Wild Cowboy Nights (Foolproof Love 1-3)

She recovered quickly, offering him a small, sad smile. “Hey, Daniel.”

“What are you doing here?” It came out too harsh, but he didn’t take the words back. Thirteen goddamn years and she chose today to show up in Devil’s Falls? It wasn’t a coincidence, and he had a feeling he knew whom to blame. He spun and pointed a finger at Quinn, keeping his hold on the pup gentle despite his growing anger. “You. What the fuck did you do?” He knew Quinn had seen Hope last month at his sister’s wedding, which meant he’d opened his idiot mouth and said something to bring her home.

You should be thanking him.

Fuck that. She doesn’t want to be here. If she did, she would have come back before now.

Quinn held up his hands. “Don’t look at me. This isn’t my style, and you know it.”

He had a point. Both his friends were more direct than to pull some shit like this. Jules, though… Daniel turned to glare at her. “This is out of line—even for you.”

For her part, she didn’t look the least bit repentant. She propped her hands on her hips. “Fun fact—Hope is a grown woman who’s more than capable of making her own decisions. She wandered into my shop and I was polite enough to invite her along. I didn’t kidnap her.” She motioned at Hope. “Tell him I didn’t kidnap you.”

Despite everything going on around them, Hope burst out laughing. Daniel’s chest gave a lurch. Fuck, the woman’s laugh could still do a number on him. All these years later, she should have sounded different from the innocent girl he’d been head over heels in love with. Too much had changed for her to still love life as much as she had back then.

Hadn’t it?

Hope shook her head, still laughing. “I can attest that I drove into town of my own free will. I take no responsibility for what happened after that cup of coffee. Jules is a hard woman to say no to.” She pinned him in place with those dark eyes. “Happy birthday, Danny.”

No one had called him that in…well, hell, in thirteen years. Hearing it on her lips nearly had him crossing the room to her and seeing what else was the same. Common sense stopped him cold. Whatever had brought Hope back into town, she wasn’t here for him. There was no forgiving what he’d done, and he’d be worse than a fool to forget that.

It took everything he had to dredge up a halfhearted smile. “Thanks.”

The pup wiggled in his arms and gave a mournful whine. He took the excuse to get the hell out of there. “Be back in a bit.” He had no intention of coming back. Forget worrying about being cowardly—the last thing he wanted to do was stand in a room with Hope Moore and make small talk. As much as the sight of her was like a rain after a long drought, there was too much shit between them.

She should have stayed away. Whatever brought her back here, it could have been avoided.

He set the pup down in the yard and crouched next to her, watching her run back and forth, still in the awkward stage where her paws seemed too big for her body. She really was a cutie. She was also going to need a name. “How about Ollie?”

“I like it.”

He turned to find Hope standing behind him. Again. “You sure move quiet when you want to.” Especially for a woman with a bum leg. Not that he could say as much without sounding like a jackass.

“You mean since I had my knee replaced.” Of course she knew what he meant anyway. Apparently damn near reading his mind was one annoying habit she hadn’t outgrown.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” She leveraged herself down next to him, the move not quiet as smooth as it’d been when she was eighteen.

Daniel almost cursed. He had to stop doing that. Comparing her now to how she was then wasn’t fair to either of them. It was another lifetime completely, and thinking about it was just fucking depressing. “Hope—”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He was so surprised by the question that he answered honestly, “Why the fuck would I bother?”

“Oh, I don’t know, because you don’t want to be a creepy old man who lives in the middle of nowhere and has to run off silly high school kids with his shotgun because they tell ghost stories about him?”

He looked at her, half sure that she was the one who’d lost her damn mind. “That’s not a thing.”

“It is most definitely a thing.” She leaned back on her hands and stared at the sky. The move arched her back and pressed her breasts against the fancy tank top she wore. It was made of some kind of drapey fabric that looked soft and shiny, and it highlighted the fact that he seriously doubted she was wearing a bra. “You’re too young to just give up.”