Buckhorn, Kentucky’s favorite son has finally decided to tie the knot in a sizzling new Buckhorn Brothers novella
Adam Sommerville always thought he had it all—great family in a close-knit community, worthwhile job as a high school gym teacher and no shortage of women eager to be on his arm. But it seems his luck has suddenly run out. Because Buckhorn’s most renowned bachelor has decided it’s time to settle down—and the one woman he wants just put him firmly in the friend zone.
Hiding her true feelings from Adam has been a full-time job for the past five years, but librarian Isabella Presley is determined not to be the latest heart he breaks. The best way to get over her attraction is to find someone else to date—even if it means asking Adam for flirting tips to help her land the perfect guy. But when Adam sets out to convince her the perfect guy is him, will she face her fears for a chance at forever?
Don’t miss the other titles in the Buckhorn Brothers series, including Buckhorn Beginnings, Forever Buckhorn, The Buckhorn Legacy, Buckhorn Ever After in the All For You anthology, Back to Buckhorn and A Buckhorn Summer.
Contents
COVER
BACK COVER TEXT
TITLE PAGE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
EXTRACT
COPYRIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
ADAM SOMMERVILLE STROLLED around the perimeter of the carnival, keeping watch on the kids and checking out the different games and rides while also steering clear of the clingier ladies. Being an almost-thirty-year-old bachelor from a leading family in a small town made him prime pickings. Even in the fun atmosphere of the carnival, the sunny June weather, and the crowds who’d turned out to support the elementary school, he wasn’t safe from marriage-minded ladies. Especially when members of his own family conspired against him. Many of them figured it was past time for him to settle down.
How the hell had he gotten so old?
Thirty. The big three-oh.
He didn’t feel thirty, yet. For sure he wasn’t ready for it. Not that he obsessed on age or anything. He had a terrific life, a life he loved. He enjoyed being free and clear, taking on only those responsibilities of his choosing.
Like his insane, enormous, and awesome family.
Or his job as an elementary school gym teacher, which suited him perfectly.
But he had to admit, lately it felt like something was missing.
Maybe because he’d never planned to stay...alone.
Snorting at himself, Adam kept walking, trying to out-pace his thoughts. He wasn’t alone, not in that maudlin, depressed way. He had a wealth of relatives, plenty of good friends, and whenever he needed it, he found female companionship.
Tonight seemed like one of those nights.
The oppressive heat added to his edginess. The thrumming carnival music and laughter from kids made him think of things he didn’t have, things he hadn’t even thought about wanting.
Damn.
He definitely needed to get laid.
Wearing reflective sunglasses worked in Adam’s favor. He could scope out prospective company for later without anyone knowing, dodge left or right to avoid engaging women who always crowded his space, and he could ignore particular ladies—like Cindy, who’d just turned twenty—who he knew would only be trouble.
Just as turning thirty shocked him, so too did the idea of a female being too damn young. But there it was, the bald truth.
He was getting older and although he felt like a traitor to bachelors everywhere, he knew he needed more than giggling enthusiasm, a hot body, and blind agreement.
Pausing beneath the shade of a tall tree, Adam looked around at the colorful movement of summer T-shirts. So many women, yet thanks to this new weird awareness he had of his internal clock ticking away, he didn’t feel a single prickle of interest.
He could blame his cousin for that. She was the one who’d started the nagging about him being a bachelor. And once Amber had started, the others had chimed in and—
“Yer daddy wasn’t a glassmaker.”
Surprised, Adam looked behind him and saw Isabella Presley, the petite middle school librarian, seated on a quilt. She had her dark red hair in a high ponytail, her arms braced behind her and her legs stretched out with her sedate summer dress tucked in around her slim thighs. She’d taken off her shoes and for some insane reason, Adam zeroed in on her small naked feet.
She had painted her toenails fire engine red. Her feet looked soft, finely arched—
“Now see,” she said in her southern-Kentucky accent, “that was a hint that I’d like you to move. Your daddy not being a glassmaker means I can’t see through you.”
Isabella hadn’t been born in Buckhorn, Kentucky. No, she’d moved “up north” five years ago, yet retained her heavier drawl and an appealing accent. When she said “can’t,” it sounded like “cain’t” and always made him smile.
“I got it.” Pulling off his sunglasses, Adam moved to the side of her. “Mind if I join you?”
For an answer, she scooted over. Gazing out at the carnival crowd now that he didn’t block her view, she said, “Take a load off.”
“Thanks.” Copying her, Adam removed his sneakers and lowered himself beside her. Their arms brushed. The slightest of breezes brought the sweet fragrance of her sun-warmed skin to his nose. Every part of his body noticed.
Trying to ignore the sudden awareness zinging through his blood, he asked casually, “You supervising, too?”
