THE FORBIDDEN GROOM

SARAH GAY

LITERARY EVOLUTION
Copyright © 2018 by Sarah Gay

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and
retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
 C O NT E NT S

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
About the Author
Message From The Author
 1

T he blaring tones woke Maggie from her restless sleep. She sprang out of bed, fully
clothed, and sprinted for the pole. Her brain scrambled to process the emergency
notification broadcast over the intercom as she jumped forward, wrapping one arm and
an opposing leg around the cool metal bar. Her socks hit the apparatus bay floor in an instant. It took
her less than a minute from the time she first heard the tones for her to be suited up and in the engine
with her fanny pack and medical bag. She looked over at Kyle with a nod and the engine started to
move.
“Did I hear that correctly?” Maggie adjusted the volume on her radio. “A submerged car in
Jordanelle reservoir?”
Her captain nodded. “Never seen that before.”
“But the road is so far from the water.” She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. “How could that
have happened?”
Kyle, their fearless engineer, cranked up the siren as he approached a streetlight. “Sounds like the
car went in from a campsite near the water’s edge.”
She threw her hands in the air. “I know it’s spring, chronologically speaking, but it’s still cold
here in the mountains. Who camps in freezing weather?” She didn’t understand these crazy
outdoorsmen in Utah. California made much more sense.
Kyle managed the countless bends and curves of the narrow road as he wound around the
reservoir with expertise.
Maggie raised an eyebrow. “How many times have you been on this road, Kyle?”
“We kept a boat here when I was a kid.” He shrugged. “We were here most of the—” Kyle’s
voice broke as they pulled into the campsite and their lights shown on a couple standing at the water’s
edge. The frantic woman pounded on a man’s chest and motioned to the lake. Their clothes hung from
their bodies like the chains of Jacob Marley in Dicken’s A Christmas Carol, and their eyes held a
despair similar to what one would imagine a haunting ghost to have.
The crew bounced from the engine.
“What happened?” the captain asked.
The woman fell to her knees. “She was cold and crying, so my husband put her in the car and
turned on the engine. We were packing up when…” She looked to the water.
“She’s been down there for at least half an hour.” The man pulled at his hair. “We’ve been trying
to get her out.”
Maggie could make out the car’s shape. The top of the roof sat around two or three feet under the
water’s surface. The doors would most likely be locked. Maggie grabbed the rescue axe just as a
patrol car stopped at her side and an officer emerged.
The officer held his hand out to Maggie. “We’ve got an ambulance, rescue divers, Heavy Crew,
and helicopter on their way.”
“Good,” Maggie said in defiance as she ran to the water and dove in.
A thousand pins penetrated her skin, constricting her chest and causing her nerves to falter.
Maggie was raised swimming in the cool northern California ocean. This is nothing, she told herself
in an effort to calm her racing heart. The full moon provided limited light once Maggie reached down
past two feet. She was now completely blind. She returned to the surface, took in a deep inhale, then
immediately plunged deeper, feeling her way through the water until her hand hit something hard.
She pushed herself deeper as she ran her hand down to a door handle. She pulled with all her
strength on the handle as she pushed off the door with her feet for sufficient resistance to break the
glass with the axe in her other hand. Her hands ached from the cold as she struck the window with
force. The glass held firm. In anger and frustration, she struck again and again.
Maggie swam to the surface, breathed in another long breath, and dove back down. She altered
her position slightly and released the axe with waning strength but increased determination.
A soft ting echoed through the water as glass shards fractured and floated around her. Maggie
pulled herself in through the window frame, reaching forward until her hands located a body. She
thought to open the car door from the inside but didn’t have more than a few seconds of oxygen
remaining in her lungs. She willed her body not to breathe in the water as she pushed the little girl’s
body out the window and then followed.
When Maggie reached the water’s surface, she immediately pushed the young girl’s head out of
the water. The girl was stick-thin and looked to be around seven or eight. Maggie’s legs and free arm
treaded the water at a rapid pace to keep them both above the surface. She blew two breaths in the
girl’s mouth before a strong hand grabbed her arm and pulled her toward land.
“Thanks, Kyle,” she said once she regained her breath.
He gave her a stern look as they climbed onto the bank and laid the girl onto her side to expel any
water, then repositioned her onto her back where one of the paramedics was ready to continue mouth-
to-mouth. “Sometimes you forget we’re a team.”
“Sorry.” Maggie raised her eyes to the medical helicopter as it landed. “I just thought that you
might try and stop me.” She challenged him with a look. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“She’s not responding,” the paramedic said after performing chest compressions. “We need to call
her.”
“Let me try,” Maggie voiced with determination, motioning for the paramedic to step aside. “I can
bring her back.”
Maggie continued with the chest compression until Kyle touched her shoulder.
“It’s time,” Kyle said in a heavy voice. “We need to hand her over.”

THREE HOURS LATER, Maggie slammed her yellow Jeep into park and glanced at her phone before
pocketing it. No new emails. The results from her DNA swab should be in today. Her body tensed
from the cold as she jumped out into the frigid air. Her yellow slicker boots hit the pavement with a
crunch. If she wore her spring boots then maybe Mother Nature would act accordingly. No luck, still
icy. Late April often meant spring blossoms, but in Park City, Utah, Jack Frost still utilized his
tomfoolery to produce a thin layer of morning ice to tease and torment.
As a firefighter, Maggie loathed icy roads. Slick roads meant accidents and accidents meant
death. She grabbed the cloth grocery sack out of the back seat and rested her shoulder against her
jeep’s cool metal frame. She breathed in the fresh mountain air, filling her lungs to complete capacity,
and then some. She appreciated air more than ever today. The moisture from her breath clung to the
water particles in the air as she slowly exhaled.
She needed to pound some pans together and feel the warmth of Pineapple’s smile.
Maggie took one last steadying breath before making her way through the parking lot to the
Polynesian restaurant’s glass door. She ran her hand along the ribbed lanyard around her neck,
glancing down before tinkering with the keys to find the one to the restaurant.
On her mornings off, she had full reign of Pineapple’s kitchen to explore the world of culinary
delights as she pleased, often creating a French meal for Pineapple before his workday began. Today,
she’d make the two of them French onion soup—the perfect comfort food. Then she’d help Pineapple
prepare for the lunch rush before sneaking home to take a nap. Her body craved sleep, but her mind
habitually tormented her the moment her head hit the pillow.
Culinary therapy would clear her mind and release her tension before she returned home to her
solitary studio apartment. She had researched equestrian therapy when she realized how traumatic
responding to horrific accidents could be, but anything involving a horse was super expensive.
Horses spoke to a part of Maggie, and brought her a type of joy, that no one else ever had—but she
couldn’t afford a horse, so she stuck with cooking lessons instead; something Dax, a firefighter from
the other shift, told her had helped him through his PTSD.
Maggie wiggled the key into the keyhole. A soft warm breeze tickled Maggie’s ear, causing her
mind to fly back to a balmy summer afternoon in Healdsburg, California. Rosco shakes his head,
causing the dust from his mane to produce a fog-like affect in the waning afternoon sunlight. I
relax the reins as I lean forward in my saddle and wrap my arms around his neck. My cheek
brushes the bristly, burnt-red hair of his mane, causing a warmth to erupt in my chest.
Rapid, high-pitched beeping from the alarm panel woke Maggie from her happy thoughts. She
stepped over to the pad and disarmed it. She missed Rosco. If only she could find an authentic,
assiduous cowboy.
She shook her head at her naiveté. She had come to Park City after the Sonoma Valley fires
decimated Vernay Vineyard where she and her family had worked for over a decade. Tori Terrence
had offered for Maggie to come stay with her family in Park City. Tori’s late husband had been a
cowboy and Tori was convinced that if Maggie had her eyes set on a cowboy then all she had to do
was come live with her for a few months, but it didn’t prove that easy.
At first, the intimate charm of the small mountain town saturated Maggie’s soul; everything was
more romantic when new and unfamiliar. Once a rough-n-tumble miner’s town, Park City was now
elegant and refined; a little too refined for Maggie’s taste.
Having been a firefighter here for over a year, nearly every street held a dark memory for her, and
last night one more horrific memory was added to her repertoire of nightmares.
Maggie walked through the dining area with firefighter t-shirts from around the world adorning
the walls and brightly painted wooden tables and chairs. She smiled to herself at how Pineapple’s
invoked a sentiment of reliving one’s childhood, with primary colors splattered across the furniture
and the scent of sweet bread hanging in the air. She skipped into the kitchen, her feet growing lighter
with each step deeper into the restaurant.
She set the oven to preheat then carried her bag to the center of the room to the long metal counter
and began offloading her groceries onto the shiny surface.
Would she give up her career? She loved so many things about firefighting. She earned good
money, enough to be completely independent. Her male co-workers were amazing; they treated her
like one of the guys, which was all right with her. Her fellow firefighters were attractive, but most of
them had girlfriends or wives. Thankfully, they behaved like gentlemen.
It should have perhaps offended her that none of her single co-workers had asked her out, but how
could she blame them? She’d never been accused of being overly feminine. She never wore make-up
and always kept her long, straight black hair pulled up through a baseball cap or set in a messy bun on
top of her head. Growing up, the neighborhood boys accepted her as one of their own.
And she was tough. By the time she turned fifteen, even with her petite frame, she could carry
close to what the adult men in the fields and vineyards could. Now, at twenty-four, her strength
enabled her to snag a job as a firefighter. Hiking up a mountain with a hundred pounds of gear was not
for the faint of heart.
Maggie would have settled for a ripped firefighter, but she was better suited for a farm boy or a
rancher who could appreciate her work ethic and strength. It was time to expand her search.
“Dallas, Texas, you’re looking better by the minute!” she exclaimed as she organized her
ingredients.
She rotated a Vidalia onion in the air to examine it. It resembled an alien space saucer, flat and
aerodynamic. “You are beautiful.” The flatter the sweeter, as the onion mantra goes.
As Maggie turned to hang the empty grocery sack on the wall hook behind her, the back door
slammed shut. No one should be in here. Pineapple never comes in this early. Ever since Dax’s
girlfriend was attacked by her serial killing stalker a few months back, Maggie had been on edge. The
stalker was currently in jail awaiting trial, but what if Maggie had her own stalker?
She stumbled, grabbing the hook for balance as she took in a sharp breath. She ducked down onto
her hands and knees and scrambled to the drawer beneath her soup ingredients. Her fingers fumbled
through the drawer until she held firm to the handle of a butcher knife.
Heavy steps neared, causing Maggie’s breath to quicken and her heart to pump chilled blood
through her pulsating veins.
“Margarita!” Pineapple’s voice echoed through the kitchen.
Maggie sat up, rested the knife in her lap, and gave a dramatic exhale. “You scared the daylights
out of me,” she scolded, returning the knife to the drawer as she stood.
Pineapple’s round, expressive face held a look of concern. “Sorry Mags. You okay?” He was the
only person she allowed to call her Margarita or Mags.
Pineapple was the restaurant owner and a firefighter on the other shift. He’d taken Maggie under
his wing when she started working with Park City Fire. What’s more, when he discovered she was in
culinary school on her days off to give her mind a rest from the trauma, he placed a key to his
restaurant in her hand. If anyone had earned a ticket through the pearly gates, it was Pineapple.
“I’ve never seen you in this early.” Maggie tucked her shirttail into her jeans and pulled up the
socks inside her slicker boots. She was a mess after that scare, not to mention her lack of sleep.
“What’s going on?”
He shrugged. “I heard what happened last night and wanted to check on you.”
She gave him a tender smile as she wrapped her arms around his thick, soft center. “Thanks.” She
buried her face in his cotton shirt and breathed in his sweet, citrusy scent.
His large palms held the back of her shoulders in a protective way. “Want to tell me about it?”
She shook her head, but the words spewed from her mouth, “I couldn’t revive the little girl. I was
able to emotionally distance myself at first…but then her mother appeared.” Maggie’s tears absorbed
into Pineapple’s cotton shirt. “I never want to see the face of another mother when she realizes her
child is dying. There are no words for that expression—and no way to purge my mind of her agony.”
Maggie took in a deep, shaky breath. “My job was to save that little girl. I failed.” Her voice trailed
off to nowhere.
He patted her back. “Your job is to respond quickly to an emergency and do everything in your
power to save lives. Did you do that?”
She rubbed her nose and forehead into Pineapple’s drenched shirt as she nodded. She appreciated
Pineapple’s effort to quiet her soul. He held her for another minute until she relaxed her grip on him
and placed a hand over her heart. “Responding to horrific accidents is affecting me more than I
thought possible.”
Pineapple motioned to the front of the restaurant. “Let’s sit down.” He led her to a table by the
front window with a view of the snowcapped mountain and pulled out her chair.
“Thanks,” she sniffed out as she slumped into her chair.
Pineapple cupped his hands over hers across the table. “What can I do to help?”
She bit her lower lip as her eyes studied the bright blue swirls on the tabletop. “I wish I knew.”
“I’ve never seen you this down before. Do you want something warm to drink?”
She rubbed her irritated eyes. “Warm is what I need.” She squeezed his hand. “And lots of sun.
I’ve been offered…” She hesitated. She didn’t want to give herself, or anyone else, false hope—but
she didn’t want to keep it from him either. She lifted her chin. “I was offered a trial position in
Dallas, Texas as the caterer for an event planner with the possibility of taking over her business in the
future. I leave in two weeks and I’ll be there for only a few days while I’m off the clock here. If
everything goes well, I’ll commute for a bit, then move there permanently.”
Pineapple wrinkled his forehead. “Dallas?” He tapped his fingers on the tabletop thoughtfully
before his face broke into a full smile and he slapped an open palm down onto the table. “That’s
great! I have a cousin who plays football there.”
“Football?” She lifted an eyebrow and gave him a teasing smile. “Can he still read after all those
hits to his head?”
“I sure hope so.” Pineapple shook his head as the room filled with his contagious laughter.
Maggie loved listening to his cheery exuberance.
“He’s super talented. Some football players sweat it week to week, hoping their team won’t cut
‘em. But not Cole—he’s someone to be reckoned with on the football field, not to mention he’s
wicked smart.”
“Sounds like a great guy.” She gave a slow bat of her lashes.
“I could set you two up,” he said with eagerness.
Her eyes widened. “No. No.” She shook her head and waved her hands in front of her chest,
enacting the universal slow down symbol. “That’s not what I meant. Something tells me we wouldn’t
match up well. I’d be extremely content with a simple rancher.” She straightened her spine to show
her determination. “That’s my idea of happiness.”
“Cole might surprise you,” he said with a wink.
She stood. “Well, I’m going to surprise you with a delectable soup.”
He followed her to the kitchen. “What can I do to help?”
“Peel the onions.” She handed him four onions.
“Yeah, you might want to forget about Cole,” he laughed out. “With all these onions, no one is
going to come near either of us.”
 Maggie shook her head with amusement. “Don’t knock it. I’m French, remember?” Her mood had
definitely improved. “And all the better. There’s no one I’d rather spend the morning with than you.”
She bumped his side with her hip.
“We’re making French onion soup?” Pineapple questioned with disappointment.
“Why the long face?”
“I was hoping you’d make me Mexican food one of these day.”
“Oh, that.” She waved a hand dismissively in the air. “You know I can’t cook Mexican food. I ate
it as a kid, but never learned how to cook it. I experienced a little bit of the Mexican culture growing
up, but my parents were adamant that I lead a more…” she looked to the ceiling for the right word.
“Promising life than they did as migrant workers. I guess they didn’t want me working in the
vineyards forever. They understood what it felt like to be put down and discriminated against and
didn’t want me to experience the same thing, so they sent me to the schools with more affluent kids. I
did my best to fit in. My fair complexion and blue eyes must have helped with that, but I always felt
different. Like I didn’t quite fit the mold.”
“Where did your crystal blue eyes come from?”
“Even though my dad is partially Mexican, most of his ancestors came from France. We’re still
not sure where my dad and brothers got their height, they’re both over six feet, but I’m guessing that’s
where I got my blue eyes.” She arranged the beef bones, carrots, beef scraps, and onion slices into the
roasting dish for the beef broth. “I think.” She shrugged as she drizzled olive oil over the broth
ingredients. “According to my dad, that’s what his grandmother told my him. My dad’s stories are
engaging. Unfortunately, you never know exactly how much of his stories are fact versus fiction. He
tends to embellish. His stories could be ninety percent fiction and ten percent truth—or ninety percent
truth and ten percent fiction. But I want to know my heritage for sure, so I did that…” She waved a
carrot in the air. “DNA swab.”
“Isn’t Cinco de Mayo a celebration of when Mexico kicked the oppressive French out of their
country?”
She raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Mexico won the battle against Napoleon and the French
scurried off with their tails between their legs.” She tipped an imaginary hat to Pineapple. “You know
your stuff. I guess my great-great-great-grandparents decided to stay in Mexico rather than head back
to France with Napoleon. I chose French culinary classes to learn more about my French heritage, or
at least experience their culinary delights.” She licked her lips. “And I must say, the French sure know
how to indulge in the most glorious way.”
“When do you get those DNA results back?”
Maggie placed the roasting pan into the heated oven and grabbed her phone from her pocket.
“Today,” she trilled with excitement.
As she opened her email app, she did a little nervous patter of her feet as if she were a little girl
who needed to use the restroom. Her inbox contained three new messages, but her eyes only focused
on the one with the subject line, Ethnicity estimate and DNA matches. She placed her phone on the
counter, face up, and took in a deep breath.
She rubbed her palms together feverishly. “Here goes nothin’.” She tapped her screen to open the
email. Her eyes flew through the percentages but narrowed when her brain caught up with her sight.
She crossed her arms with a grunt. “What?” her voice squeaked.
 2

