“Make excuses for yourself, Hardy, but I know what happened that night was real.”
Hardy kept staring into the heat of her eyes, getting lost in the sweet essence that was Angie. He used to fight it, but tonight he had to admit she was right. What they'd shared had been real. Just as real as what he was feeling right now.
He stepped close to her and cupped her face with his hands. Her skin was as smooth as anything he'd ever touched. He was always afraid to touch her, almost as if it was forbidden. He never understood why until this moment. Because she was the only woman who could make him lose himself. And he prided himself on control. Losing it for a second had brought on the guilt.
“It was real for me, too,” he whispered against her lips.
One Night
in Texas
Linda Warren
Two-time Rita® Award-nominated and award-winning author LINDA WARREN loves her job, writing happily-ever-after books for Mills & Boon. Drawing upon her years of growing up on a farm/ranch in Texas, she writes about sexy heroes, feisty heroines and broken families with an emotional punch, all set against the backdrop of Texas. Her favorite pastime is sitting on her patio with her husband watching the wildlife, especially the injured ones that are coming in pairs these days: two Canada geese with broken wings, two does with broken legs and a bobcat ready to pounce on anything tasty. Learn more about Linda and her books at her website, www.lindawarren.net, or on Facebook, at www.facebook.com/AuthorLindaWarren.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to Britany Smith for her help and advice. And, a big hug and thanks to Jaci and Addie Siegert for answering my many questions. Love you girls.
And, thank you, Tammy Medina, for sharing about your son's fractured femur. And, thanks to the ladies who answered my questions about kolaches.
DEDICATION
To: Christi Hendricks and Carousel Paperbacks.
Thanks for fifteen years of fun book signings.
Contents
Chapter One
To Angela Wiznowski the sweetest sound in the world was her daughter’s giggle: a bubbly gurgle erupting from her throat.
Angie leaned against the half-brick pillar on the porch of her bungalow-style house and watched Erin play in the front yard with her friends on a Slip ’N Slide. Today was her tenth birthday, and she’d had a fun-filled day. As the girls played with the water hose, shrieks and girlish laughter echoed through the late-May afternoon in Horseshoe, Texas.
Being a single mom hadn’t been easy, but Angie must have done something right. Her daughter was happy. It was what Angie had done wrong that kept her awake at night.
The whole Wiznowski family had been there today, along with Angie’s friends and neighbors. Everyone had come. Everyone except Erin’s father.
Angie had made that decision a long time ago, but the remnants of guilt lingered. Maybe because it had been the wrong decision. A child had a right to know her father.
It was clear now. Back then, though, everything wasn’t so black-and-white. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried to tell him, but he’d left town three days after they’d slept together for an extended vacation in Europe. Her attempts to contact him had failed. When he’d returned, he had an internship waiting for him in Houston. Angie had still tried
