Tough Luck Hero Read online

  “Who would have thought it took someone as buried as I was to find me.”

  She smiled. “I guess it takes one to know one?”

  “I’m going to set things in motion so that I’m not running the construction company anymore. And, even if it means dealing with Gage, I’m going to work it out so that it’s clear I’m not the one taking over the ranching operation when my father’s unable to run it anymore. I’m going to help. I mean, I’m not going to abandon them completely. Given his health, that isn’t possible.”

  “I understand.”

  “But I’m not going to hold back on what I want to do, either. I want that ranch to be ours, Lydia. I want to push our children on the swing. I want to make a home with you. To make a life with you. I want it to be about us, not about duty to a family name.”

  “I want that too. But, you know that whatever support you need with your family, I’m here to give it. Because if we’re together, then we’re family.”

  “Thank you.” He bent down and kissed her again. “I’m not just going to do things anymore because I’m afraid. I was always afraid that I had to go above and beyond or I would lose my family. Lose more than just Gage, and I couldn’t face that. So I did my very best to make myself indispensable.”

  “Well, you are that. Just because you’re you.”

  Colton smiled, warmth rolling over him. “I can honestly say,” he said, echoing the first words he had said to her on the morning after their wedding, “this is the last situation I ever expected to find myself in.”

  “Is it?” she asked, smiling back.

  “The very last,” he continued. “And absolutely the very first thing I needed.”

  He leaned in and kissed her, as the night breeze wrapped itself around them, mixing salt and pine in with the kiss. Approval from the town, he supposed. The thought made him smile.

  It would have been tempting for him to describe his life as a run of tough luck. From his brother abandoning the family, to his fiancée leaving him at the altar.

  Standing here, kissing Lydia Carpenter, he knew that he was the luckiest man alive.

  EPILOGUE

  LYDIA WEST’S BEDROOM ceiling had wooden beams running across it, just like the ceilings in the rest of the house. And when she opened her eyes in the morning, that was what she saw. Just like every morning.

  And, just like every morning, her husband was beside her.

  Since that morning in Las Vegas, they’d had a whole year of waking up married. And every day had been better than the last.

  Being with Colton, finally taking steps to move forward, had helped her begin to repair things with her parents. Making a family with Colton had somehow made family seem a little bit easier.

  “Good morning,” he said, a sleepy smile on his face.

  He was so beautiful it hurt. Colton was nothing but big emotion. Loving him was everything she’d feared for years.

  But she wasn’t afraid of it now. Now, she embraced it. And him.

  “Good morning.” She kissed his lips, then rolled over and slipped out from under the covers.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, adjusting his position, putting his arm up behind his head, a cocky smile on his face.

  She wanted to get back in bed with him then. But, she had a plan. It was their anniversary, after all.

  “I’m going to make you breakfast.”

  “No way,” he said, moving to a sitting position. “I should make you breakfast.”

  “I’m very particular, Colton. I like my breakfast the way I like it.” Her heart started pounding a little harder. “Anyway, you wouldn’t do it right.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t know how much I want.”

  “Oh,” he said, getting up out of bed and advancing on her. “I know how much you want.”

  She shook her head, and she knew that the cute little card that she’d designed to go on his pancake tray wasn’t going to get used, because she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “You don’t know. Because I need a little more than usual. Since I’m eating for two.”

  There was a certain symmetry to it. Looking at Colton’s completely shocked face and letting him know he was going to be a father, exactly one year to the day since he’d discovered he was her husband.

  Before she knew it, she was being swept up in his arms, and deposited back into bed. “Are you serious?” he asked, his smile so bright she thought it rivaled the sun.

  “Yes. I am definitely Copper Ridge’s first pregnant mayor.”

  “I guess I know what that makes me then.”

  “What?”

  He kissed her, deep and long. “The happiest man in town.”

  * * * * *

  Don’t miss Ace and Sierra’s story,

  ONE NIGHT CHARMER,

  available now from

  Maisey Yates and HQN Books.

  And read on for a sneak peek of

  Gage’s story,

  LAST CHANCE REBEL.

  Can the black sheep of Copper Ridge

  find redemption—and a love

  to call his own?

  “Yates returns to a western setting in her latest, and fans of Robyn Carr and RaeAnne Thayne will enjoy her small-town romance.”