C ole let out a woot as his four-wheeler hit a jump and caught some serious air. He didn’t
normally ride this fast along the narrow dirt road between Tri-21 Ranch and the country
store, but it was his twenty-eighth birthday and he would celebrate it in the good, old-
fashioned style—with a boatload of adrenaline.
During off-season, when there wasn’t a quarterback to sack on the field, he had to get his
adrenaline rush in other ways. Racing down a desolate road seemed a relatively safe alternative. At
least he would only injure himself if he bailed, but he never drove that crazy, or in areas where no
one would find him.
His ATV rides also provided him with solitude. He enjoyed his quiet time on the ranch to think
and reboot his brain after the previous year’s stressful football season. His head was in the game 24/7
when football season revved up in the fall.
Spring training would slowly roll out over the next few weeks, but spring training was nothing
compared to fall workouts where the team would be sequestered in dorms and put through intense
drills, plays, and mental preparation. Cole gave everything to the Texas Titans, but he couldn’t
complain. His income matched his dedication, but he needed that money to accomplish his charitable
goals.
His philanthropic endeavors kept him focused on what was real. That and his mother. He could
hear her voice. Don’t let all that money, or those sexy dressed women clawing each other’s eyes out
to catch you, go to your head. No one he brought home ever seemed good enough for his mom, but,
contrary to popular belief, he didn’t date all that much.
The general population thought him to be a determined bachelor. It gave him a mystique that his
agent and PR firm capitalized on. It didn’t really bother him either way what people thought, and until
he found a hot, spirited girl to hang with, he would appease everyone and acknowledge his preference
to remain single.
In reality, he couldn’t wait to find a girl to settle down with, but there wasn’t much settling down
as a pro-football player. He considered himself lucky. His married teammates were away from their
families for weeks at a time, traveling from state to state. Even when the team was in town, they were
almost always training in some fashion. Being a football pro didn’t leave much time for family life
when football season rolled around.
Cole shook his head with a sigh. He felt bad for his married teammates; the temptation to cheat
was unyielding and ruthless for NFL players. His mother hadn’t been far off in her assessment that
lots of girls would claw at each other for a chance at an NFL football player. Unfortunately, many of
his teammates couldn’t withstand the temptation. That wouldn’t be him. When he dedicated himself to
something, like his dream of being in the NFL, nothing stopped him—and he was determined to love
harder than he played on that field. Someday he would find the woman he couldn’t live without, and
when he did, he’d do everything in his power to keep her.
His cell phone interrupted his internal thoughts. He pulled off the side of the road into a
wildflower patch to answer the incessant ringing.
Cole grunted when he saw the number. “Hey, Dad.”
“Have you cut your hair yet, son?”
That didn’t seem like much of a question—or a birthday salutation. “No. I thought it might help me
look more intimidating on the field.” That was a lie, but every time his father pushed him, he pushed
back. He couldn’t blame his father for hating his unkempt appearance. He did look like Sasquatch
with his long hair and the scruffy beard he’d been growing out since off-season began. His wild locks
and wooly beard had been a disguise to keep the press and gawkers at bay, and it proved effective.
This past off-season he had only been hassled a few times.
“Son, I need to know if we can plan on you for Mother’s Day.” His father’s deep voice paused.
“We’re having a surprise party for your mother at Pineapple’s and you need to be there.”
“Sorry to disappoint again, but I’m being auctioned off next weekend to the highest bidder. The
arrangements have already been made by my PR firm and the press to have the date at the ranch the
following day, on the eve of Mother’s Day.”
“What?” his father almost shouted. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“I know. It’s for work and to help Vets. Sorry to do this to Mom, but I’ll send her some nice
flowers and give her a FaceTime call when you’re all at brunch.”
He envisioned his father’s red face on the other side of the line. Cole had always been a
disappointment to his father—this was no different. Unfortunately, he’d become accustomed to the
degradation and now just avoided home altogether. He would like to be there for his mom for
Mother’s Day, but the auction was mandatory and it would raise money for Veteran Affairs. His
mother understood, even if his father didn’t. Cole released a succession of sneezes. “Dad, I need to
call you back.”
“Typical.” Click.
Cole’s jaw tightened as he allowed his shortcomings and resentment to sink deep into his gut. He
shook the menacing phone in his hand, wound back his arm, and hurled it through the air. It whistled
before landing amongst the hairy stems of Indian blanket. He blinked his itchy eyes as his nose
dripped with irritation.
He slumped back into his seat and rubbed his palm deep into his cheek with a laugh. “That was
stupid.” He needed to get away from here to escape his allergies, not trounce through the beautiful,
sadistic flowers. He jumped from the four-wheeler and stomped toward where he believed his phone
had landed, only to be forced to stop suddenly another sneezing attack when the Indian blanket
lambasted him with pollen.
The flower resembled a Fourth of July pinwheel with its burnt red center and yellow tipped
petals, giving off an all-American feel. Texas really was a patriotic place. Texas could, however, take
a lesson or two from Wyoming, his home state, on how to throw a Fourth of July firework show—but
other than that, you couldn’t get much more patriotic than Texas.
Cole tapped his watch. Glorious ping. Modern technology had once again saved him from his
unruly temper and the menacing flowers.
 3

M aggie bit at her lower lip as she scooted her mini cart down the fish aisle of the
international market. Two weeks after her breakdown at Pineapple’s, she’d managed
to make it to the Lone Star state.
Pineapple had been adamant that she meet his cousin during her three-day work trip to Dallas.
She’d told Pineapple to give her time; she was super stressed about the event and needed to pull it off
without a hitch before she could think about anything else, especially men.
The function she’d been hired to cater was a cozy meet and greet for subscribers of a local online
dating service and doubled as a benefit for Muscular Dystrophy. She’d thought she’d find most of the
ingredients for the event here at the eclectic grocery store which boasted goods and produce from all
over the world from China to Africa to South America, but there wasn’t a French section to speak of.
She hadn’t been able to locate large enough escargot to work with, or fresh ripe cherries for the
clafoutis custard desert.
She tapped her foot and peered up at the industrial ceiling for answers. The pipes were exposed
in a simplistic yet contemporary motif. She always wondered if the designers cackled at how much
money they saved while still charging their clients top dollar when they asked for the more modern
design.
After checking the clock on her phone, she shook out her hands to stay her nerves. Her time was
short. Preparing French food required time and lots of it. Good thing she’d spent the entire day before
her trip baking a hundred of her signature macarons. It wasn’t exactly her signature recipe. Elise, the
French baker in Midway, had taught Maggie how to make an authentic French macaron, then Maggie
developed her own sui generis flavors. Although she didn’t drink, Maggie considered it fate her
macarons paired well with Veuve du Vernay Brut Rose wine since the vineyard where she worked
most of her life was named Vernay Vineyard. The vineyard sold its grapes to the highest bidder, then
the bidder did with them as they pleased, so Maggie didn’t actually know if the buyers ever made
Veuve du Vernay Brut Rose wine with the grapes.
And so it goes with an item up for bid; the seller has little control of what a buyer does with their
goods once they’re sold.
We are no better than our worst thoughts, settled on her mind. It was one of her mother’s
favorite sayings when Maggie acted peevish and ungrateful.
Maggie retrieved the artisan lemongrass bar soap out of her cart and brought it to her nose.
Sniffing soap in the fish aisle of grocery store in downtown Dallas was not exactly a day at the spa,
but it could assist with transitioning her perspective to a more positive one. She closed her eyes and
took in a deep breath. So what if I’m not French—like I thought my entire life? That doesn’t mean I
can’t cook an amazing French meal and land my dream job.
It had shaken her when she’d read the DNA results two weeks back—not one percent. Not one
speck of French blood. This past year she’d been crafting delightful French cuisine, all the while
thinking she was discovering a piece of herself that had never been explored, to find that—nope—no
French blood. She was forty-five percent Native American; no big secret there since her maternal
grandmother spoke a native language and wore her hair in braids when her grandfather first met her.
Her grandfather, the one they thought was French, turned out to be Greek and Italian. Or maybe just
Greek or Italian and the other grandparents were a mixture as well. What a letdown.
We are no better than our worst thoughts. Think positive. A zesty Greek salad was a fave of
hers, as well as a fresh caprese salad. Perhaps she could now specialize in Greek and Italian food?
But not today. Silver, her boss for the weekend, was expecting Maggie to prepare a compilation
of rich French appetizers and deserts to spark romance in the hearts of subscribers of the local online
dating service, Dallas Dating.
“Yes!” Maggie shouted when she caught sight of enormous scallops on the other side of the
frosted glass. “Can I have five pounds of those, please?” she petitioned the attendant who scowled at
Maggie’s outburst. Maggie didn’t mind the crusty look; her luck was turning up. She could still make
Coquilles St. Jacques as planned with scallops smothered in cream, butter, and wine sauce, then
sprinkled with savory mushrooms and shallots and topped off with freshly grated Gruyere cheese that
would turn a golden brown when broiled to absolute perfection.
Maggie’s mouth moistened. She should have eaten at some point today, especially before coming
to the market. Would she pass out from hunger right here in the middle of aisle? She was starting to
think that a very real possibility as she stumbled to reach for the scallops.
“Do you have any fresh sushi, or deli sandwiches?” Maggie questioned the attendant.
The plump middle-aged woman shook her head. “We make fresh sushi in the mornings, but only
enough for the lunch crowd.” She held her watch out in front of her as if her sight were failing. “And
seeing as how we’re coming up on two o’clock, you’d be lucky to get the last pre-made sandwich
from the Italian deli.” She pointed to the Italian section of the store.
“Thanks,” Maggie said with enthusiasm as she turned and bounced toward the deli counter. She
let out a soft squeal of delight when she reached the counter to find one long sandwich resting behind
the Mozzarella, Prosciutto, Pesto, and Plum Tomatoes chalk sign.
A young boy in his late teens smiled brightly at her. “Can I help you?”
“Yes,” Maggie almost screamed. “I’d like that sandwich, please.”
“You got it.” He quickly wrapped the sandwich in white paper, scribbled on the wrap, and set it
on the counter with a thunk. “Anything else?”
Maggie shifted a few steps to one side to peruse the selection of olives. “I may want—” A large
hand interrupted her peripheral vision as it retrieved her sandwich from off the counter. “Hey!” she
exclaimed, turning to a wooly mammoth of a man dressed in baggy shorts and a stained t-shirt. He
towered over her like a large white beast, but at least he didn’t smell like the Yeti he resembled. In
fact, he smelled delicious enough to eat. Man, she was hungry. She regained her composure and
narrowed her eyes at the Sasquatch making an appearance in a Dallas delicatessen.
“Thanks, Benji!” he said to the boy with a smile.
The teenage boy’s face grew scarlet as his eyes bounced from the hairy monster to Maggie and
back.
“Benji, is it?” Maggie raised her brows. “You just wrapped that sandwich for me.” She pointed to
herself.
 The hairy giant waved Maggie’s sandwich in the air. “I apologize, but I really need this.” His milk
chocolate eyes looked sincere, but what a jerk!
Maggie glared at Benji when he held up a poster featuring a pro football player on it for the hairy
giant to sign. So, this arrogant guy had been a football star. Figured. Jocks did whatever they pleased.
She crossed her arms and tapped a foot as he turned his back to her and strode away. “I guess
that’s what I’d expect from a self-centered, jerk-faced jock,” she called after him.
He waved the sandwich in the air but didn’t turn around to face her, which infuriated her even
more. She clenched her fists. Why was she letting this guy get to her? Hunger. She didn’t do well
when she reached near starvation. With a look of disdain, she directed her anger at Benji. When he
caught her glare, he threw his arms in the air in defeat.
“Tell you what I’m gonna do for you.” By Benji’s tone and car-salesman-smirk, you’d think he
was offering her a cruise to the Bahamas. He leaned into the counter and lowered his voice. “I’m out
of fresh bread, but I’ll make you an Italian salad, on the house.”
She sighed out her resignation. “Thank you.”
We are no better than our worst thoughts. Be positive and a positive outcome will follow. She
determined to finish the day with a smile on her face to compliment her optimism, and that
cheerfulness would start right now.
“Benji,” she said in a softened voice. “I appreciate how you try to make everyone happy, even
when your customers can be demanding and impatient.” She was speaking more of the inconsiderate
football player than herself, but recognized she wasn’t entirely free of fault either.
Benji’s lips tilted up at the corners and his eyes brightened. “Anytime.”

COLE SPRINTED through the parking lot of the grocery store with the coveted sandwich in hand. The
damp afternoon heat was downright suffocating, but he’d grown accustomed to the climate. What
smothered him more than the dense air was the guilt that prickled at his conscience when he thought of
how the petite, princess-eyed woman with the messy, muffin-hair bun laid into him. His actions could
have come off as somewhat selfish, he admitted, but where did she get off calling him a jerk?
Benji always had a sandwich prepared for Cole on Thursdays. It had been an honest mistake. And
once the sandwich was in his hands, he couldn’t let sweet Gracie down. It was her favorite, and she
was known to be downright unreasonable without it.
He had gotten to know Gracie through a good friend on the team, Ace Sanchez. Gracie was Ace’s
sweet step-daughter with Down syndrome who stole Cole’s heart the moment he met her. Cole started
Tri-21 Ranch to help the trisomy-21, or Down syndrome, kids through equestrian therapy.
Cole stewed over the deli girl’s words during his thirty-minute drive back to the ranch. He pulled
onto the gravel entrance to Tri-21 Ranch with her steel blue eyes still showering icy rain on his
spirits.
When he reached the stables, a few of his football buddies were already booting up, as they liked
to call it, when they swapped out their street shoes for their cowboy boots. The players who
volunteered at the ranch proved tender hearted. Cole never expected such affection from the huge
offensive linemen who were all aggression on the field. Bears with hearts of gold would be a good
description for these men he now considered to be his brothers.
Cole jumped from his truck and lifted his chin to them in greeting. “Hey.”
 They nodded back as Cole lowered the back of his truck to access the supplies he had purchased
in town. “Mind helping offload?”
Cole hadn’t associated much with the offensive linemen before last year, being a defensive
linebacker. His training sessions were often separate and with a different focus. The offensive
linemen were a good deal heavier than he was—with substantially larger girths. They could inhale an
entire pizza in a matter of seconds. Cole always made sure he had several large pots of chili or other
simple but hearty dishes ready for his buddies to chow down on after their volunteer time.
When they finished off-loading, Cole strode into the grub house to check on the chili. The aroma
of red meat, cumin, and chili powder saturated the air.
The dining hall, or grub house, wasn’t much more than a barn with large windows and expensive
flooring. The high rafters were deep chocolate stained beams crisscrossing ten feet above his head.
Twelve long, wooden tables divided the room equally. A few staff members bustled about the room.
Rosita pulled at his arm as she kissed his cheek, her customary greeting. Rosita was heaven sent.
She ran the kitchen and organized the guests’ daily activities with precision and care.
“Señor, I can only work one more week.” Her compassionate face contradicted her destructive
words as they whistled through the air like armed missiles. “My husband got a job as a CPA in New
York City and we leave in two weeks. But no worry, I be here for your big date tomorrow night.” She
winked at him before singing out, “I’m making something extra especial.”
Cole’s mouth dropped open before his eyes widened. Blowing out a breath, he regained his
composure. “Congratulations!” he said with excitement. But what he meant to say as he watched
Rosita skip away was, You can’t do this to me now. We have our big Tri-21 season’s end celebration
at the beginning of June. That was only three weeks away. And this year, his ranch would be
featured in one of those reality TV shows that spotlights the nation’s up-and-coming philanthropic
outreaches. The camera crew and directors were set to arrive the day before the guests.
When football season ramped up, the ranch wound down. Cole’s future goal was to have a Tri-21
ranch in every state, fully staffed with horse whisperers and therapists to guide these precious Down
syndrome kids and educate their parents on how to cope and best navigate the needs of their children.
The reality TV episode could help him with that goal, or not, if he couldn’t find someone capable of
taking Rosita’s place. Silver Sanchez, Ace’s wife, sprang to his mind. She was as event planner. She
could salvage the event.
“Alexis,” he spoke to the speaker on the counter. “Call Silver Sanchez.”
It only rang once before Silver’s melodic voice answered. “Hey, Cole. What’s up?”
“Good News: I picked up Gracie’s favorite sandwich. Bad News: My arm was just cut off.”
“Dramatic much?” she said flatly.
“Seriously. My right-hand man, Rosita, just told me she’s quitting. I need your help.”
“Name it.”
“You know the Tri-21 Camp June 4th through the 8th that Gracie will be attending?”
“Yeah,” she replied with concern. “Do you need it catered?”
“Yes.” Instant relief washed over him. Silver would come through. “And I need someone on the
ground to help coordinate and run everything behind the scenes when I’m helping the therapists, kids,
and staff. Organization isn’t my thing. I need someone at the helm assisting the film crew, etc.”
“Oh.” Her intonation didn’t sound promising.
“Please tell me that Oh is an Oh, I’m so excited to do it.” He pulled at his thick beard. “It would
pay extremely well.”
“I’m out of town that week. Gracie will still make it to camp, but she’s staying with my in-laws
when Ace and I open up a new restaurant in Phoenix.”
“If you think of anyone—”
“Wait,” she cut him off. “I double booked tomorrow evening, so I hired a go-getter to help with an
event, enabling me to focus on the bachelor auction. Why don’t you stop by at my other function
before the auction and taste a few samples of the gourmet French dishes she specializes in? Come see
if you two mesh.”
“French food at my ranch?” he questioned with amusement.
“You’re such a snob, Cole,” she rebuked him.
“How is that being snobbish?” He scratched at his head above his ear. “Seriously though, can she
cook anything else?”
“Just stop by before you’re treated like a prized pig at auction and sold to the highest bidder.”
He tsked his tongue at her. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Sorry. I couldn’t help it.” She laughed. “The night Ace was auctioned off was super stressful and
emotional for me, but it brought us back together.” Her voice lifted an octave as if she were drifting
off to a fantasy land. “Tomorrow night could be just as magical for you.”
Instead of saying seriously sarcastically, he used the intonation to say, “Silver?”
“Just come to my other event and I’ll introduce you to her. I’m texting you the address now.” Her
voice held an edge of irritation. “I’ll be there between four and five to check on things before I head
back to the auction.”
He knew Silver was trying to help, and he’d be up a creek without her. “I appreciate it.” He
replaced his sarcasm with gratitude. “Do you mind if a few of my buddies tag along to meet your
French caterer? They’re helping me at the ranch and then giving me a lift to the auction.”
“Seeing as how the other guests will not have arrived by then, I’m sure you’ll all fit in the
building,” she teased.
“You’re a funny lady.” He gave a courtesy laugh. “We’ll be there.”
 4

