front of him, he rested his forearm on a thickly muscled thigh and tapped his hat against his leg. His uniform looked freshly pressed, in spite of the evening heat and humidity typical of Texas in June. The shirt hugged the contours of his impressive chest and detailed his attention-getting physique. Reflector aviator sunglasses were tucked into one of his pockets.
âLong time no see,â she said.
âNot that long. I saw you four days ago. On the first day of the championships when you rolled back into Destiny in that sweet BMW convertible.â
âOkay. But not since then.â At least, not close enough to stake out her comfort zone. Like now. Sheâd only seen him from a distance, taking care of rodeo security.
In high school theyâd hung out in the same group of kids who rodeoed. Then life intervened and theyâd gone their separate ways. Since theyâd reacquainted several days before, she hadnât really thought about him. Apparently distance was her friend. Because now she couldnât help thinking he was like an allergic reaction. The first exposure had produced a mild warning. The secondâwatch out.
Grady was not hard on her eyes with his well-shaped nose, nice mouth, soft-looking lips not too thin or too thick. His jaw was square and rugged the way a guyâs jaw should be. He was a man who would turn female heads wherever he went. The rodeo was being held on her sisterâs ranch and Jensen had been a spectator every night since arriving. She was grateful that, until now, she hadnât spectated much of the sexy sheriff.
âAre you enjoying yourself?â he asked.
âYeah. I like watching,â She cleared her throat. âItâs fun to observe the high school kids interact with each other. I canât believe I was ever that age.â
âRight. Youâre practically ready for assisted living at Leisure Village.â
She laughed, then smoothed her palms over the skirt of her floral cotton sundress that didnât come close to covering her knees. When she saw him glance in that direction, she very much wished sheâd worn jeans and boots.
âYou know what I mean.â
âYeah,â he said.