Title: Tangled in Texas
Series: Texas Rodeo, #2
Author: Kari Lynn Dell
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Pub Date: February 7, 2017
ISBN: 9781492631972
It took 32 seconds to end his career.
But it only took 1 to change his life.
Thirty-two
seconds. That’s how long it took for Delon Sanchez’s life to end. One minute he
was the best bronc rider in the Panhandle and the next he was nothing. Knee
shattered, future in question, all he can do is pull together the pieces…and
wonder what cruel trick of fate has thrown him into the path of his ex, the
oh-so-perfect Tori Patterson.
Tori’s come
home after her husband’s death, intent on escaping the public eye. It’s just
her luck that Delon limps into her physical therapy office, desperate for help.
All hard-packed muscle and dark-eyed temptation, he’s never been anything but a
bad idea. And yet, seeing him again, Tori can’t remember what made her choose
foolish pride over love…or why, with this second, final chance to right old
wrongs, the smartest choice would be to run from this gorgeous rodeo boy as
fast as her boots can take her.
Buy Links:
Sortin’ the Herd—How a Real Cowgirl Cuts Off the
Strays
By Kari Lynn Dell
Nowadays
pretty much anyone can pop online and order up a full set of cowboy duds to
wear to their nearest rodeo. Which I think is awesome, by the way. The
companies that sell those hats, boots and peart snap shirts are also the
sponsors that keep my favorite sport in business. I’d be thrilled to pull into
the next rodeo and see a Stetson or Resistol on every head, and Justin or Ariat
boots on every pair of feet. But it also makes it harder for a girl to
tell…which are the real cowboys, and which are just playing the part?
Luckily, it
doesn’t take long to sort off the bleacher buckaroos. I’ve put together a few
never-fail tips to help you identify the wanna-be’s, like this one:
He props his elbow on the bar, puffs out his chest until he almost
pops his snazzy new pearl snaps, and tells the bartender to bring the little lady a drink. Actually, this
one is universal. I don’t care if he’s a pretend cowboy or a real one. Kick
him. Preferably someplace that will do a lot of damage. Extra points if you’re
wearing boots for inflicting maximum pain—and you don’t spill your beer. Because a real cowgirl always
makes sure she gets her free drink first.
Take note
of the word in bold face above. When you’ve finished reading about Tangled in Texas and enjoying the
excerpt below, come on over to my blog, Montana for Real, to find the rest
of my helpful hints. Collect all the of key words and you’ll get a free
download of the unofficial soundtrack to Tangled
in Texas.
EXCERPT
Tori hunched
her shoulders against the chilly breeze and walked around to the side of the
building. The staircase was metal, narrow and steep. No way would she let Delon
go up those alone. She went back to find him maneuvering his leg out of the
car. He hissed in pain when his toe caught on the doorframe. She stepped closer
and offered a hand. His fingers were warm and strong as always, but the clasp
of his palm against hers felt different.
The calluses
were gone. Those hard ridges on the fingers and palm of his riding hand that
had been such a raspy, delicious contrast to her most sensitive spots. The nape
of her neck. The inside of her thigh. Her nipples. She remembered how he’d
smiled when he realized what it did to her—a dangerous smile full of wicked
promises.
She let go so
abruptly he lost his balance and had to grab the open car door to keep from
toppling backward.
“Oops,” she
said. “Slipped.”
And fell face
first into another hormonal bog. Damn. She really had to get a hold of herself,
before she went totally bonkers and tried to get a hold of Delon instead. That
would be bad. Because he was her patient—and he was her past. They were both,
to paraphrase his words, fucked up. Two broken halves couldn’t make a
functional whole. Could they?
“I can make
it from here,” he said.
She stepped
back, but fell in beside him as he limped around the side of the shop. “Those
stairs are treacherous.”
“I’ve had a
lot of practice. I’ll be fine.”
“I doubt you
were half tanked before. So rather than stand back and watch you roll ass over
teakettle down a flight of stairs, I’ll just follow you on up.” His expression
went mutinous, his bottom lip poking out, and she laughed outright. “Wow. I bet
that’s exactly what Beni looks like when he doesn’t get his way.”
His scowl
dissolved into a weary sigh. “It’s been a long day.”
“Tell me
about it.” Beginning with her father’s divorce bomb, but she wasn’t thinking
about that now.
Delon grasped
the stair rail and stepped up with his good leg, then brought his sore leg
level. Tori let him get two steps above her, then put her hand on the railing
behind his, her upper body canted forward so she had leverage if he started to
sway. Her position put his butt directly in her line of sight. Dear Lord, that
was one nice butt. She yanked her gaze away, to a trio of trucks parked in a
row alongside the shop, the chrome and polished paint of the tractors gleaming
under the security lights.
A familiar
fascination tugged at her sleeve. Big rigs had a sexy mystique, like modern day
stagecoaches, the drivers perched high and proud, all that horsepower at their
command. She’d had fantasies about Delon dragging her into one of those
sleepers. Carrying her off to crisscross the country, just the two of them on
an endless road trip, town after town of strangers who didn’t know or care who
her father was. She gazed at the nearest black one, streamlined as a stealth
fighter. Climb on in, it whispered. I’ll
take you anywhere you want to go.
Her head
rammed into Delon’s elbow as he stopped on the landing. When she stumbled, he
grabbed the back of her coat and hauled her upright as easily as if she was
Beni’s size.
“Good thing
you came along to keep me safe,” he deadpanned, then raised his eyebrows. “Were
you staring at my trucks?”
At first she
thought he said butt, and her face went hot, before
she realized he’d caught her checking out the semis. “They’re pretty.”
“Pretty.” He
spit the word out in disgust. “Next thing, you’ll call them cute.”
She drew
herself up, offended. “Cute is not in my vocabulary.”
“But you do
have a thing for trucks.”
“I don’t—”
“It’s okay.
Lots of girls do.” His smile was sly, his eyes gleaming with something wild and
dangerous.
She suddenly
realized they were face to face on the landing, their bodies touching, if you
didn’t count the five layers of clothes between them. His hand was still on her
shoulder and his fingers tightened fractionally, as if he would pull her even
closer. Her heart sprouted legs and launched into a frantic gallop. Oh God. What
if he kissed her? She wasn’t ready for that. Was she? If he leaned in and put
his mouth on hers, would she shove him away, or devour him?
About the author:
Kari Lynn Dell is a ranch-raised Montana cowgirl who attended her first rodeo at two weeks old and has existed in a state of horse-induced poverty ever since. She lives on the Blackfeet Reservation in her parents' bunkhouse along with her husband, her son, and Max the Cowdog, with a tipi on her lawn, Glacier National Park on her doorstep and Canada within spitting distance. Her debut novel, The Long Ride Home, was published in 2015. She also writes a ranch and rodeo humor column for several regional newspapers and a national agricultural publication.
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