“W hat do you think?” Maggie adjusted her phone on the industrial, twelve-foot kitchen counter
for Pineapple to gain a better view of the bite-sized appetizers in their little white parchment cups.
The shiny metal trays, which held hours of her sweat and tears, splayed across the entire length of the
countertop. “And I thought being a firefighter was tough.”
“That’s impressive.” Pineapple gave her a thumbs-up. “Wish I could try them all.”
“I wish you could too.” She puckered her lips into a pout. “I need my seasoned taste-tester to tell
me if I need to add more tarragon to the mini-quiche or a shake of sugar on the chocolate eclairs.” She
puffed her satisfaction out the side of her mouth like a true Frenchman. “Here. I’ll try this one for
you.” She slowly placed a scallop fresh out of the oven on her tongue and sealed her mouth over the
warm delight as she closed her eyes.
Pineapple grunted. “I’m looking away now.”
“Mm.” The creamy, delicate flesh of the scallop replaced the salty crunch of the toasted cheese as
Maggie slowly bit down. “You are definitely missing out.” She opened her eyes to a blank wall.
“Pineapple?”
“You finished torturing me?” He stepped back into the frame.
She laughed. Pineapple always brought sunshine to her soul. “I’ll make you these when I get
back.”
“Hey, did you ever hear from my cousin?”
“Pineapple,” she scolded, accusation saturating her voice. “Did you give him my number?”
“You’re in a big city and all alone.” He shrugged. “I worry about you.”
“Well, if all goes well tonight, I’ll have to get used to being all alone in this big city.”
“When is your flight back to pack your bags for the move?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” She waved a hand in the air. “I have a flight to Utah tomorrow
afternoon. I need to be at work Monday morning. That one day will give me some time to unwind, and
hopefully sleep all Sunday, because I sure haven’t gotten much sleep. I’ve been up since four this
morning baking.”
“Stop by Sunday morning,” Pineapple encouraged. “I’m hosting a brunch for my family for
Mother’s Day.”
“Of course you are. Always serving others.” She gave him a tender smile as she relaxed her
elbows into the counter. “That’s why I think the world of you. Can I help you prepare the brunch?”
“I think you’ve cooked enough. Just stop by to meet my family and have a bite.”
She arranged the scallops on the platter. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Give me a ring later and let me know how the event went.”
 Maggie gave him a shaka sign and pushed the end button. She pulled at the bottom of her long
white chef’s jacket to adjust the fit. Her hair was up in it’s typical bun but controlled in a hairnet.
She reviewed the appetizers and desserts. With an hour remaining before the guests were
scheduled to arrive, she had the food plated on their trays and ready to go out. All she needed to do
was place the trays on their stands around the banquet room and she was golden. Silver had been a
gem to work with. Maggie balled her fists with excitement. Dallas could be her next home.
“Howdy!” came Silver’s familiar sing-song greeting as she entered the kitchen. She stopped
suddenly when she caught sight of the filled trays. “This looks amazing! But I must warn you.”
Silver’s composure shifted to a motherly one as her chin tipped down and her eyebrows lifted. “The
first rule of event planning states: No matter how thoroughly you plan an event, something always
goes wrong.” She tapped her watch. “And nothing has gone wrong with the auction yet, so I’d better
head back there after I help you place the trays.” She pointed to Maggie. “You’ll come over as soon
as you finish up here, right?”
Maggie nodded.
“Good,” she said with a sigh. “Because this little quiet gathering here,” she pointed to the floor,
“is nothing compared to the boisterous soiree you’ll find at the auction. You need to be at the auction
to see if this is really what you want to do. If you still want to live in this world of bringing magic
into people’s lives after the auction tonight, then we’ll sit down and talk tomorrow morning.”
Maggie folded her arms. “Nothing’ll change my mind.”
“Fabulous.” Silver nodded. “Now, you’ll want to wear an evening gown to the auction. Did you
bring one?”
Maggie’s mouth went dry. “Evening gown?” she squeaked out as perspiration gathered on her
upper lip. She’d never gone to prom or homecoming. She’d never even worn anything fancier than a
cotton dress to church.
“I want us to blend in. We’re there as facilitators, not chefs.” Silver wrinkled her nose and
scrunched her lips as she grabbed a tray and motioned for Maggie to follow her to the banquet room.
Maggie picked up a tray of eclairs and followed Silver to the carpeted room with its mosaiced
ceiling, granite pillars, and crystal chandeliers that cast a thousand sparkles of soft light across the
warm mustard room. At the entrance to the room stood an elegant circular table with a frosted crystal
donations vase. An easel stood to the side of the table with simple and direct instructions on how to
donate through a phone app in seconds. Framed photos of children with Muscular Dystrophy
surrounded the vase. “You don’t get any classier than this,” Maggie said, setting her tray on a stand.
Silver blinked her freshly applied lashes as she lifted Maggie’s arms up from her sides by her
wrists. “We’re close to the same size. I’ll drop off one of my dresses at your hotel on my way to the
auction. I know just the one.” Silver winked. “You’ll look stunning in it.”
“Thank you,” Maggie responded with a whisper of gratitude as they walked back to the kitchen to
retrieve their second round of trays.
As they arranged the remaining trays onto their respective stands, not a word was spoken. Maggie
found herself speechless, which didn’t happen all that often. The only food they left in the kitchen
were Maggie’s signature macarons. Per detailed instructions from the dating service, the macarons
were to be wrapped in packages of one or two. The packages of one were to be given to the guests
who remained single at the end of the evening as a sad consolation gift, and the packages of two—as
a recognition of sorts to be shared together by those couples who paired together during the event.
Maggie contemplated how she’d feel leaving alone at the end of the evening with a single macaron.
Seemed like a twisted joke.
 “Oh!” Silver exclaimed as she grabbed her purse from off the counter. “I almost forgot. I’ve got
someone.” Her eyes wandered down to her side as if deciding how much information to share. “A
prospective client will be stopping by shortly.” She tapped her watch. “But I can’t wait for him. Just
find out what he needs, and we’ll discuss the details later.”
Silver bolted out the door, leaving Maggie to scratch the back of her neck and question aloud,
“What he needs?” She picked up the sifter of powdered sugar she’d used to dust the cream puffs with
as she leaned her back into the counter. She tapped the side of the sifter, watching the fine white
powder waft through the air as she contemplated Silver’s riddle. “What who needs?”
“If you’re asking me?” a man boomed. “I need to find out who made these!”
Maggie jumped at the deep, sultry voice behind her, causing the powdered sugar to puff up one
side of her face. She turned toward the banquet room as she blew the sugar she’d inhaled out her nose
and mouth and blinked away the white powder now caked onto her lashes, causing her vision to
cloud. By the amount of powdered sugar thrown into her face, she must’ve resembled Casper the
ghost.
A heat of embarrassment blasted through her chest and settled in her cheeks when she saw the
gorgeous colossus who had caused her to jump.
An elegant, clean shaven Hercules stood formal and erect in a black tailored suit with his hand
outstretched to her in greeting. His long golden locks were pulled back behind his ears. She had a
sudden urge to twist his curls in her fingers. It reminded her of a popular YouTube parody of how to
properly do a man-bun. The muscular guy in the video demonstrates the proper hair-styling technique
with his shirt off. She, and every other woman who enjoyed that video, didn’t watch it five times to
learn how men accomplished that great feat, and yet that guy had nothing on this Hercules. This
prospective client of Silver’s was gorgeous.
He cocked his head to one side and wrinkled his brow moments before he relaxed his shoulders
and dropped his outstretched hand to his thigh for support as he bent forward in laughter.
Maggie reached for a kitchen cloth to wipe her face, finding enjoyment in his laughter. She should
have been offended at how he laughed at her, but his laugh engaged her in a relaxed, familiar sort of
way.
“I’m sorry,” he laughed out, swiping the tears of laughter from his eyes with the palms of his
hands. “But thank you.” He shook his head as he regained his composure. “I really needed that to calm
my nerves before I head into the lions’ den tonight.”
“Lions’ den?” she questioned, wiping her face with the thin cloth.
“Silver didn’t tell you? I’m a Titan.”
She nodded with a coquettish smile and a raised brow. “I can see that.”
“No.” He returned her smile with wink, causing her heart to race. “I’m a Texas Titan.”
The space around her suddenly grew ten times larger, or perhaps she shrunk down to the size of a
mouse. He hadn’t been flirting with her, just stating a fact. She couldn’t remember the last time she
had been this embarrassed. Perhaps in sixth grade when that mean boy lifted her skirt on the
playground. She gave that boy a bloody nose and never wore a skirt again.
He stepped around the counter to her, picking up another towel as he rounded the corner. Her
respirations quickened as his seductive gaze rested on her lips. He had winked at her, but maybe it
was a flirtatious wink and not a know what I’m saying? kind of wink like she originally thought.
“Here, you missed a spot.” He lifted the cloth as he took two more steps toward her. His feet
shuffled then slipped on the powdery floor.
Instinctively, Maggie widened her stance, slapped her forearms in a crisscrossed manner to his,
and grasped tightly to the thick muscle below his elbow as she bore down into her legs. She held him
from falling all the way the floor, allowing him to regain his footing. Once he steadied himself, they
simultaneously blew out a sigh of relief. With their arms still linked and his eyes settling back on her
lips, they stood motionless—as if the moment were worthy of being cherished, or at least
remembered.
He cleared his throat. “How did you do that?” he questioned with apparent surprise.
She shrugged, looking from side to side. “Do what?”
He loosened his grip on her arm, but she refused to let go of him and stop the flow of energy
between them.
“How did you manage to pull me up?” He squeezed her arms gently. “I weigh more than twice
what you do. How’d you pull me up instead of falling on top of me?”
She stood a little taller at his compliment. “Thanks. I’m sure you’re used to girls falling all over
you, but like you said, I’m not that kind of girl.”
With him so close, she took the opportunity to examine his defined muscles. They rippled under
his white fitted dress shirt like her grandmother’s washboard. Her eyes moved to his broad shoulders.
Sugar must have sifted off her and onto him when he went down. “You have powdered sugar on your
suit,” she said apologetically. “Here, let me get it off.”
She picked up a third cloth from the counter and began dusting off his suitcoat. The first two
cloths were now settled peacefully on the floor with the menacing film of sugar. Good thing she’d
bought a stack of fresh towels before the event.
He grabbed another cloth. “You missed a few areas on your face earlier.” He gently wiped the
cloth across Maggie’s forehead, down the right side of her face and rested his fingers under her chin.
“Why do I feel like I know you?”
Her face heated and her palms moistened at the realization that this gorgeous man was flirting
with her. She hadn’t expected to find someone to swoon over this quickly, but here he was in front of
her. She had never felt this strong of a connection with anyone before. The magnetic pull to him
overpowered her, causing her body to lean in to his.
She slowly blinked, allowing her black lashes sufficient time to convey their message and rose up
onto the balls of her feet as his face lowered. She rested her hand on his left shoulder as her other
hand cupped his freshly shaven cheek. His skin was soft and creamy, as if it hadn’t seen wind or sun
in months.
A zip of heat shot up her spine as she ran her fingers down his neck, examining the strong cut of
his jaw and the faint cleft in his chin. Before his lips reached hers, she raised her eyes to his. His milk
chocolate eyes had a familiar look to them.
Panic hit. “Selfish jerk-face?”
He wrinkled his forehead. “Sassy deli-girl?”
Maggie gasped. He looked like a completely different person with his locks tamed and no facial
hair.
Heavy footsteps entered the kitchen. Maggie whipped her head to the sound.
A huge man entered the kitchen from the banquet room. “Sorry.” His shoulders slumped forward.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
The jerk-face grunted as he took a few steps back from her. “You’re not interrupting anything,
trust me.”
Maggie’s hands flew to her waist and her eyes narrowed. “About what I’d expect from a—”
“Hold on.” He held up his hand. “You mean a selfish, jerk-faced jock.” He bowed. “At your
service.”
The jerk’s companion shrugged and shook his head. “Look, man. You can trust us with your little
secret that you’re no ladies’ man. We never see you with anyone. It’s cool with us,” he motioned to the
jerk and then to Maggie, “if you want to settle down with a nice, sweet girl.” His head bobbed from
side to side. “Who may not be that…glamorous. No worries. We all do. It’s okay, man.”
Maggie crossed her arms and stared at him, contemplating if that was meant as a compliment or
not.
When he caught her eye, he threw his hands out in front of his chest apologetically. “I think you’re
amazing. And it’s not just because of your delicious food.” He teetered back and forth from one foot
to the other. “Okay.” He nodded like a schoolboy. “It is because of the food. Do you have any more?
It’s so good.”
Maggie took in a quick breath as the second panic round immobilized her. She coughed out,
“More food?”
Jerk-face sprinted out of the kitchen with an, “Oh no.”
Maggie remained frozen. It couldn’t be. The event would be ruined. Not possible.
The jerk returned. “Yeah,” he said slowly as if hesitant to disclose a misdeed. “My buddies
cleared out the appetizers. Just point me to the rest of the food and I’ll get it out there before any of
the real guests show up.”
She blew out a long breath, slowly lowered herself into an Indian style seated position on the
hard, sugar dusted floor, and closed her eyes.
“Deli girl?” he said as if petitioning where he could find more food.
“That was everything.” She took in a deep, calming breath and held up her pointer finger for him
to give her a minute to think. For a split second she thought to give him her other finger, but she
refrained. She could do this. She’d been in worse predicaments than this before. As a firefighter, she
helped others through the worst day of their lives. She could help herself through this one. She
clasped her hands together as she jumped to her feet from her seated position in one fluid movement.
He touched her arm. “I’ll call Silver and have her family—”
“No! Don’t call Silver.” Maggie shook his hand away. “I can do this.” She glared at him. “But it’s
time for you to leave.”
He dipped his chin, accepting his banishment. “We’ll clean up on our way out.”
As he left the kitchen, she whispered to herself, “Because that’s what jerk-faces do, they abandon
the damsel they’ve distressed.”
There was only one thing to do. Maggie went back down onto the floor, but this time she fell to
her knees and asked for some much-needed assistance.
The door creaked back open. “Deli girl?” His voice held a kindness and sincerity completely
unexpected.
Maggie jumped up to his quizzical gaze. “Yes?” She patted the white powder from off her black
pants.
“Silver’s in-laws will be here with plenty of food in less than an hour.”
Maggie scowled as she shook a finger at him. “I told you not to call Silver!”
“I didn’t.” He gave her a wicked smile. “I called her mother-in-law. Good luck tonight, deli girl.
I’d switch places with you if I could. I’m off to the selfish, jerk-faced, jock bidding block.” He said
jerk-face in a mocking tone, as if she’d been childish in using those immature words.
They were immature words. The worst words that Maggie and her brother could come up with as
kids to offend each other, and now those were the words that sprang to Maggie’s mind when someone
ticked her off. When she was young, Maggie thought they were the naughtiest words in the dictionary,
until her brother taught her the “F” word. Her mother was shocked when Maggie told her that her
brother had called her the “F” word. Her mother immediately removed her shoe to threaten poor
Daniel with—until she realized the word was freak.
Maggie would have laughed at jerk-face’s comical expression. He had contorted his facial
muscles reminiscent of a prisoner on their march to the guillotine, but she was still livid at how the
football players had eaten every crumb of food in ten minutes flat. How would she salvage the event?
 5