“Nope. Just enjoyin’.” When the breeze picked up, parting the leaves of the overhead branches and letting in the blistering sunshine, Isabella wrinkled her nose and squinted her blue eyes. “Sure is hot today.”
Adam peeled his damp T-shirt away from his chest and nodded agreement. Heat and humidity left his khaki shorts limp. More than his shirt was sticking. “Low nineties.”
“Swelterin’.”
“Typical for this time of year.”
“Mm-hmm.” Suddenly she grinned.
“What?”
Lifting one lightly freckled shoulder, she said, “Just struck me funny, that’s all.”
Not following, he looked at her face, and smiled at the amusement there. “What did?”
“Me shootin’ the breeze with you.” She leaned a little closer until her shoulder deliberately bumped his again. “Buckhorn’s most wanted bachelor, pausin’ from his prowl to visit with little ole me. Ya gotta admit, it’s amusin’.”
With her tilted toward him that way, her face turned up to his, Adam suddenly thought about kissing. Hot, tongue-twining, consuming kissing.
With her.
Damn.
Since he’d known Isabella, he’d never once thought about getting his mouth on her.
At least, not seriously.
From the day she’d moved to his town, they’d been friendly, sometimes working together on school fundraisers or serving together on committees. Sure, he always enjoyed her company, but the fact that they saw each other within their careers at the school made anything more than friendship dicey.
Or at least that’s how he usually figured it.
Now...not so much. “Issy,” he teased back. “You flirting with me?”
Instead of denying it, as he expected, she lowered her lashes and gave a lazy shrug. “Honin’ my skills for later, ya know?”
What the hell did that mean? “No,” he said, trying to wade carefully. “I don’t know.”
“You’re a big fibber, Adam Sommerville. You know in a few hours when the sun sets and the stars come out, you’ll be findin’ yourself some company. The glasses didn’t fool me. You were scopin’ out the prospects.”
Had he really been so obvious? Rather than deny it, he asked the obvious question. “What does that have to do with you?”
Wearing the slightest of devilish smiles, she stared out at the crowds. “I’ll probably be doin’ the same, that’s all. I figure by ten at the latest, the guys left will be the available ones who’d be interested. So I might try my hand at the pick-up game.”
The pick-up game.
Why the hell did that annoy him so much? He wasn’t her keeper, he had no claim on her, and...to heck with it.
Adam yanked off the sunglasses and frowned at her. “If that’s your plan, why are you flirting with me?”
Indolent, and somehow sexier because of it, she sighed. “You weren’t listenin’? Already told you I was honing my skills.” She wrinkled her small nose. “Bein’ a librarian means I know a lil bit about a lot, but pickin’ up company isn’t in my repertoire. Knowin’ you aren’t interested makes you safe for...” She looked up at him and smiled. “Practice.”
Of all the... Feeling strangely annoyed, Adam stretched out to his back and folded an arm over his eyes. “You’re nuts, Issy.”
“Celibacy can do that to a woman.”
From his eyebrows to his toes, Adam stilled. Plunged into curiosity, he lifted his arm away and stared at her. “Celibacy?”
She gave a self-deprecating grin. “It’s been a mighty long time, that’s all I’m sayin’.”
He searched her face, a face he knew well, and saw no signs of teasing. She meant what she said.
Isabella, librarian extraordinaire, planned to get laid. Tonight. With some bozo from the carnival.
How long had she been without?
Adam thought back over the time he’d known her. Isabella had dated a few times, but he couldn’t recall her being in any serious relationship. She stayed super-involved in the school, hyper-serious about kids reading, and she put in plenty of free time assisting disadvantaged kids and those with learning disabilities.
She stayed active, with work, charity, kids.
Just not with men.
So many times he’d wondered why she wasn’t married with a few kids of her own. Anyone who knew her also knew she’d be an amazing mother. Smart, dedicated, friendly, caring...and now that he allowed himself to dwell on it, he had to admit she was cute.
Or maybe more like smokin’—in a seriously sweet and approachable way. It was her accent and teasing wit that made “cute” come to mind. That, and her understated wardrobe...fit for a librarian.
He reminded himself that her proximity at work remained an issue. Only at the moment, sitting here with her in the hot sunshine, breathing in her scent, that didn’t seem to matter much.
To be honest, he could admit the friend vibe had originated with her. From day one, she’d relegated him to “work pal” status, without ever really giving him a chance to decide if he wanted to go for more.
And now that he thought about it, that sort of burned his ass a little. He wasn’t a masochist and wasn’t into chasing disinterested women, not when there were enough of the other kind to keep him busy. So then why-
“You do seem to wander off inside your own head, don’t ya?” To take the sting out of that criticism, Isabella half smiled.
But it stung all the same. “I was just thinking.”
“No, Sugar, you were daydreamin’.” She lazily fanned her face and throat. “There’s a difference.”
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.