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      MILLS & BOON

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      JULIE HOGAN

      discovered romance novels at the age of ten and spent her youthful summers tearing through one book after another when she should have been doing chores at her parents’ northern San Diego county avocado orchard. Luckily, in spite of a checkered past that ranged from undercover department store security to “hotwalking” Thoroughbred horses at the Santa Anita racetrack, all that summer reading paid off. After ten years in the rat race, Julie gave up her career as an Internet marketing executive and, with her English degree from UCLA clutched in her fist, finally realized her dream of writing her own romance novels. Julie shares a quiet Southern California home with her true-to-life hero husband, Jud, who inspires both her writing and her life, and two bad-tempered cats who rule the neighborhood with an iron claw. In her writing, Julie loves bringing funny and engaging characters to life, then putting them through the wringer until they realize that love is the only true path to happiness. The only thing Julie enjoys more than reading and writing romances is hearing from readers who share her mania. You can write to her at [email protected].

      This is for my parents, who, when I was an impressionable preteen, were far too indulgent and bought me far too many books with far too adult themes. If Jud and I turn out to be a fraction of the parents you are, I will consider us a smashing success. I love you both.

      This is for my critique partners past and present. Laura Wright, Julie Ganis, Tami Goveia, Patty Chung—you will never again be able to say you haven’t made a huge difference in someone’s life. And to the new La-La Sisterhood: Beth, Corinne, Doris, Teresa and Chandra—thank you for taking me into your fold. You have put the light and laughter back into this caper for me.

      This is for my mentor and steadfast coach, Barbara Ankrum. Your success speaks for itself, but you know I have to say it anyway: Your ability to give is extraordinary, your desire to enrich others is tireless and your talent for writing transcends the exceptional. I am beyond fortunate to be able to call you my friend.

      And finally, this is for my husband, Jud, who believed in me, encouraged me, cajoled me, lovingly menaced me and supported me utterly in my journey to becoming a writer. You make me laugh when I don’t want to, let me cry when I should and are the most ardent, die-hard fan. You are the very air that I am privileged to breathe. I love you with my whole heart.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      One

      When Cole Travis first drove into the town of Valle Verde, he felt like he’d taken a step back in time.

      There were no sidewalks flanking what appeared to be the main street, just well-traveled dirt paths with weeds and wildflowers growing as best they could in tufts alongside it. A group of young boys walked together, pushing each other and talking and laughing loud enough for Cole to hear them through the open window of his truck. A woman pushed a baby stroller with grocery bags piled in the bottom and a few men sat outside the hardware store.

      It was quiet and peaceful and kind of pretty. And it made him feel like he was the only person within a hundred miles who had a problem.

      He pulled up beside the gas pumps at an old-fashioned filling station, turned the key and waited for the groaning, wheezing pile of bolts and sheet metal that was posing as a truck to shudder and rattle to a stop. Cole had purchased the truck from one of his contractors just before leaving Seattle two weeks earlier and the man had laughingly called its idiosyncrasies “features.” One very special feature, he’d said, was that the truck didn’t stop until it felt like it.

      Cole sighed. Because he intended to be flying home at the end of this journey, he’d wanted a vehicle he could junk when the time came. And he’d certainly gotten what he asked for in this jalopy.

      Just then, another image out of the past appeared at Cole’s window. A gas station attendant. “Fill ’er up?” the young man asked.

      “Sure.”

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