M aggie had to gain control of her frazzled nerves; she had no idea if the food would
even arrive. Silver’s in-laws owned a Mexican restaurant. Silver had explained how
she and her husband had recently taken the restaurant brand and opened additional
restaurants. The restaurant expansion was why Silver needed someone else to manage her event
planning business with the possibility of taking over. With Maggie’s current predicament, taking over
Silver’s business didn’t look like a very real possibility—considering she didn’t have any food to
serve the guests.
The evening’s theme also needed to be changed from French to Mexican ASAP. She stepped over
to the computer hooked into the surround system and change the playlist to Latin tunes. The banquet
hall looked the same as it had earlier, only now with empty trays. At least she was one step closer to
Fiesta versus French bistro with sultry Latin music piping through the walls.
As she gathered up the empty trays, it took concentrated effort to hold back the tears over her
wasted effort. She glanced over at the donations jar which now sported several hundred-dollar bills.
We are no better than our worst thoughts. Be positive and a positive outcome will follow. Positive:
At least the football players had contributed to the evening in some way. Positive: She was standing
in a gorgeous room. Positive: She was healthy, strong, young, independent. Positive: She had her
firefighter job to go back to and Park City was headed into its fabulous spring, summer, and fall
combined seasons of two short months. Positive: Her family would support her in whatever she
decided to do or wherever she wanted to be. Positive: She was savvy and creative; she could figure
this out.
Enough affirmations. She was now pumped up and ready to do this. She checked her watch. Forty-
five minutes had passed since the football players left. As if on cue, the back door to the kitchen
swung open and the aroma of cilantro, lime, and steak filled the air. Her spirits climbed with the scent
of fresh salsa.
“Margarita!” A plump woman, with thick silver threads streaking through sections of her hair,
greeted Maggie with a wet kiss to her cheek. “Silver told me all about you.” This sweet woman was
the only non-family, other than Pineapple, who caused Maggie’s heart to warm at hearing her given
name, Margarita. The woman’s accent and inflection reminded Maggie of her Mexican-Indian
grandmother.
The woman rattled something off in Spanish. Maggie caught one or two words, but they were
spoken so rapidly she couldn’t decipher their meaning.
“Sorry, mija.” The woman said as more people filtered in with crates of food. “You don’t speak
Spanish?”
 Maggie shook her head as she bit at her lower lip.
“I’m Fabiana, Silver’s suegra.” She paused. “Mother-in-law. Sorry you look like you come from
La Colonias or maybe Chiapas? Where’s your family from?”
Maggie had never been told she looked Mexican before. A feeling of belonging suddenly burned
in her chest. “Around Puebla.”
Fabiana nodded. “Bueno, well, no more time for chatting.” She swung her arm in the air and
directed her assistants, one-by-one, as they filed into the kitchen.
As each person passed Fabiana, she said their name in an aside for Maggie, then gave them
directions in Spanish. Maggie caught a few names: Veronica, Jorge, and Ariana. Veronica looked
similar to Fabiana, possibly sisters. Jorge had a thick mustache and Ariana sported sassy short black
hair with gold hoop earrings that nearly touched her bare, bronzed shoulders. Maggie found it hard
not to covet Ariana’s toned body. Maggie was tough, but Ariana’s body had a sexy, graceful touch to it
that Maggie could only dream of having.
Maggie located a large bowl for the chips and assisted in plating the remaining cups onto the
trays. Miraculously, all the food was out on the stands in less than ten minutes. Maggie’s pleas to
heaven had been answered.
“Fabiana,” Maggie said in a tone of thanksgiving. “I can’t thank you enough for showing up last
minute to save my hide.”
“Mija,” Fabiana said, pulling Maggie into a hug. “Fue un placer. I’d do anything for my Titan boys
and Silver.”
“How did you manage to prepare all this food and get it here so quickly?”
She shrugged. “With Ace and Silver opening up all the other Los Tios restaurants around town,
we’re less busy, gracias a Dios. Sometimes I would get so dizzy from work that I could barely see in
front of me. Don’t worry.” She’d caught the concern on Maggie’s face. “My boys, Ace, Axel, and
Antonio, stayed back to man the restaurante for me esta noche until we get back.”
“Oh.” Maggie wanted Fabiana to know she could leave. “Please don’t feel like you need to stay
any longer. I have this under control now that we have food for the guests.”
“Yes, that Cole,” Fabiana said with a what should we do with him sigh, then looked at Maggie for
a few long seconds. “I can see how you’ll keep him on his toes and help him see what’s important.”
She squeezed Maggie’s hand. “He has a kind heart, but he needs a good woman like you.”
“No.” Maggie cleared her throat as she held up a hand. “We are not together.” But she liked his
name. Cole was a strong, simple name that fit his physique. But she had to get that name and his
amazing body out of her mind because he was also a jerk.
“Really?” Fabiana said as she packed up the remaining boxes. “Because he said you were the
most amazing woman he’d ever met.”
“He said I was what?” Maggie didn’t mean to sound surprised or desperate, unfortunately, that’s
exactly how the words came out.
Fabiana stood taller with a smile of accomplishment splitting her face. “He said they ate all your
food for the party and he would pay me five times my normal catering rate if I dropped everything to
come and fix what he ruined.”
So, the jerk-face had distressed Maggie, but hadn’t abandoned her.
“Margarita,” Fabiana said. “I want you to meet Gracie.”
A young girl around seven or eight ran to Fabiana’s open arms.
“I love you, Mama Fabi.”
“Te quiero, mija,” Fabiana said in a sing song voice to Gracie. She turned to Maggie. “Gracie’s
our sweet nieta. Silver’s oldest. Silver’s baby is with my son Ace right now.”
“At the restaurant?” Maggie said with surprise. “Oh, Fabiana you need to go.”
Fabiana clicked her tongue as she waved away Maggie’s concern. “All my babies were raised in
the restaurant. It’s where they learned to work hard and eat well, but most importantly, that family
means everything.”
With hesitation, Gracie released her grandmother and scooted over to Maggie. Maggie grinned
down at the tender girl lovingly. Gracie resembled Silver, with striking blue eyes and golden hair, but
her features differed in that she had the distinct features of a child with Down syndrome. “Well hello,
you beautiful, sweet girl.”
Gracie wrapped her arms around Maggie’s middle and gave her a tight squeeze. “I love you!”
Gracie shouted.
Maggie returned Gracie’s embrace. “I love you too, Gracie.”
Ariana peaked in through the doorway of the banquet room. “The guests are starting to arrive, and
they’re going crazy over the food, Mamá!”
Maggie wanted to stay wrapped up in the unconditional warmth of Gracie’s embrace, but she had
work to do. “Ooh. I’d better get out there.” Maggie gave Gracie a little squeeze before releasing her.
“Now that all the food is set out, I’ll just have to stand with my hands at the ready behind my back and
smile sweetly when the guests ask the location of the bathrooms. Thank you so much, Fabiana.”
Maggie hurried to the banquet room to find Ariana at the donations table, shaking hands and
smiling at the guests as they arrived. She was smart. Here was a gorgeous woman directing the eye,
and the donations, to the right place.
The next two hours proved uneventful. Silver’s family had all left. A few appetizers remained on
each tray and the singles had begun to pair. Maggie tilted her head to the side, concentrating on how
the couples interacted. She didn’t have much experience with flirting and took the opportunity to study
how these singles communicated.
Ariana came to her side. “Almost time for the dancing.”
“I thought you’d left,” Maggie said with surprise. “And dancing? This event is only supposed to
be appetizers and then the couples were to go off for dinner or a cocktail if they hit it off.”
“They could do that. Or…I could help solidify their attraction with a little Salsa and Mambo.”
Ariana did a Latin swish of her hips.
“Does Silver know about this?” Maggie bit at her lower lip. “And are we sure Dallas Dating
would be good with it?”
“Silver will know momentarily. And the Dallas Dating representative who was here earlier was
thrilled the entertainment wouldn’t be on their dime.” Ariana tapped her phone as she continued.
“Cole feels really bad he messed things up for you tonight and told me he’d give me three thousand
dollars if I stayed to DJ and teach some dance moves. As they loosen up dancing, these couples will
bond and have a good time. Not to mention, I’ve been wanting to remodel a bathroom at my gym and
this is a fun, quick way to do that.”
At the mention of Cole’s name, Maggie felt the skin of his cheek in her hand. Her body warmed
from the memory of their connection. She shook her head. She had to concentrate. If Silver was
onboard, Maggie wouldn’t sweat it. “I don’t see a problem with that. We have the building until
eleven. I can come back after the auction to clean and lock up if you think people will want to stay.”
“They may even want to donate more.” Ariana winked. “I’ll put another plug in for Muscular
Dystrophy when I’m DJing.”
“I’ll check in with Silver, but it sounds like you know what you’re doing. If she’s good with it, so
am I.”
“Now,” Ariana wiggled her eyebrows, “what are you going to wear tonight to the auction?”
“Silver dropped a dress off at my hotel,” Maggie responded.
“Silver’s dresses are gorgeous, and they should fit you. And the shoes?”
Maggie’s eyes bulged. “Shoes?”
“What size are you?”
“Seven and a half.”
“Here,” Ariana said, taking off her stilettos and handing them over to Maggie.
“I would trip and die in those!” Maggie exclaimed.
Ariana laughed. “Okay, I have a pair of sexy sandals in the kitchen that will show off your toes.”
She paused as her face wrinkled up in thought. “How are your feet?”
“Fine. I think,” Maggie said with hesitation. “I mean they’re not unsightly or repugnant.”
“Unsightly? Repugnant? Did you just walk out of a Jane Austen book? You crack me up,” Ariana
laughed out. “I hope you stick around, Maggie.”
Maggie’s stomach tightened. “I’m not so sure…after I botched this event tonight.”
“You botched up tonight? Please get that thought out of your head and go help Silver at the auction.
This is nothing compared to what she’s dealing with there.”
“You’re right, I need to get to the auction,” Maggie said as she turned for the kitchen. “Thanks
Ariana.”
We are no better than our worst thoughts. Be positive and a positive outcome will follow, ran
through Maggie’s mind as she hopped into her rental car to jet back to her hotel and change. She
dreaded the thought of wearing a formal gown. And it would only happen once in her lifetime, so
she’d need to take a selfie, or her family would never believe her, or Pineapple. She felt bad that she
hadn’t set aside time to meet Pineapple’s cousin. Perhaps she’d call him from the airport on her way
back to Park City.
 6

“H ow long do you think this’ll take?” Knox said, cutting his eight-ounce steak in half and
popping one of the two sections into his mouth.
Cole shrugged as he took another bite of mashed potatoes. He’d learned to let Knox talk if he
wanted to. When Knox was in a one of those moods—like he was tonight—Cole kept quiet. Knox
was a Vet and the only reason he’d agreed to be auctioned off tonight was to raise funds for his
brothers in combat.
“I’m up first.” Knox finished off the remainder of his steak in one bite. “Do you think I can leave
out the back when I’m finished, or do I need to sit back down?”
Cole wanted to tease Knox by saying something childish like, Do I stink or something? But Knox
would most likely growl at him and shut down. Cole played it safe with a “Not sure.”
Was there even a back way out? Cole turned in his seat to glance behind and to the side of their
table at the stage. The thick, burgundy curtains hung closed.
Cole was equally as eager to get this over with as Knox. He shifted back around to face the
enormous open room of the conference center to the fifty or so round tables with hungry women in
fancy gowns picking at their plates as they pointed up at the football players on display at the long
table at the front of the room.
The platinum blonde, plump-lipped woman who basically accosted him earlier during the pre-
auction mingle, Jolene or Jackie, sat two tables away. Jackie removed a delicate rose scarf from
around her neck and waved it in the air at him as she fanned her neck with her other hand. She
continued by giving a him a slow wink. Cole cringed. He had to remind himself why he was doing
this. He returned her wink with a kind smile before initiating a conversation with his buddy to escape
her eye.
“Where’s Wilder, Clark?” Cole sometimes called Walker Kent Clark, as in Superman. Not just
because of his name and the fact that he resembled the comic hero; Kent was a real hero. He had been
a helicopter pilot for the military, tasked with transporting special operations forces, but didn’t talk
about it often. He’d been dishonorably discharged for disobeying a direct order. Kent risked his life
and career to save his soldiers out on the battle field. To Cole, Kent was a hero through and through.
Cole thought the world of Wilder as well, but like his name, he could be a wild card. Although,
being late wasn’t his M.O. “Wilder’s never late.”
“He doesn’t have the best attitude about tonight,” Kent responded. “I hope he didn’t bail.”
“I don’t blame him.” Cole motioned to Wilder’s empty chair. “I’d rather be somewhere else
tonight as well.” Cole had the eerie feeling that the puffy lipped lady was staring at him. “And with
someone else.”
 Kent punched Cole in the arm and laughed out, “You should be in heaven, Carmichael.” He
motioned around the room.
But the only thing Cole saw were hungry eyes, deep green carpet, and menacing flower
arrangements on each guest table that made his eyes itch just thinking about their allergenic potential.
Kent continued, “And look at all these lovely ladies dying to go out with you.”
“Not looking,” Cole responded, putting his head down as he took a hearty bite of his steak.
He bit down into the buttery meat with ease. It was tender and savory, but nothing compared to
those gourmet appetizers the deli girl made. Dang, those were amazing. What was even more amazing
was the instant connection between them. Even with her face hidden behind a mask of sugar, he’d
been struck with a blast of love at first sight.
When she’d grabbed his arms and lifted him up, whoosh, that got something going inside of him.
Then she recognized him as the guy who’d stolen her sandwich, preventing their kiss. He should’ve
apologized to her when she realized he was the jerk from the market, not teased her like he had, but
who uses words like jerk-face? He shook his head and chuckled at her sweet innocence.
“I know who I’d rather be with right now,” Cole sighed out. “How about you, Kent? Would you
rather be with one of these ladies here tonight, or with someone who’s incognito?”
“Is that a trick question?” Kent wrinkled his face. “Because you know my luck with women. I
don’t do relationships.”
Cole laughed as he slapped his knee. “I wouldn’t make that face anymore, or no one’s gonna bid
on you tonight.”
“Right, we’re suppose to charm.” Kent positioned himself forward, sat up straighter, and smiled
his Superman smile.
Cole rolled his eyes as a few women in the audience ahhhed. Nothing new. Chicks always went
crazy over Kent’s perfectly aligned teeth and debonair smile.
The lights flickered then dimmed slightly before a spotlight lit the center of the burgundy curtains.
The curtains pulled back and disappeared before a beautiful woman in a bright pink dress emerged.
He recognized her as Maia something or other. Her voice graced the silver screen as an animated
princess. His stomach twisted looking at Maia, his auctioneer.
She flashed her brilliant white smile. “Let’s bring on the Titans!” Her voice echoed across the
open room and back, giving the sensation of sitting in a theatre and watching an animated flick with
the kids from the ranch, but he wasn’t. This was worse than getting kicked in the shin by his horse last
week.
Beads of sweat formed on Cole’s forehead. Knox was called up first. Poor sucker. As Knox took
the stage, Cole’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He slowly wiggled it out, angling it away from the
crowd to be clandestine. Tinkering with his phone was better than witnessing the humiliation on
Knox’s face.
He received a text from Pineapple. Cole cursed under his breath. He hadn’t checked on
Pineapple’s friend yet.
“Hey, man,” the text began. “Maggie had a rough day. Please call her for me. I owe you one.”
Pineapple was Cole’s favorite cousin. He had the the biggest heart of anyone Cole had ever met.
“Unable to call, but I’ll text her now,” Cole texted back, keeping his chin up as he typed
inconspicuously, pretending to focus on the auction.
Cole scrolled up to Maggie’s contact info in the text stream and saved her contact, then quickly
shot her off a text, “This is Pineapple’s cousin. Heard you had a bad day. Let me know if there’s
anything I can do to make your stay here more pleasant.” He hit the send button, but as he reviewed
the text, it read more like a greeting you’d receive at a hotel check-in than from a friend. He obviously
traveled way too much.
Knox thumped down into his chair next to Cole, startling him. That was fast, not more than four or
five minutes. Cole had missed Knox’s entire bidding and had a hankering to lean over and ask him
what had happened, but, judging by Knox’s tight jaw and determined eyes, now was not a good time
for that conversation.
Riker Dylan, their quarterback, was up next. He’d sell for a pretty penny. Women couldn’t resist a
quarterback. They joked with Riker how he was Captain America with his sandy hair and blue eyes,
and he’d joke right back calling Kent Superman and Cole Maui because he was half Polynesian,
although he didn’t look very Polynesian with his fair skin and light brown eyes. Cole resembled his
father, but with his tough, maternal grandfather’s Polynesian build.
His phone vibrated again.
Maggie responded, “Thanks. Crazy busy. I’m at the most ridiculous event, uncomfortably dressed
like a puffy princess, but it’s for a good cause. Thanks for the offer but I’m good. Just pray you’re
never asked to be auctioned off like these poor guys from the Texas Titans. Who do you play for? The
university?”
Cole jolted to attention. Pineapple’s friend was here? Why? He scanned the room. Pineapple had
told him she was in town for work. And if she was working, why would she be in a formal gown?
Did she have a connection to the team? His mind reeled through miscellaneous questions as the crowd
erupted into applause. He directed his attention back to the stage.
Cole let out a low whistle and leaned over to Knox. “Did Riker really just go for what I think he
did?”
Knox nodded, a faint smile playing at his lips. That was about all Cole would get out of Knox.
Riker sat back down with the countenance of a lion. Cole had to admire Riker’s unabashed
confidence.
As Kent stood, Cole gave him bones. “Give ‘em a show, Superman.”
“Laugh it up, but you’re next, Maui.”
Cole’s eyes flew to Jackie. She nodded to him with a wave of her bidding paddle. At least he had
one woman who would bid on him. He didn’t want to go for less than Riker, but he might have to. He
hadn’t played to the crowd during the mingle or during the bidding. He had become too intrigued with
the idea that Pineapple’s friend might be in the room.
He sent Maggie another text, “Football’s just something I do for fun. What do you do?” His eyes
searched for someone looking down at their phone. He let out a humorous humph when he realized
that half the guests were tinkering with their phones.
She responded, “I’m a firefighter, but this weekend I’m playing the part of a caterer.”
The wires in his brain finally sparked and melded together, allowing his lobes to connect. Maggie
was the deli girl. She was in town helping Silver. This was too perfect. Cole’s eyes searched the
perimeter of the room until he located her in the front corner. He hadn’t seen her earlier. She must
have come in recently.
Once he locked onto her, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her in her bright blue dress. The
color of her dress caused her crystal eyes to pop against her black hair as it caressed her creamy
white shoulders. With Maia’s princess voice in the background, he stared in a trance at Maggie, AKA
Snow White. He found himself in his own real-life fairytale with an intense physical need to press his
lips to her pouty red ones.
Maggie’s eyes swept the room before settling on the stage. Cole had a sudden urge to leave his
table, strut over to Maggie and give her a kiss she’d never forget. Although, she may not be good with
that. Her eyes darted his way for only a second or two. He waited for her to look again then tipped
his imaginary hat to her with a wink.
Cole shot a quick text off to Silver as a chorus of ahs and gasps rippled through the room. He
disregarded what he first thought he heard, but then Maia verified it. Engaged? Cole did a double take
of his stone-faced friend. Kent’s announcement, or his date’s, was downright shocking, not to mention
disturbing. Cole would get down to the bottom of this, but his first obligation was to the bidding
block.
He adjusted his tie and took one last sip of water before standing. He prayed Silver received his
text and would work her magic. With a little faith and fairytale magic, perhaps this evening could be
magical for him after all.
 7