  —Booklist

  If you loved Tough Luck Hero, then don’t miss Gage’s story! He’s the wild West brother, the bad seed of Copper Ridge, and he’s finally come home to Copper Ridge in

  LAST CHANCE REBEL

  Order your copy today!

  Love finds you when you least expect it in the charming small town of Copper Ridge, Oregon. Don’t miss any of the sweet and sexy stories in this irresistible series by New York Times bestselling author Maisey Yates:

  Tough Luck Hero

  One Night Charmer

  Hometown Heartbreaker (novella)

  A Copper Ridge Christmas (novella)

  Bad News Cowboy

  Brokedown Cowboy

  Part Time Cowboy

  Shoulda Been a Cowboy (prequel novella)

  Can these cowboys find the love they didn’t know they needed?

  Available now wherever ebooks are sold.

  “Part Time Cowboy is a charismatic, sensual, raw read. Funny, too.”

  —USA TODAY

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  Last Chance Rebel

  by Maisey Yates

  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. But 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 Copper Ridge’s Main Street 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 collec
t 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 superfluous 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 couldn’t place him. He was definitely good-looking enough to be a celebrity. A male model. Maybe a really hot baseball player.

  “The place looks good,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she responded, trying to sound polite and not weirded out.

  She wasn’t used to fielding random compliments on the look of her store from men who towered over her by at least a foot. Occasionally, little old ladies complimented her on that sort of thing. But not men like him.

  “You do pretty good business,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

  “Yes,” she said, taking a step backward, toward the counter. Her cellphone was over there, and while she doubted this guy was a psychopath, she didn’t take chances with much of anything. And he was being a freaking weirdo.

  “I’ve been looking over some of your financial information, and I’m pretty impressed.”

  Her stomach turned to ice. “I... Why have you been looking at my financial...anything? Why do you have access to that information?”

  “It’s part of the rental agreement you have with Nathan West. He’s the owner of your building.” She knew perfectly well who the owner of her building was. It felt a lot like making the deal with the devil to rent from Nathan West, but he owned the vacant part of Main, and she’d done her best to separate her personal issues from the man who held her potential financial future in her hands.

  Anyway, she’d figured that if she didn’t rent from him—if she found a place off the beaten path—and took a financial hit for it, then she was allowing the West family to continue to injure her.

  So she’d swallowed all her pride—which was spiky, injured and difficult at the best of times—and had agreed to rent the building from him.

  Also, it wasn’t Nathan West she had cause to hate. Not really.

  It was his son.

  Suddenly, she felt rocked. Rocked by the blue eyes of the man standing in front of her. She knew why they looked familiar now. But it couldn’t be. Gage West had taken off years ago, after he’d ruined her life, and no one had ever seen him again.

  He couldn’t be back now. It wasn’t possible.

  Well, it was unless he was dead, but it wasn’t fair.

  “I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. I’ve never cashed that chip in before, but I think I just might.”

  “Rebecca,” he said, his voice low, intense. “We need to talk.”

  “No, we don’t,” she said, her throat getting tight. “Not if you’re who I think you are. You need to get the ever-loving hell out of my store before I grab the shotgun I keep under the counter.”

  “Gage West,” he said, as though she hadn’t spoken. As though she hadn’t threatened. “I’m acting as my father’s executor. I don’t know if you heard but he had a stroke a couple of days ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. Mostly because it’s what she was trained to say when someone gave bad news, not because she felt all that sorry for him. “I don’t need to do any business with you, though.”

  “That’s not the case.”

  “Yes, it absolutely is. I’ve managed to rent this building from your father six years. And in all that time I saw him face to face only a couple of times, otherwise we went through a property manager. I don’t see why it has to be any different now.”

  “Because things are different now.”

  “Okay. Do you want to talk about things being different? I assume you know who I am.” Her voice was vibrating with rage, and she resented him. Resented him for walking into this little slice of the world that she had carved out for herself. This beautiful, serene place that was supposed to be hers and only hers. And in had walked her own personal demon in cowboy boots...

  Copyright © 2016 by Maisey Yates

  ISBN-13: 9781459294110

  Tough Luck Hero

  Copyright © 2016 by Maisey Yates

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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