life he’d known all but gone. “Twice Dumped” had been the headline, showing side-by-side photos of him grounded by the stallion and an unflattering pose of him and Shannon.
If only April hadn’t seen a recovering Risk guest hosting the Houston rodeo that day. If only she hadn’t bumped into him later at the hotel bar. If only he hadn’t been so vulnerable and open and kind to her that night, good sense might have prevailed. But they’d really connected that night, and his lovemaking led her to think impossible things.
But never in her wildest expectations had she thought he’d walk out on her the next morning without so much as an explanation, a note, a goodbye. It cheapened what might have been the best night of her life.
“Okay, I get it.”
Risk exhaled, seeming relieved. “You accept my apology?”
If he’d come exclusively to apologize, it surely would’ve meant more. “Risk, why don’t we just drop it and keep our personal lives out of this. Have a seat and we’ll get down to the real reason you’re here.” She couldn’t help the jab; he deserved it, and judging by the frown on his face, it hit the mark.
“Fine.”
They both sat down, and she pulled the file for the listing. She had one month left on her contract with the owner, Mr. Hall, and selling the $5.3 million lodge would put her struggling agency in the black well into next year.
“Let’s focus on the potential of the property,” she said.
He nodded, and his gaze roamed over the office, leisurely taking it all in. “But first let me say I like what you’ve done here. The place never looked this good when it was ole Perry Bueller’s shop.”
“Mr. Bueller was selling antiques. I had to modernize a bit, but I was hoping to keep some of the charm of the old place.”
April had opened her own real estate agency in Boone Springs one year ago with goals to be the premiere high-end listing company in the county. She’d worked for three years in adjacent Willow County learning the ropes and getting her feet wet, but when Perry Bueller decided to retire and sell this storefront property in the heart of Boone Springs, April knew it was time to take action to realize her dream of living and working in her hometown. She’d scraped together the money and transformed his rustic antique store into a modern-day office.
A teardrop crystal chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, beautiful mahogany bookcases hugged the walls and the computer-topped desks made of the finest polished cherrywood were all pieces generously gifted to her by Mr. Bueller, her late grandmother Beth’s dear friend.
“You’ve done well for yourself, April.”
She didn’t take Risk’s compliment lightly. April had worked hard, and it was nice to be recognized, but she had to keep it in perspective. She couldn’t allow herself the luxury of liking Risk again, despite his long overdue apology or his Texas charm.
The last deal she’d worked on had fallen through at the last minute. Six weeks of putting a deal together, all for naught. Her small agency couldn’t take another hit like that, and she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to sell the unoccupied lodge to the Boones. She had a mortgage to pay, a reputation to build and a desire so deep to make her dream a success, she wasn’t about to let her feelings about Risk interfere with her goals. “T-thank you.”
She gave Risk the file on Canyon Lake Lodge and pointed to the photos. “As you can see, it’s a great piece of property.”
“It’s remote.”
“I like to think of it as secluded, a perfect place for a getaway. The lodge is set back in the hills, miles away from traffic and the town. There’s something for everyone, whether it’s kicking back and relaxing or outdoor activities. The lake is amazing, and there could be horseback riding and fishing and boating. It’s a perfect place for vacationers to experience nature.”
“It gives rustic a whole new meaning. It’s overgrown. Looks like it’s falling apart.”
She held her breath. “Looks can be deceiving.”
“Or they can be dead-on.”
“There’s wiggle room for negotiation. And there’s an intriguing story behind the lodge’s history. I have the articles here.” She reached into her drawer and came up with a manila folder with articles written about the lodge from sixty years prior. “You can read up on it. The research is fascinating. I have no doubt the lodge could be marketed in a very appealing way when the time comes to book guests.”
She set the folder on the desk, and Risk flipped through the articles. “You’ve done your homework, haven’t you?”
“I always do.”
Risk looked up from the file just as she did, and their eyes met. A sizzle worked its way down to her toes. She was close enough to breathe in his scent, to be reminded of her fantasy night with him.
“I’m impressed,” he drawled in that special way he had.
She jerked back and fiddled with the papers on her desk.
“Mind if I take a better look at these articles?”
“No, of course not. Take them with you.”
He rose, and she came around the desk to walk him to the door. When she was standing beside him, he filled her space, and she swallowed hard. “I’d better get back to work. If you have any further questions or would like to see the property, don’t hesitate to call. The number is inside the folder.”
“Give me a day or two. I’ll definitely be in touch.”
“Okay, sure.”
“Oh, and April?”
She gazed into eyes that had softened on her. He seemed ready to say something but then shook his head. “Never mind.”
She closed the door behind him and slumped in relief.
After two years, she’d finally spoken to Risk Boone again.
And because of a possible sale to Boone Inc., she had to hold back on the choice words she’d reserved just for him to hear.
* * *
Normally April didn’t go out on a work night, but tonight was special. Tonight was her best friend’s birthday, and she couldn’t let the party go on without her. Jenna Mae turned the big three-oh today; it was monumental. So April donned her black party dress with silver rhinestone straps and met her friends for drinks at the Farmhouse Bar and Grill, a honky-tonk that was always bustling no matter the day of the week.
It was live band Thursday, and Jenna Mae kept glancing at the guitarist up on the platform stage. She was newly single after a disheartening breakup with a guy who didn’t know the ass end of a donkey. Jenna was better off without him, and April and Clovie had let her know it. Because that’s what friends did. When a storm was brewing, they got out their rain jackets and umbrellas and shielded each other as best they could.
April finished off her first mango margarita as all eight girls swarmed around Jenna Mae at their table near the long, handcrafted Farmhouse bar. They were