THIRTY M IN UTES EA RL IER

M aggie raised the hem of her dress as she skipped up the conference center steps, slick
from the fresh evening rain. The muggy air swirled with the scent of wet clay. As she
wound her way through the long halls of the conference center, she told herself to
embrace the notion of being a princess in Silver’s beautiful ball gown, instead of giving in to the
harrowing feeling of being an imposter. The dress resembled something Cinderella would wear to a
ball with a v neck top, a tight beaded bodice, and an iridescent puffy skirt that rippled to the floor.
She stopped at the servers’ entrance to the grand ballroom and shook her hands out to stave away
her nerves. If she ever wanted to take over Silver’s business, she had to get comfy catering to the
highest classes of society and being in exclusive and unique situations real quick, or at least fake it.
“Fake it till you make it,” Maggie said with determination as she swung open the door and
stepped into the lion’s den with an air of aristocracy to match her dress. She found herself at the front
of the room. She made the quick decision to stay where she stood next to a table in the first row
closest to the stage, but farthest from the table where the bachelors sat.
Her eyes bulged momentarily as she took in the grand ballroom with its gold embellished walls
and mahogany coffered ceiling. Maggie gave a delicate smile and tipped her head to the women
sitting at the table next to her.
If it weren’t for the toxic redolence invading her senses, she would’ve been able to pay attention
to the happenings on stage. She instinctively covered her nose, preventing the stench of the
disgustingly sweet mixture of lavish perfumes to burn through her nasal passages. This proved it; she
was in high society. Realizing she couldn’t keep her hand over her nose all evening, she widened her
smile to breathe cautiously through her slightly open mouth.
Maggie discreetly scanned the room for Silver but caught sight of Cole instead. Her insides
tumbled. He sat at the front table with the other players up for bid. Her intense, contradictory
emotions of anger, embarrassment, and insane attraction threatened to send her into a tizzy. She spun
around in a quick circle, searching for a post, an imitation tree, anything to hide behind. Nothing. The
first bachelor finished his auction and took his seat. She had to suppress a giggle; that guy did not
want to be up there.
Her phone buzzed in her purse. Being as clandestine as possible, she removed it and opened her
messages. Pineapple’s cousin texted to check on her. That was kind of him, but she really didn’t have
the time or inclination to meet with him. She responded quickly, hoping to get off her phone before
someone noticed.
The next player up for bid was announced as Riker. These guys had cool names.
Maggie’s phone buzzed again. She responded quickly. With all of the energy and glamour, this
was a more exciting evening than she had expected it to be and didn’t want to jeopardize her job
opportunity because of her phone.
She raised her eyes to the stage when they announced what Riker went for. Holy Cow! Forget who
could, who would pay over two hundred grand for a date? For one stinking date with these self-
centered…she couldn’t speak for all of them, only jerk-face. She was dying to know if he played the
crowd as well as Riker.
Maggie’s curiosity got the better of her. She risked a quick glance at him. Not only did he notice
her, she caught him staring in her direction. Correction: He stared directly at her. Her body heated up
by a good ten degrees at his sweltering gaze. Good thing she had applied her antiperspirant before
climbing into the dress, or her nervous sweating would be on display for everyone in the room. She
finished her text then placed her phone back into her bag with a determination not to check it again
until the event concluded.
She refocused her attention between the stage and the tables where it was now down to two
women battling for a romantic date with a guy named Walker Kent. Oh my, Walker had some great
teeth, but they had to be fake. Perhaps they’d been knocked out during a football game? Maggie never
got a good look at jerk-face’s teeth and she had a nagging desire to know if they sparkled like
Walker’s. She snuck another quick glance only to find him still making eyes at her, and dang those
were gorgeous eyes.
Cole winked as he tipped an invisible hat to her. He could have meant a baseball cap for all she
knew, but she envisioned him as her dream man in his cowboy boots and authentic cowboy hat. Her
heart thumped in her chest at her whimsical daydream. She nearly smiled back. Luckily, she caught
herself with an internal reminder that this wasn’t real. He wasn’t one of those kind, down-to-earth
cowboys. He was a rude, mega-wealthy football star that treated commoners like crap.
The woman who’d won Walker strolled up on stage to claim her prize. To everyone’s shock—
Scarlett Powers, the famous actress who just bought him, took the microphone and announced they
were engaged.
Engaged? Maggie’s hand flew to her mouth in astonishment. The actress grabbed the distressed
football player and kissed him. Why didn’t he look happy about that announcement? Silver needed to
hear this.
“Where is she?” Maggie questioned aloud with impatience.
“Looking for me?” Silver said, stepping up from behind Maggie. “You know that rule…of every
event?”
Maggie ventured, “No matter how well you prepare, something will always go wrong?”
“Yep. I’m still missing a bachelor. And let me tell you, when I find Wilder, he’s toast.”
“What can I do to help you?” Maggie questioned.
“Oh.” Silver blinked her thick eyelashes as if remembering something. “That’s why I came to find
you. I need you to bid on him.” She lifted her chin to Cole as he stepped onto the stage.
Maggie’s thumb started to thump against her thigh nervously. “Him?” she squeaked.
“Yes. Go as high as you need to. This is important.” Silver thrust a paddle into Maggie’s arms.
“Here. Now I need to find and kill Wilder.” She slipped out of the room without another word.
Maggie had never bid on anything in her life, let alone a live person; an annoyingly handsome and
rude one to boot. She straightened her spine and prepared herself mentally as he walked onto the
stage in a slow, deliberate stride.
The MC flashed a toothy smile and held her hands out to this guy like he was a sports car on a
game show where contestants had a chance to win him. Maggie seethed. Did these ladies also know
he would steal their sandwiches if they were starving, then make eyes at them—only to shrug them off
when his friends showed up?
She glanced at the tables. The guests looked starved, either because they hadn’t eaten their food to
keep their delicate figures, or because they were thinking he was their dessert. He had smelled good
enough to eat—like freshly torched crème brûlée next to a steaming cup of hot chocolate.
The MC waved her hands for the crowd to stop clapping. “Tell me, Cole, what do you have
planned for your date with one of these lucky ladies?”
Cole took the mic in one hand and motioned with his other as if he wanted the bidders to envision
what to expect on their date with him. “A horseback ride to a private lake.”
Maggie went faint for a second. He rides? The bidding paddle burned in her hand. She had a
sudden urge to start the bid and take him up on his offer to go horseback riding.
Cole continued, “There, we’ll have a picnic lunch and if it’s a hot one and she wants to cool
off…,” he looked over at Maggie with a seductive smile, “…we’ll relax together in the refreshing
water.”
Maggie held her breath as several eyes in the room settled on her. She tried to control her rapid
heart rate and stop her chest from rising and falling so dramatically. She had to be professional. How
she handled this moment could propel, or end, her event planning career right here and now. She
wished she were clouded in a mask of sugar, instead of blushing a shade of red to match the stage
curtains. She blew out her breath, mustered up a polite smile, and tipped her paddle at Cole as she
cursed him under her breath for reeling her in.
The whole we’ll relax in the water as if she were just dying to see him with his shirt off made her
livid. Even though he most likely had a cut abdomen that most women would coo over, he needed to
get over himself. Almost every firefighter she knew was ripped and they never went around flaunting
it like that. Her firefighter buddies might pose for a benefit calendar with their shirts off, but they
wouldn’t have to beg women to bid on them.
She hated to say it, but Cole’s plan was working, and not only on the other women in the room. It
was working on her.
“Folks, it looks like we have our first bidder!” the MC announced in her sweet, playful voice that
Maggie wished would just hurry on with it. “Shall we start our first bid at fifty thousand?”
With a nod, Maggie held her paddle high in the air. She held back as three or four other women
held up their paddles as the bid climbed. Maggie would wait until a few girls backed out, then she’d
chime back in. As the bid rose to one hundred seventy-five thousand, she took a steadying breath and
prayed that Silver really meant for her to go that high.
She sent a quick text off to Silver to verify that she wanted her to go higher, and if she expected
Maggie to go on the date. She bit at her lip. The bid raised to two hundred thousand where it looked
like it might stop.
Maggie couldn’t wait for a response. She raised her paddle at two hundred twenty-five thousand.
Man, what her family could do with all that money. Some people worked their entire lives to pay off
a house that cost that much. She had to remind herself that this was for charity.
It looked like it was now between Maggie and one other woman that sat precariously close to
Cole’s table. Maggie had to wonder if the woman’s seating arrangement had been prearranged.
“Two hundred thousand even. Going once. Going twice,” the MC announced.
The MC hadn’t acknowledged Maggie’s bid.
Cole held up a hand and motioned to Maggie. “I believe Margarita still has her eyes on me.”
The MC adjusted her stance. “Excuse me. Two hundred and twenty-five.” She angled her body to
Cole and raised a questioning eyebrow. “You’re on a first name basis with Margarita?”
Maggie cringed at how the MC pronounced her name.
“Yes,” he said with a broad smile. “I had an opportunity before the bidding to become acquainted
with Margarita and Jackie.” He motioned to the other woman who was bidding against Maggie.
“I see.” The MC released a nervous laugh. “During the mingle,” she affirmed more to herself than
to the audience. “Just checking that you’re not pulling another Walker on us. We wouldn’t want to
think that the most determined bachelor on the team has suddenly altered his play.” She raised an
eyebrow. “Or do we women?”
That got the ladies in the audience cheering.
Cole acknowledged their exuberance with a glowing smile and wink. “I’d say my time to settle
down with a nice girl who catches me when I fall is not that far off in the future.”
A lump formed in Maggie’s throat, restricting her oxygen intake.
The MC rose up onto the balls of her feet. “Did you hear that ladies?”
Oh, yeah, Maggie heard it.
The MC continued, “This may be one of the last opportunities to go on a date with this stud. And
maybe you’ll be lucky enough to be the lady who will claim his heart and catch him when he falls. Do
I hear two hundred fifty thousand?”
A paddle went up in the back of the room.
Suddenly, two small but strong arms wrapped around Maggie, constricting her arm movement.
“I love you,” Gracie whispered.
Maggie laughed out her relief. “I love you too, Gracie, but—”
“Do I hear two hundred seventy-five?”
Maggie panicked. “Gracie, sweetie, can you please let go so I can raise my arm?”
Gracie looked up at her with a sad smile. “If you want me to. You look so pretty in Mommy’s
dress.”
“I do want to hug you, it’s just—”
“Going once,” the MC announced.
“Oh good.” Gracie hugged her even tighter.
“Going twice. Sold! Congratulations, Jackie!”
Maggie’s eyes fell to the ground. “Hey, Gracie?”
“Yeah?” Gracie responded with excitement.
“Can we go out in the hall to hug? I think I might be sick and I’d rather not mess up this pretty
carpet like I’ve messed everything else up tonight.”
“Don’t worry.” Gracie peered up at her with those big beautiful blue eyes. “I’ll help you clean up
your mess.”
Even though Gracie had impeded Maggie’s bidding and Silver would be upset, Maggie’s heart
melted at Gracie’s tender heart and sweet smile. “I wish I could just bottle you up and take you home
with me.”
Maggie didn’t care to watch as Jackie claimed Cole on the stage. She shouldn’t be disappointed,
but for some reason she was. She couldn’t put her finger on if her nausea resulted from losing the
opportunity to go on a horseback ride with Cole, or because the entire evening had been a flop.
Gracie grabbed onto Maggie’s hand as they went into the hall. “Or you could stay?” she pouted.
“I don’t think that’s an option for me anymore.” Silver would never extend an offer to her after
she’d botched everything up tonight. “Who brought you here?”
“Ace. He’s kissing Mommy right now in the kitchen.”
 “Where’s the kitchen?”
Gracie pointed to an entrance about five feet down the hall. Maggie and Gracie entered through
the kitchen doorway to find a muscular Hispanic man racing through the chrome kitchen, opening,
one-by-one, every low cabinet.
“Ace?” Maggie ventured.
“Oh, Gracie,” he breathed out, pulling Gracie into a hug, “I thought you were playing hide and
seek with me.” He offered his hand to Maggie. “Thanks for finding her. You must be Maggie.”
Maggie curtseyed. “Somehow bowing seems more appropriate in this dress. And I think Gracie’s
the one who found me.”
He laughed. “My family told me I’d like you.”
“That’s where I’m headed, to the Dallas Dating event to check on your sister.”
He nodded as he blinked his intense, yet soft, black eyes.
Maggie gave Gracie a peck on her forehead then hurried back to her hotel to change. She threw
her purse on the bed as soon as she entered her room and struggled to unzip the back of her dress. She
resembled a crazed flamingo, hopping around on one leg to get the puffy dress over her head. After a
few minutes of wrestling with the dress and throwing on a relaxed pair of jeans and a t-shirt, she
sprinted for the door.
On her way out, she received a text from Silver. “No need to go back to the venue. I sent a
cleaning crew over and Ariana left some food for you at your front desk. BTW, that cobalt dress looks
amazing on you. Keep it. Let’s chat tomorrow.”
Maggie sank into the reclining chair that faced the window with a view of the parking lot. She
was leaving Texas tomorrow with a puffy dress as a consolation prize. Silver had made it clear that
she wasn’t wanted or needed any longer. Maggie allowed her self-pity to well in her gut.
A knock on her door jostled her from her disparaging thoughts. She opened it to an attentive, bug-
eyed bellhop with a brown paper sack. “I was asked to deliver this to your room when you arrived,”
his teenage voice cracked.
“Thank you,” Maggie tried to sound chipper and appreciate. The whole, We are no better than
our worst thoughts. Be positive and a positive outcome will follow, was getting more and more
difficult to articulate.
She handed the teenage boy a five-dollar bill and closed the door behind him before emptying the
contents of the bag onto her miniscule nightstand. The leftover Mexican food had been tightly
wrapped in shiny aluminum foil, but still leaked the scent of cinnamon and cilantro. She reached
down to the bottom of the bag to find a petite white paper box. She knew exactly what it was, but held
it next to her ear and shook it anyways; the way every child did with those little plastic eggs during an
Easter egg hunt.
Maggie slowly opened the box to find a single macaron. She hadn’t won the sports car, but here
was her second consolation prize of the evening. And that’s all she wrote, folks. It had been the story
of her life since her teens; becoming good friends with guys was easy, it was how to establish a more
intimate relationship that eluded her.
She sat in the comfy microfiber recliner and nibbled at her zesty lemon crème macaron and
reminisced at how she had been moments away from spending hundreds of thousands of dollars of
someone else’s money to possibly take a horseback ride with a gorgeous multi-millionaire, lawyer,
pro-football player. But in the end, it was all a fantasy because she had met the real Cole in the
market and he was no prince. Fairytales had a place in the hearts of children and were fun to imagine,
but it was time for her to return to reality.
 Maggie took a slow bite of her macaron, savoring the last morsel of her culinary marathon. She
closed her eyes, allowing its creamy tart flavor to consume her senses as she drifted off with a prayer
that her night demons had not followed her to the Lone Star state.

COLE ROLLED HIS EYES , opened his legs, and leaned back in his leather massage chair to enjoy the
starry night from his large bow window. His bedroom, with its neutral colors of tan, cream, and
hunter green, normally created the perfect ambiance for his mind to calm before he slept, but it
wouldn’t happen tonight. Good thing Susan couldn’t see him, not just because he sat there at home in
nothing more than his boxers; she wouldn’t appreciate his complete apathy toward the situation with
Jackie.
“Let me get this straight.” Cole leaned forward in his recliner and spoke into his phone set on the
armrest on speaker mode. “Not only is Jackie refusing to come tomorrow, she’s also demanding to
spend a few days here at the ranch during the year end celebration?”
“Correct,” Susan, his PR rep. responded. “But her name is Josie, short for Joselyn. She wasn’t
super happy about you calling her Jackie.”
He had refused to give Josie his number, or any other form of contact info when she’d requested it
at the end of the auction. He’d told her every communication would go through his PR firm. The plan
was to have this all over with tomorrow, but it looked like he was stuck. Josie had donated a pretty
penny for him and now she was doing everything in her power to call the shots.
“Why does she want to wait?”
“Ah.” Susan paused. “She didn’t make that clear, but if I were to guess, I’d say it has everything to
do with that reality TV show.”
Cole threw the stress ball he was working in his hands across the room. It bounced off the
opposite wall and returned to him. “What options do we have here, Susan? Because this show is not
about some bossy blonde. It’s about raising awareness for trisomy-21 and getting this program in
every state.” He threw the ball again. “If she tries to steal the show, you know how I’ll respond. And
there is no way she is spending a night here.”
“We have some time to come up with a plan for that. There is a more pressing matter that we need
to address.”
Cole groaned.
“Can we discuss your comment? I quote, ‘I’d say my time to settle down with a nice girl who
catches me when I fall is not that far off in the future.’ Can you please explain that to me, Cole?”
“No,” he said.
“I thought we’d agreed that you weren’t ready for a serious relationship,” she scolded like an
overbearing older sister. “I’m simply reiterating what you told me you wanted. We’d discussed how
we would capitalize on your current relationship status, and, if anything changed, you and I would sit
down and discuss how you would make that public.”
“Okay. Let’s discuss it.”
“Are you in a relationship, Cole?”
“No.” Cole wasn’t in the mood for twenty questions tonight. He was already irritated Susan
hadn’t come up with a solution to keep Josie from manipulating the situation to her benefit.
“Do you plan to be in a relationship in the near future?”
 “Yes.”
“With whom?”
“Maggie.”
“Do you mean Margarita, the caterer slash firefighter?” she questioned is a derogatory manner.
He had only called her Margarita because Pineapple had advised him not to, but Cole wanted her
attention and calling her Margarita and having her bid on him sure got her attention. “What’s wrong
with Maggie?” Cole squeezed his stress ball as his heat rose. “Everyone loves firefighters. How can
you not put a good spin on that?”
“Exactly. She’s a powerful, yet pouty hero. When you break her heart in two weeks, how’s that
going to look? I know we’ve been going for the noncommittal thing here with you, but that’s only to
make girls want you more, sell more seats to watch you play, make your jersey fly off the shelf, etc.
We’ve already got plenty of bad boys on the team who play that card really well. I don’t want to see
this girl get hurt and I really don’t want to see you get raked over the coals by the press. It’s one thing
to avoid dating to steer clear of the crazy, selfish plastics like Josie. It’s another to hurt the girl next
door. Women will sympathize with Maggie; they’ll want to be her.”
Cole placed his head back against the massage headrest of his recliner and rubbed his temples.
“You still there?” Susan questioned.
“Yeah.” He could have argued with her after that interesting monologue, but why? “All that aside,
I need you to come up with a game plan in the event that I do date Maggie.”
Susan released a frustrated groan. “Didn’t you just hear me?”
“Yes.” But no one was going to tell him who he could or couldn’t date, especially someone on his
payroll. “Here’s me giving you a heads up. The powerful pouty girl will have a presence in my life.
I’ll expect you’ll want to figure out how to make that positive with the paparazzi.”
Susan huffed out a sigh. “Please keep me informed.”
“Always.”
He had his eyes set on Maggie and wouldn’t allow Susan to divert his gaze, even if her intentions
were as altruistic as she claimed. He ended the call with a slow yawn, then stretched out his spine,
followed by his legs and arms. He’d lost sleep the night before, thinking about the girl from the deli.
Tonight, he’d lose even more sleep with new images of her with sugar puffing out of her mouth, her
toned arms clutching him and raising him up, and her standing in the corner—stunning everyone,
especially him, in that blue dress.
He grabbed his phone and started typing. “Meet me tomorrow?” Before sending the text, he
glanced at the vintage clock on the wall with its exposed cogs and gears. 12:02. He closed out of his
message app. It was too late to text. He’d check in with her first thing in the morning.
 8

T he sunrise came like a lightning bolt and struck Cole, but not in an almost dead sense;
in an energized by the increased electricity pulsing through his veins sense. He
jumped out of bed ready to hit the gym hard, but he needed to catch Maggie before she
set out for the day.
At eight in the morning, Cole felt more comfortable contacting her than at midnight. He sent a
quick text, “Can you get together today? I could show you a few sights before you head home?”
Reality check, Maggie would leave and may never come back. He needed to do some
investigating to find out what had brought her here to work for Silver and how he could find a way to
get her back.
His phone buzzed with a return text from Maggie. “On my way to the airport. Decided to catch an
earlier flight, but thanks. What’s your name? I’ll save it in my phone in case we connect in the future.
Let me know if you’re ever in Park City.”
Cole’s energy drained instantly with the realization that Maggie wouldn’t be around to hook up
with later in the day.
“My friends call me Maui,” he texted back. She’d eventually find out he was the man she knew as
jerk-face, but he’d rather tell her in person. “Drop me a line sometime.”
“I’ll let you know if I ever make it back to Dallas.” She finished with a smile emoji.
He set down his phone on his king-sized bed and threw on a pair of gym shorts for his workout.
Pushing his body increased his mental clarity, and he needed that clarity now more than ever as his
mind clouded with incessant thoughts of Maggie—her soft voice, clear eyes, rounded lips…he’d run
hard then finish with weights.

MAGGIE DROVE into Pineapple’s parking lot with the sentiment of hope and joy burning in her chest.
Even though she’d failed at the whole catering thing, something had happened to her between the time
she’d left Park City and returned. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but whatever it was, her outlook on
life had improved.
Her good mood could have something to do with the quality and quantity of sleep she got last
night. When she returned home yesterday, she hiked one of her favorite trails, took a long bath, and
went to sleep before the sun set. Luckily, she didn’t have a nightmare. Come to think of it, she didn’t
suffer from any nightmares during her stay in Dallas.
 “Excuse me?” A woman and her young daughter in matching bright white dresses with large red
and yellow flowers came up to her. “Are you Maggie?”
“Yes. Can I help you?”
The girl’s mother held up a bouquet of fragrant white orchids as her eyes moistened. “We stopped
by the fire station. When we told them who we were, they told us that we might be able to find you
here.”
“These are beautiful.” Maggie took the flowers, held them to her nose and breathed in their sweet
floral aroma. “Thank you, but I’m at a loss—”
“You pulled me out of the water,” the young girl said.
Maggie’s heart raced as she blinked her eyes then studied the mother. It was the woman from the
reservoir, but this was an entirely different version of the woman who had lost her daughter to
drowning. This woman was whole.
Maggie’s mouth dropped open and it took her a minute to comprehend what they were saying
“How?”
The girl’s mother took Maggie’s hand in hers. “It took forty minutes longer to resuscitate her at the
hospital. The doctors explained it to me as her body sustaining what’s called a diving reflex in the
cold water which most likely saved her. It’s where the body goes into a type of hypothermia to save
the brain and heart.” She looked down at her daughter lovingly. “Then she was on life support for four
days before she woke up and said her first words. She’s been asking to meet her hero ever since.”
“Thank you,” the young girl said, wrapping her arms around Maggie’s waist.
Overcome with emotion, Maggie leaned her head into the girl’s.
“We’ll let you go to your party. But thank you for your service and prayers.”
“Prayers?” Maggie questioned as the little girl released her grip of her stepped back.
The mother nodded. “I saw you kneel down in prayer as we were pulling away in the ambulance.”
“You’re welcome,” Maggie said with a smile. “But I think we all know who saved you that day.”
She winked at the girl.
“Yes, we do,” the girl responded as she turned and skipped away.
Maggie stood for a minute alone in the parking lot, attempting to comprehend how the little girl
that she mourned and cursed herself for not saving, now laughed and cried like every other little girl
in the world. A modern-day miracle had occurred.
It baffled Maggie why some people were the recipients of these miracles, while others were not.
It didn’t seem fair. But the seeming inequality that she didn’t understand didn’t mean that miracles
weren’t real.
She walked straight through the restaurant to the kitchen in search of Pineapple, passing a few
couples with small children winding around their legs. The parents looked to be about the same age
as Pineapple, somewhere in their lower to upper thirties.
Maggie smiled as she walked by Pineapple’s family; she couldn’t wait to see him. She hadn’t
realized until she entered the restaurant how much she’d missed him and couldn’t wait to give him a
big hug.
When she stepped into the kitchen, a blast of yeast and sugar caused her mouth to water. Pineapple
placed a pan of rolls, fresh from the oven, on the counter to cool.
“Hey, Margarita!” He took off his oven mitts and enveloped her in his big bear arms. “What’s
up?”
“That’s funny, because I was just about to ask you, what’s cookin’, good lookin’,” she said.
Their laughs were interrupted by the clicking of dress sandals strolling into the kitchen. They
turned to the footsteps of a healthy sized Polynesian woman who was maybe ten years older than
Maggie, about Pineapple’s age. Her eyes widened then fell to the floor before she turned to walk back
out.
“Kahoa?” Pineapple said with surprise, but she marched out without a word.
“Who’s that?” Maggie questioned.
“Kahoa,” he said with a sadness to his voice. “We dated about ten years ago, then she left for the
islands. I haven’t seen her since.”
“Well.” Maggie raised an eyebrow. “I think she still has feelings for you.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I think she got married.”
“I didn’t notice a ring.” Maggie said matter-of-factly. “Do you want to know if she’s here to get
back together?”
He gave her an eager nod.
Maggie’s entire face lit into a smile. “You got it.” She grabbed a hot roll from off the pan and
shoved it in her mouth. “This is heaven in the form of a ball,” she moaned out. “And I haven’t been
this excited about anything since…” She rubbed her palms together. “Since, I don’t know when.”
“Hey, did you ever get together with my cousin?”
“No,” she shook her head, avoiding Pineapple’s inquisitive gaze. “Maui, right? He texted me
Friday night, but I was overwhelmed and then all I could think about was getting home yesterday, but
we’ve exchanged a few texts.”
“Maui?” Pineapple laughed out with a slap to his knee. “Is that what he’s going by now?”
That was a strange question, considering that he went by Pineapple. Maggie had never even
thought to ask Pineapple what his real name was, so why would it be odd that his cousin call himself
Maui? “Why wouldn’t he go by Maui?”
“You didn’t see him?” Pineapple tilted his head to the side and examined her as if he were
deciding whether or not to believe her. “I thought you were at the auction?”
“Huh?” Maggie wrinkled her brow, giving him a confused look. “Why would I see him at the
auction?”
“Hey Pineapple!” an elderly man called into the kitchen. “You coming with the rolls? We’re ready
to eat.”
“On my way!” He turned to Maggie. “Do you want to meet Maui’s parents. They should be here
soon.”
“His parents?” she whispered to herself as she followed Pineapple into the now full dining area.
Maggie knew she had no reason to feel nervous; she wasn’t dating Maui. She had never even met
him. She couldn’t explain why her nerves were tangled up like earphone cords after a long road trip.
Pineapple set the pan of rolls down on a long serving table alongside the other food and instructed
everyone to get started with brunch. He grabbed Maggie’s hand and lead her through the crowd as he
introduced her to his family as a close friend, firefighter, and excellent chef. She found comfort in
everyone’s laid back, accepting nature. About three quarters of the group were full Polynesian; the
other quarter were split between half-Polynesian and full Caucasian. By the end of the introductions,
she found herself completely at ease. Maui’s parents had pulled over for a bit because Maui’s dad
had felt sick, but they were back on the road and told Pineapple to get started without them.
There was one person who seemed to slip away when Pineapple and Maggie came near her:
Kahoa. Maggie suspected that Kahoa had come to the brunch to rekindle her relationship with
Pineapple and hadn’t been expecting to find Maggie on his arm.
“Hey, Pineapple?” Maggie ventured.
 “You want to eat now?” he questioned innocently.
“Almost.” Maggie had always been known to be direct. “Do you want to date Kahoa?”
He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and shrugged. “She’s avoiding me.” He shook his head as
his eyes fell to the ground. “I don’t want to be turned down.”
“What would you say if I made it really easy for you?” she questioned with a wink.
“I don’t know, Maggie.” He rubbed his chin. “I don’t think she’s interested.”
“Trust me.” She rolled up on the balls of her feet and kissed his cheek.
Maggie cast a sideways glance at Kahoa as she sat at Maggie’s favorite table with the mountain
view. Kahoa returned Maggie’s attention with narrowed eyes. That solidified it in Maggie’s mind;
Kahoa had eyes for Pineapple.
They walked over to Kahoa’s table and Pineapple cleared his throat. “Kahoa, it’s good to see
you. This is my friend, Maggie.”
She took Maggie’s hand and gave it a firm shake, which affirmed to Maggie that Kahoa was up for
a challenge.
Maggie smiled. “I’ll arm wrestle you for him.”
“What?” Kahoa blinked her large almond eyes as she twisted a tuft of her thick black hair in her
fingers. Her hair was a similar shade of ebony as Maggie’s but full of silky curls.
Maggie continued as she sat across from Kahoa, “Pineapple and I are friends, best friends in fact,
so giving that up would be difficult, but I’m willing to arm wrestle you for him. Whoever wins gets to
go on a date with him and claim him as her own.” Maggie looked up at Pineapple. “You good with
that?”
Pineapple’s eyes widened as he nodded.
“Kahoa?” Maggie questioned. She took a gamble, but when Kahoa squared her shoulders, Maggie
knew Pineapple would be holding hands with someone else tonight.
Kahoa brought her arm up and dug her elbow into the table before giving Maggie a challenging
smile. Kahoa, as it turned out, wasn’t one for talking, but she was one for action. Maggie liked her
already.
Maggie sized up Kahoa; she looked tough, but Maggie was almost certain she could take her if she
tried. Pineapple’s family assembled around them and began placing their bets. One of Pineapple’s
cousins knelt down next to their table and counted down from Three, Two, One.
At One, Maggie pressed into her arm, utilizing the core muscles in her abdomen which traveled
through her shoulder and down to her hand. Moisture beaded on her upper lip as she held Kahoa’s
hand erect. Both of their arms began to shake as Maggie felt her arm begin to falter.
Kahoa proved a worthy opponent. Maggie pulled deeper from her core, bending Kahoa’s hand
back and pressing her arm down slightly. Kahoa grunted out her displeasure before Maggie felt pain
in her strained wrist before her arm responded by letting off the pressure. Kahoa took the opportunity
to slam Maggie’s hand back and into the table.
Maggie shook her head and held out her hand to shake Kahoa’s across the table. “Well done.
You’ve caught yourself a fine man.” She winked at Pineapple as she stood and motioned for him to
take her seat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Maggie bowed slightly. “I’m starving. I’ll let you two catch
up.”
Maggie made her way to the food table and licked her lips as she loaded up her plate. Eating food
that she didn’t cook was a fabulous thing that she needed to do more often.
She jumped at a terrifying shrill from a Polynesian woman bursting through the front door. Maggie
whipped her head around as a man stumbled in behind the woman, clutching at his chest. He stumbled
then fell to the floor. The man was Caucasian, but currently resembled a blueberry. Maggie had seen
that color before, and it was not good. She threw her plate down on the serving table and pushed
through the crowd assembled around the man. The woman who had entered with him fainted into the
arms of another woman as someone yelled out that he was dead.
“Pineapple, call 911!” Maggie yelled over the commotion. “Blue’s guys are on today.”
She went down onto her knees and positioned the man onto his back to take his pulse and check
his breathing. Nothing. She found the correct spot in the center of his chest and began chest
compressions to the song “Staying Alive.” She sang along in her head to the fast lyrics as she pushed
his chest into the floor.
“I’ll do the breaths,” Pineapple insisted.
According to new CPR standards, breathing is not required, but it couldn’t hurt.
“What about your mask?” Maggie asked.
Pineapple tilted the man’s head back and gave him two breaths. “He’s my uncle. I don’t need a
mask.”
Maggie returned to her task of performing the chest compressions until Blue’s crew burst through
the door. As she sat back onto her knees to hand the chest compressions over to Dax, Blue found a
pulse.
“He’s back,” Blue sighed out. “Excellent, Maggie.”
Maggie gave a quick, sincere prayer of gratitude before Pineapple reached his hand down and
assisted her back onto her feet.
“You saved my uncle,” Pineapple said with emotion, pulling Maggie into his chest in a firm
embrace as Blue and his crew they loaded his uncle onto the gurney and started his IV before rolling
him out to the ambulance.
The crowd followed the paramedics into the parking lot. Dax and a firefighter Maggie couldn’t
name jumped into the back of the ambulance and Stone climbed into the driver’s seat. With lights and
sirens blaring, they took off down the road toward the hospital. Blue and Nikola stayed behind with
the engine.
Maggie squinted the sun out of her eyes as the unmelodic squawk of a nearby blue jay reminded
her that parents around the world were having picnics with their children right now to celebrate
Mother’s Day.
Maggie brought her hand up to her forehead to block out the bright morning rays. “Are your
cousins here?”
Pineapple looked from side to side at all the people gathered around him. “Yeah, you met them,
Maggie.”
“No, I mean are your uncle’s children here? They’ll want to know he’s headed to the hospital.”
“It looks like Maui just got here,” Pineapple responded.
“Maui?” Maggie questioned, following Pineapple’s eyes to the fire engine where a muscular man
had his back to them as he embraced Blue.
Maggie’s heart raced. Turns out she’d be able to meet Maui after all. “Maui knows Blue?”
“Sure.” Pineapple shrugged. “You didn’t know?” He motioned to the two men. “Blue and Cole
played football together in college.”
Maggie glanced back at Blue and Maui. “Cole? What does Cole have to do with Maui?”
“Ahhh…” Pineapple drew out in a pained voice. “I’m guessing you don’t know.”
Blue and his friend turned to face Maggie and Pineapple.
“Maggie!” Cole’s deep voice shot through the parking lot as he ran to her.
 Cole stepped in between Maggie and Pineapple. “You saved my dad?” he questioned with
excitement, lifting Maggie off the ground by her waist and twirling her around before setting her back
down onto her unstable feet.
Her mind couldn’t reconcile what it was seeing with what it knew. It refused to accept Cole, the
football star it had last seen being auctioned off for almost three hundred thousand dollars, here in
Park City. He belonged in sweltering Dallas, Texas, not here in the cool breeze, standing in front of
Pineapple’s restaurant and holding her face in his hands. Her body shivered with warm chills as he
gazed into her eyes.
Her mind clouded as he touched her face and looked into her eyes with longing. She reached up
and touched his smooth cheek. His milk chocolate eyes spoke silent words of affection to her heart
moments before his lips pressed into hers.
Her spirits lifted her off the ground and into the thin air where her head grew light and dizzy from
his tender kisses with the slight taste of mint and honey.
Good sense returned when her mind reminded her how she’d felt when he had dissed her in the
market and then in front of his friend. “Stop,” she said, pulling back. “You’re just kissing me because
I saved your dad.”
“No. And yes. When I realized yesterday I was falling for you, I had to tell you, so I got on the
first flight to Salt Lake. I hoped you’d be here celebrating Mother’s Day with Pineapple and the rest
of my family.”
“Your family?” Maggie seethed. “You lied to me this entire time, Maui? Does anyone even call
you Maui?”
“Yes. They do. I didn’t mean to lie to you.” He paused when she gave him a look of disbelief.
“Okay.” He held his palms up to her. “Maybe just a little, but only until I could explain in person.
Please go out with me,” he begged.
“No.” Her hands fell to her sides. “I don’t even like you.”
 9

“B ut you“Anddon’twhatevena meeting
know me,” Cole argued. “We only met a few days ago.”
that was.” She glared up at him. “You showed me your true colors.”
He felt a sudden pull to be at his father’s side. “I need to leave for the hospital. If we can’t part as
friends, then let’s at least not part ways as enemies.”
“I’ll give you a ride. I know the fastest route.” Maggie motioned for Pineapple to go with them as
she continued talking to Cole. “You really should already be at the hospital with your mom.”
Pineapple’s eyes grew wide. “Um. I need to lock up the restaurant.” He made it obvious he didn’t
want to be in the middle of their argument. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Cole’s guilt threated to consume him. He’d come to see Maggie, not his mom. And even though his
mother had encouraged him to stay back for a few minutes, he should be speeding to the hospital. “My
mom asked me to stay and thank you first. Half the family followed the ambulance like a procession to
the hospital, so she’ll have more support than she’ll want. Look,” he attempted with difficulty to
maintain eye contact with her as he jumped into the passenger seat of her jeep. “I’m sorry for taking
your sandwich and poking fun at your event. I’m sorry that my buddies ate all of your food.” He
reached for her hand resting on the steering wheel but withdrew, not wanting to experience the
rejection if she didn’t accept his touch. “I’m far from perfect, but I try to be a good man.” He folded
his hands in his lap and waited for a response.
She drove out of the parking lot. “I hear such differing opinions of you that it’s hard to reconcile
those contradictions, or even know who you really are.”
“Who thinks I’m a good guy?”
She tapped her nail on the wheel. “Pineapple, Silver’s in-laws, and you.”
“And who doesn’t?”
“Just me, I guess.” She gave a light laugh as if she found that amusing. “And I’m somewhat
biased.” She wiggled her nose in the most adorable way. “I place a lot of weight on my own
opinion.”
“And what would it take to change your opinion of me?”
“What’s the point, Cole?” She shook her head in defiance. “And why are you smiling?”
“I just like to hear you say my name instead of jerk-face. It’s an upgrade. I’d say we’re making
progress.”
“Yes, we are.” She laughed. “I’m good at the friend thing with guys, it’s the more complicated
stuff that doesn’t come so easy. But that doesn’t change the fact that my life is here. My job is here,
and my friends are here. There is nothing for me in Dallas.”
“Am I nothing, Maggie? You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything when we touched.” He leaned
in to her. “When we kissed.”
“I can forgive you, Cole, but let’s be realistic about this. I thought about moving to Dallas, but
after this weekend, I realized I’m not cut out to be an event coordinator. We both know that.”
“Now you’re lying. Don’t cut yourself short. The events were both a success.” He wanted to ask
her how she felt bidding on him, but that would be a conversation for another day.
“Only because you saved my event,” she countered.
“I saved your event after I ruined your event. If I hadn’t shown up there, everyone would be
raving about your French food right now. And they still will, if you give yourself a chance. Give me a
chance, Maggie.”
“Sorry,” she sighed out her apology as her long, thin fingers wrapped around the steering wheel.
When they slowed to a stop in front of the hospital, Cole reached his hand to the steering wheel
with a desire to run his fingers over hers, but he gave her arm a light squeeze instead and opened the
car door. “You have my number if you change your mind.” He jumped out of her sporty jeep with a
smile. “Thanks, Margarita.”
“You’re welcome, Maui.” She blinked her dark eyelashes with a nod. “I wish your father a
speedy recovery and you safe travels home.”
As he sped up the three flights of stairs to the Intensive Care Unit, he smiled at the progress he’d
made with Maggie during their three-minute drive. She no longer hated him, in fact, she had laughed
and told him she forgave him. He knew winning her heart wouldn’t be easy, but at least he now had a
pinch of hope; a hope that, with concerted effort, he’d be able to melt through the many layers of ice
to reach her vulnerable and kind heart.
Cole paced across the slick tile squares of the hospital and into the bright artificial light of the
ICU. He ignored the gruff greeting of the hospital staff. They weren’t eager to have another family
member in the ICU waiting room, but he ignored their brusque overtones and searched for his father’s
room.
He found his mother at the side of his father’s bed, staring off in the distance in a state of shock.
He placed his hand on her shoulder, reaching down to kiss her cheek.
“Love you, Mom.”
She woke from her trance with a shiver as she reached up and grasped his hand. “I’m so glad you
came to me.” She pulled his hand down and kissed it.
His mother held his hand into her chest for several minutes as they both stared at his father in
silence. His father’s monitoring machines hissed and sputtered like a mistimed game buzzer.
His mom broke the reverie. “You know,” she said in a hoarse voice, “the last thing he said to me
was how proud he was of you, even though you couldn’t make it out for Mother’s Day.” She patted his
hand then released it. “I wonder if he knows you’re here now.”
Cole shook his head. He wanted to believe that his father was proud of him, but why would his
father follow up saying he was proud of him with the disparaging comment that he hadn’t come home
for Mother’s Day?
His mother continued to explain to him how the doctors had placed his father in a type of induced
hypothermia to protect his brain and vital organs from damage. He would be cooled and sedated for
the next twenty-four hours or so while they ran tests and decided the best course of action. The big
question on everyone’s mind; why had his heart failed? He ate a healthy diet and exercised on top of
his duties on the ranch.
Cole moved to his father’s side and touched his frigid arm. Although his father’s body had only
been cooled by a few degrees, it felt like ice. His mother stood and grabbed another chair from the
corner for Cole to sit with her.
“Thanks, but I didn’t want you to get my chair, Mom.”
“Nonsense. You will always be my baby, even when you’re an old man.”
“What are you talkin’ about?” He shrugged. “I’ll never be old.”
His mother sighed out as she looked at Cole’s father. “Pineapple’s friend, Maggie, she was really
amazing today. I hope you’ll find someone like that, a strong woman who can save you, save my
grandbabies if there’s an emergency.”
“Sounds like you’ve already chosen for me, Mom,” he ventured, half joking.
She patted his arm and gave him a challenging smile. “Tell me, has a girl ever refused to go out
with you before today?”
Cole sucked in a breath of surprise. “How did you—”
“You asked her out in front of the entire family, at least the ones that hadn’t left for hospital from
Pineapple’s right away.”
Cole’s shoulders dropped. “Did they also tell you how Maggie said she doesn’t like me?”
“Think of it this way, son; less pressure. She’s already seen your selfish, prideful side. Now all
you have to do is show her your tender, loving side.”
That hurt. “Selfish, prideful side, Mom?”
“We all have a side of us that’s selfish and prideful. We don’t usually allow others to see that side
of us until we’ve been dating for a few months, but she’s already seen that very minute side of you, so
there’s nowhere to go but up.”
“And you approve of Maggie?” he questioned with a touch of disbelief.
“I’ve heard Pineapple talk about how wonderful she is. She brought you back from Dallas to be
with us, and she just brought your father back from the dead.” She motioned to Cole’s father on the
hospital bed, whistling his slow respirations as his chest rose and fell. “You better be careful,” his
mother teased, “or I may start loving her more than you.”
“What makes you think I came to see her and not you for Mother’s Day?”
She raised her eyebrows at him, daring him to continue with his lies. “Never underestimate a
mother’s intuition. I noticed how you looked at her when you arrived at Pineapple’s just before we
pulled out. That’s why I asked you to stay and thank her for saving your father. Did you tell her thank
you?”
Cole leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms, and relived their kiss in his mind. “Yep, I thanked
her.” They fell back into the semi-silence of the medical machines.
The next two days were a blur of CNAs, nurses, doctors, tests, and bad sleep. His father had
woken up on the second day and had been in and out of consciousness ever since. Cole had spent the
past two nights on a cot next to his father’s bed that was made for a medium-sized dog, not an NFL
football player. But he wasn’t complaining, his father had received superior care.
Cole rubbed the sleep from his eyes and strained to make out the words on his phone’s bright
screen. It was the middle of the day, but his mother liked the shades closed and the light off to create
an ambiance of rest for her husband.
His eyes refused to focus, so he gave up on reading the article about his father’s condition, rested
his phone in his lap, and closed his eyes. The doctors diagnosed his father with Brugada Syndrome, a
condition where the heart’s electrical system was prone to going offline. And if the heart’s electrical
system goes offline, the normal rhythm is interrupted, causing seizures, difficulty breathing, or sudden
death. The condition, caused by a gene mutation, is often left undiagnosed due to an extremely high
mortality rate that is simply explained as heart failure.
 Miraculously, his father’s heart had not been damaged during the episode, but, according to his
physicians, another episode could be expected. Before leaving the hospital, his father would go into
surgery to have an ICD, implantable cardioverter defibrillator, connected to his heart.
The light in the room switched on, causing Cole to blink his eyes open and squint. His head ached
from the lack of sleep and incessant beeps of the medical monitoring equipment.
“Cole?” his mother’s voice soothed. “I brought a friend of your father’s to see him.”
Cole stood and offered his hand to the gentleman dressed in a suit and starchy gray shirt. Cole
knew the type. He dealt with those who played wealthy all the time when the Texas Titan owner
scheduled the top paid players to greet the sponsor representatives.
“Sorry to hear about your father, Cole,” he said, as if Cole’s father had died.
“Thank you, sir. It’s unfortunate you’ve come while he’s resting. I’m sure he would’ve liked to
have said hello.”
His father sat up, fully awake. “Say hello to who?”
“Mr. Harrison,” the man said, stepping closer to the hospital bed. “You gave me my first break as
a news reporter in Evanston when I covered the mad cow disease scare twenty years back.”
“I remember,” his father said in his deep, hoarse voice. “Harry Harrison. How could I forget your
name? What are you doing now, Harry?”
“Funny you should ask, because I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?”
Cole clenched his fists. This guy had come to get information about Cole by way of his father’s
heart condition? This guy was low.
“I own the paper now and thought I’d come in person to see for myself how a man died, yet
survived a heart attack that may be hereditary? And how that medical condition may affect his son’s
NFL career.”
“Someone died?” said Cole’s father, fear shaking his voice as he sat up straighter and looked at
his wife with concern. “Who died, sweetheart?”
“You died.” She turned to the reporter. “And obviously this in not the place or time for questions.”
She took the reporter’s arm and spoke softly as she escorted him out of the room. “My husband is a
middle-aged rancher who eats beef for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He tends to strain his body with
the physical obligations of the ranch and overdid it one day which put him in here. Luckily, he’s doing
amazing, aside from his temporary short-term memory loss due to the prescription medication.” She
patted the reporter on the shoulder, basically pushing him out the door. “So glad to have helped you
with your questions.” She shut the door behind him and fell into her seat.
Cole looked at his mother with amusement. “And I thought I was the only liar in this family.”
“No one messes with my son and his career,” his mom huffed out.
With all the drugs in his system, Cole’s father resembled an innocent child lost in a grocery store.
“Who’s messing with our son?” his father asked protectively.
“Don’t worry, dear,” Cole’s mother responded with patience as she rubbed her neck. “You won’t
remember in another five minutes.”
“I won’t remember what?” he asked, sending Cole and his mother into a fit of laughter. “Cole, I’m
so glad you came for Mother’s Day. Thank you. I love you, son.”
His father had told him every fifteen minutes for the past three hours how much he loved him. It
should have annoyed Cole, but it touched him instead, because every time his father looked him in the
eyes and expressed his genuine affection for him, Cole’s love and appreciation for his father grew.
This proved it: Miracles were real, and he needed one more. He touched his phone. “Call Silver
Sanchez.”
 10

M aggie upped the treadmill to eight miles an hour. Lucky for her, the fire station was
equipped with everything she needed to sweat Cole’s face from her mind.
It had been a quiet day at work, but that meant she had time to think. And
considering the only thing she thought about these days was Cole, thinking was dangerous. Good thing
Blue wasn’t her fire captain because he’d seen the kiss and the shift change with him yesterday
morning had been brutal. The guys knew not to mess with her too much, but the mere knowing look in
their eyes brought a heat to her face that she wished she could suppress. The only way she knew how
to deal with this strange and unexpected longing for Cole was to run it off on the treadmill and hit the
weights hard.
Maggie’s phone rang through the speakers in her ears. She touched her phone to answer. “Yes?”
“Maggie. It’s Silver.”
“Silver. Sorry about not meeting with you before I left town. I needed to get back.”
“I prefer you to be frank with me, Maggie.”
Maggie appreciated how Silver called her on it. “I couldn’t face you after I’d messed up both
functions.” She pushed the stop button on the treadmill.
“What are you talking about? Everyone was paired off by the end of the evening at the dating
event and we brought in close to twenty thousand dollars for Muscular Dystrophy.”
“Twenty thousand dollars? How?”
“For one, turns out the football players who crashed the party that night thought Muscular
Dystrophy was a good cause and donated through our online portal the majority of what was brought
in. The woman who runs the Dallas Dating site asked me when we could do it again.”
Maggie coughed at her sudden dry mouth. She took a long sip of the cool water from metal bottle.
“I’m speechless.”
“It gets better. You also drove up the price on Cole’s bid, which meant more money for our
veterans.”
“But you asked me to win that bid, and I didn’t do that.”
“You’re right. You didn’t. But, in the end, you saved my client money, which brings me to my next
offer.”
“Offer?”
“We had a guest at the Dallas Dating function who raved about the food that night and how you ran
it. He wants you to not only cater a high-profile function at his ranch, but also plan the event down to
the floral centerpieces, and by floral centerpieces, I mean edible arrangements or something, this guy
has seasonal allergies so no flowers.”
 Maggie knew she shouldn’t even entertain the idea of doing this. She’d already decided not to
move to Dallas after her short weekend there, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “When is the
function?”
“In two weeks.”
Maggie blew out a long breath. “Wait. If they’re asking for the same food, that means they want
Mexican food and I don’t know how to cook that.”
“Got it covered. I’ve already asked my in-laws if you could come help them in their restaurant the
week before the event. They love the idea.”
“Can I give you an answer in a few days?”
“I’m afraid I need an answer today. This event will also be filmed for a reality TV show, so I
need to get someone on this ASAP. And because it’s last minute, the owner of the ranch is paying
three times the normal rate. We’re talking thirty thousand dollars for the week, all yours.”
Maggie grew more excited by the second. She would make in one week what it would normally
take her over six months to earn. “And this event will be on TV?”
“I can guess what you’re thinking, and yes, this could catapult your career into the big leagues. I
guess what you need to ask yourself, Maggie, is if this is what you really want to do, where you want
to be, and who you want to be with.”
Did Silver’s comments mean she knew about Cole? “Who I want to be with?”
“I can’t explain it, but my in-laws fell in love with you. Not just my in-laws, Gracie has been
talking about you non-stop. We want you here with us, Maggie.”
The tones blared through the fire station.
“Silver, I have to go,” she said, sprinting down the hall, “I’ll have an answer for you tonight.
Thank you.”
Maggie returned to the fire station less than an hour later with down trodden spirits. More times
than not, they weren’t able to save someone from cardiac arrest. She sat in meditation, focusing on
how she had made a difference by resuscitating Cole’s dad and rescuing that little girl. Thoughts of
the young girl bouncing around in her floral dress on a sunny Mother’s Day would be a happy memory
to warm Maggie’s soul forever. She could leave firefighting knowing that she had accomplished
something significant.
She plopped down on her bed and flipped her phone in her hands as it turned on. When it was
ready, she shot off a text to Silver. “I’ll do it.”

MAGGIE STEPPED out of the airport and into the sauna. Dallas had warmed considerably since she’d
been here a few weeks ago. She had asked for heat and holy cow did she get it. She needed to be
more specific in what she asked for.
After dropping her luggage off at her hotel, she went straight to Los Tios restaurant. At two
o’clock in the afternoon, Los Tios only had a few patrons.
“You must be Maggie,” a stout young man with a similar look to Ace said as he approached her.
“I’m Alex. Come on back.”
Alex led her through the bright red and yellow adobe style restaurant to the cluttered kitchen with
clean pans and serving platters piled high on nearly every surface. Ace’s mom, Fabiana, let out an
excited cry when her eyes met Maggie’s, causing Maggie to jump.
 “Margarita! I’m so glad you’re back.” Fabiana gave Maggie a hug and kiss on her cheek.
Surprisingly, Maggie warmed at how Fabiana said her name with a slight roll of her r’s.
“Thanks for allowing me to come learn from you.”
Fabiana shook her finger. “Not me.” She motioned to her sister and brother-in-law. “You
remember Veronica and Jorge?”
They tipped their heads and smiled their greeting as they passed ingredients back and forth to each
other.
“Yes,” Maggie responded. “It’s nice to see you again. I hope I can be of some assistance as I
learn.”
Fabiana clapped her hands. “I have complete faith in you. That’s why I’ve decided to spend the
afternoons with Gracie and let you work here with Veronica and Jorge. I saw the menu that you’ll be
serving at la finca, and we make those dishes every day. In three days you’ll know everything you
need to know. But first, you must try Veronica’s special tamales.”
“Oh, I’m not hungry.”
Fabiana raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms.
Maggie repented. “But I would love to try one.”
Fabiana smiled as she grabbed a tamale wrapped in caramel colored corn husks from a large
stock pot and bounced it in her hand as if it were a hot potato straight from the oven. She placed it on
a white ceramic plate and handed it to Maggie.
“Now?” Maggie coughed out.
Maggie had been starving after her flight and stopped to grab a bite of fast food on her way to Los
Tios. She already felt a bit bloated from the salt and grease of the French fries. Now there was an
original French food that Americans savored—although the Belgians claimed it as their own culinary
invention. Maggie shook her head. She had to strike French food from her mind and focus on Mexican
cuisine, at least for the next two weeks.
“You need a fork?” Fabiana handed her a fork. “Is that why you haven’t started eating?”
Fabiana wasn’t joking around. It looked like she took her food serious. Maggie could empathize
with that.
“Yes, a fork is all I need.” Maggie unwrapped the husks and dug her fork in. The steamy masa
broke away in chunks like cooled cookie dough. “Thank you.” She smiled up at Fabiana and Veronica
to find them eagerly awaiting her first bite. No pressure.
Maggie brought the fork up to her nose and tried to decipher what spices were used. In tasting
food, she could almost always pick out the spices. She had attempted recently to train her nose as
well to detect the ingredients. She caught a hint of a familiar aroma, but she couldn’t place it.
She folded her lips over the fork and moved the warm, savory tamale around her mouth with her
tongue before chewing. As she bit into the spicy pork, she closed her eyes and her mind carried her
back to a place and time of her childhood she cherished above all other memories, but in this
flashback her memory was more vivid, as if it happened in real time.
The cold water on my toes takes my breath as I stumble along the slippery stones that tumble
along the river and over the waterfalls into the magical aqua pools. Abuelita says my eyes are the
color of the magical milky blue and green waters. I give a happy yelp as I jump from the ledge and
fly through the air until the cool, peaceful water flows around me, over me, and through me. I swim
like a happy fish until Hidalgo neighs for me to go. I squeeze the water from my shirt as I run and
jump onto Hildalgo’s back. When I reach the stable, mi abuela is waiting. I run into her arms. She
doesn’t scold me for being wet or taking Hidalgo. She hands me food instead. She loves me.
“Gracias, Abuelita. Te quiero.” I bite down into her specially tamale and…”
Maggie woke from her powerful dream, or memory; she wasn’t sure exactly what it was. A strong
hand found her shoulder as her tears surfaced.
“I spoke Spanish?” Maggie said in awe to Fabiana who continued to hold her shoulder. “I swam
in magical aquamarine waterfalls? And rode my grandmother’s horse?” Maggie rubbed her eyes. “But
I couldn’t have been older than four or five.”
“Chiapas!” Fabiana nodded to Veronica. “I knew it. You’re from Chiapas.”
“Why do you think that?” Maggie questioned.
“Some of the most mystical waterfalls in the world are in Chiapas called Aguas Azules. It’s close
to the ancient city of Palenque. In that jungle, you can visit the beautiful pyramids of our Mayan
ancestors.”
“Our Mayan ancestors?” Maggie questioned.
“In the tamales,” Veronica pointed to Maggie’s plate. “My special ingredient is a pepper that only
grows in the lush jungle of Chiapas.”
“Can you teach me how to make more food from that region?” Maggie said through her tears. “I
feel like I’ve finally come home.”
“You know,” Fabiana said with a wink. “Those tamales are Cole’s favorite.”
The mention of Cole’s name sent a flush of heat through Maggie’s body. She had been successful
over the past few days to block him from her mind as she prepared the menus and organized the
events. She had decided that she would see if a friendship would work with him. She missed
Pineapple and wanted, needed, another connection like that, but she’d wait until she completed this
assignment. The job required a level head. She had to be able to focus.
Alex bolted into the kitchen in a rush. “I just seated a table of twelve. I need three chimichangas
—”
“Ahem!” Veronica cleared her throat.
“Si? Yes, Tia Veronica?” Alex questioned.
She waved a metal ladle at him. “Why don’t you ever cry when you eat my tamales?”
Fear crossed his face before he relaxed into a smile. “Because you work me so hard I never have
a chance to eat them.” He took a hot tamale out of the pan, unwrapped the top section and bit down,
fanning his mouth from the heat. “Oh, tia!” He pretended to cry. “These are amazing!”
The metal ladle twirled through the air and bounced off Alex’s arm. He rubbed the site of the hit,
pretending as if she’d maimed him. He handed Maggie the ticket. “Can you read this?”
Maggie read back the order to him. “Yep.”
“Yes!” Alex exclaimed. “Maggie, I sure hope you don’t leave. Everyone is happier with you
around.”
Pineapple was the only person Maggie knew who brought happiness to others just by being
around him. “I’m Pineapple?” she questioned with excitement.
“Sure,” Alex drawled out, giving her a look like she’d just said something crazy. “You’re a …
pineapple.” He laughed as he bounced out of the kitchen.
 11

M aggie longed for her yellow Jeep as she maneuvered along the windy dirt road ridden
with pot holes. She didn’t know how her rental car would handle the gravel, so she
kept her vehicle at a slow speed. At least there were no cars ahead of her to kick up
dust and impede her sight. She held true to her mantra:
We are no better than our worst thoughts. Be positive and a positive outcome will follow.
She could think of nothing but positive thoughts. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the
flowers were blooming. And what gorgeous flowers! Maggie parked her car in the center of the road
and jumped out. An entire landscape of burnt red and yellow blazed in the light of the setting sun.
Maggie stepped through the wildflower patch with her arms raised to her side and spun in a circle
with her face tilted to the sky, reveling in the last rays of sunlight. She had found a corner of heaven.
She stooped down to admire the hearty desert flowers and their will to survive in the scorching
climate. She plucked several flowers and brought them to her nose. They didn’t have much of a scent,
but she appreciated their rugged beauty that resembled a red daisy, but with bright yellow pigment
painting the tips of their petals.
She returned to her car with increased hope. She had observed most of the men at the Dallas
Dating event she hosted. She hadn’t been particularly attracted to any of them, but they all seemed
kind and attentive. Perhaps she had a chance with a simple rancher after all, and life on a ranch like
this was exactly what she dreamed of, but could she live without the magnetic attraction that she had
felt with Cole? She had to see him again, even if the rancher proved attentive. After this event, she’d
swallow her pride and contact Cole.
Maggie hit a section of washboard bumps in the road. She tapped her finger against the steering
wheel and scrunched her lips in thought. This would be a difficult road for a delivery truck to travel.
She’d need to call her supplier the moment she reached the ranch, so they would send out the
appropriate truck for the terrain when they delivered the supplies tomorrow. She would also be
meeting with the film crew first thing in the morning.
A pump of adrenaline shocked Maggie’s heart as a mountain lion lunged across the road in front
of her in one long, muscular leap. She clenched the steering wheel and instinctively slammed on her
brakes, throwing her car into a skid until it ultimately rested at a complete stop.
She sat erect in her chair and breathed in and out of her mouth for a full minute, willing her heart
to slow. If she went into cardiac arrest out here, she might not make it. On second thought, maybe this
ranch wasn’t the best place to hang her hat. She found comfort in the idea of having neighbors, people
who knew when she returned from home from work and kept tabs on her. A small apartment in the
city, with a roommate she could teach CPR to, could be ideal.
 She didn’t like where her imagination dragged her, but she couldn’t deny what she had seen as a
firefighter either. She knew all too well the dangers of sustaining an injury while alone. With no help
from a companion, or even a stranger, chances of survival decreased exponentially.
She reached the main lodge a few minutes later. The front receptionist’s eyes widened when
Maggie gave the elderly woman her name. “Ms. Margarita Suarez?”
Maggie cringed at the woman’s pronunciation of her name.
“Yes,” Maggie affirmed.
“You’ve been given the best room in the lodge.” The woman scratched her temple with her pen
and wrinkled her brow as if giving Maggie the room unsettled her. “It’s the owner’s private suite, but
it looks like he’ll be staying in the guest cabin while you’re here.”
“Oh, no. I can’t.” Maggie waved her hands, rejecting the offer. “Could you find me a more
appropriate room? I wouldn’t want to put him out.” And she didn’t want to “owe” him anything either.
Hopefully this guy was a gentleman, but she knew for a fact he was single, and on the prowl—
considering he’d attended the Dallas Dating event. “Do you have any other rooms available?”
“Sorry, but we only have a few rooms, and with the film crew arriving in a few hours, every room
will be occupied.”
Maggie breathed out her resignation as she took the metal key and climbed the stairs to her tower
—with a prayer that this guy would be her Prince Charming and not Rumpelstiltskin. She unlocked the
door and entered the comfortable room, but it didn’t look like a sterile suite, it looked like a normal
bedroom. She placed her backpack on the king-sized bed and rolled her suitcase to the closet. The
closet door swung open with ease, demonstrating a full wardrobe of men’s clothing, neatly hung with
precision.
She took a few steps back. This couldn’t be the right room. And if it was, what’s to say this guy
wouldn’t knock on her door in the middle of the night looking for his socks or something?
Maggie grabbed her bags and descended back down the stairs. She avoided knocking every stair
with her suitcase but wasn’t successful. After all the ruckus, it didn’t come as a surprise to find the
receptionist at the bottom of the stairs with a look of concern on her face.
“I just don’t feel right in that room,” Maggie began. “I’ll take my bags to the car. When I come
back, if we can come up with an arrangement, then I’ll grab them back out. Otherwise, I’m sure I can
find a room at a nearby hotel.”
The golden-aged receptionist simply blinked her eyes and nodded as she took the key back from
Maggie.
Maggie placed her suitcase in her trunk then swung her backpack over her shoulder. Her stomach
began to grumble. Thankfully, her backpack safely stashed away her dinner.
She breathed out a content sigh when she found a rocker on a secluded porch around the corner
from the main entrance. There she could sit and enjoy her dinner. She sat and rested the backpack
between her legs at her feet as she watched the stars brighten in the clear night sky.
Maggie hoped that she had made the right decision. If she had any chance of a relationship with
this rancher, she may have blown it by refusing to stay in his room. He was probably just being
chivalrous by lending her his room, but this guy was still a stranger to her.
She closed her eyes and listened to how the crickets rang in the first sight of moonlight with their
rapid song. The sound of tires on gravel interrupted her reverie. She opened her eyes to three black
vans slowing to a stop in front of the front entrance. She watched intently as five men and three
women filed out of the vans with their sunglasses still in place. Were they afraid someone would
recognize them here?
 “So, what’s the spin on this one?” one of the men asked another. “I forget what we’re going for
here.”
“Idiot playboy tries to catch a high society dame. When she refuses him, he tries to play the ‘I’m a
good guy’ card by bringing in all these mentally ill kids but she sees right through him. Something like
that. This woman, Josie something, is all over it. Something tells me she’s in it for the fame.”
“Aren’t they all?” the second man said with a smirk. “Let’s give the viewers what they want.”
These guys were creeps in the worst sense of the word. Maggie had no idea who the owner of this
ranch was or why these guys were trying to smear him, but it wasn’t right. Once the camera crew
were all inside, Maggie pulled out her phone and dialed Tori’s husband, Zee. As a documentary
executive producer and close friend, Zee would have some good advice for her, and perhaps even
lend her a hand.
“Hey Zee, I need your help. What are the chances you have a few days to join me in Dallas? You
know how you’ve been wanting to expose certain reality TV shows for the scripted trash they really
are in one of your documentaries? Well, I’ve got the perfect story. And I’ll be in your debt. Maybe
watch your precious little girl for you and Tori for a few weeks so you can travel?”
Zee asked her what was so pressing. She related to him everything she knew, which wasn’t much,
but even with the limited information he promised to clear his schedule and catch a morning flight.
Zee was her hero.
“Have I told you how much I love you!” she said before hanging up.
The receptionist rounded the corner. “Everything okay, miss?”
“Sorry,” Maggie said shyly. “I hope I didn’t disturb anyone.”
“No. Not at all. I’m just headed to dinner. I’ll be back in an hour. Have you decided where you
would like to stay tonight?”
Maggie shrugged. “Would you mind leaving the key with me?”
The receptionist held up the same metal key as earlier. “I thought you would change your mind,”
she said with a smile. “Please let me know if you need anything.”
Maggie sat back down on the swing and dug into her bag for her dinner until a horse’s neigh
distracted her. She jumped up and followed the sound to the stables where a middle-aged cowboy
removed a saddle from off a mare.
“She’s beautiful,” Maggie exclaimed, causing the cowboy to nearly loose his footing as he jumped
back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Maggie.”
“Maggie, the chef?”
She shrugged. “Guess you can call me that.” She winked. “I’ve been called worse. So, what’s her
name?” Maggie questioned, stroking the horse’s forehead and side of her face.
“Lilly.”
“That’s sweet.”
“We try to give the horses tender names to match their personalities. Lilly here is a favorite
amongst the Down syndrome kids due to how gentle she is with them. She’s an amazing therapy
horse.”
“Therapy horse?” Maggie’s heart soared. She loved this rancher already. “Why does your boss do
this? It can’t be very lucrative.”
The cowboy shook his head. “Simple answer: He loves the kids and wants to provide their
families with an opportunity to bond with these precious animals and each other through equestrian
therapy.”
“I grew up around horses but don’t have access to them now.” Maggie perked up. “Do you think I
might be able to ride her tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is busy, but how about now? Let me saddle her back up. She knows this trail.” He
pointed to a hill. “It’s just a mile round trip.”
“Sounds fabulous, but you don’t need to saddle her. I prefer riding bareback. I enjoy the
connection formed with the horse when riding bareback.”
“There shouldn’t be any problem riding bareback on such a short ride.” He handed her the reins
with a smile. “Enjoy your ride, Maggie.”
Maggie adjusted her backpack straps to secure a snug fit and used a nearby stool to step up onto
Lilly’s back. The first few minutes of the ride were exhilarating, but when she couldn’t see the lights
of the lodge, or anything else for that matter, she panicked. Horses typically knew their way home, but
would this horse want to go home right away? As the moon rose in the sky, she grew more nervous,
not for the horse, they had excellent night vision—for herself. Her only option was to trust Lilly.
After a few additional minutes, the road curved into a U. Maggie relaxed with the assumption that
Lilly was turning back to the lodge.
The rattling of a snake’s tail stopped Lilly in her tracks. The trail came alive in front of them.
Lilly spooked and jumped to the side. Maggie grabbed firm to Lilly’s mane for stability. This would
have been a good time for a saddle. Lilly threw her head back and turned when the snake coiled. Lilly
bolted in the opposite direction, away from the lodge. Maggie was able to hold on until Lilly made a
sharp turn, causing Maggie to lose her grip and catapult through the air.
Maggie tensed as she tumbled across the gravel and into the low bushes. Her arms and legs stung
as the blood began to drip from her road rash, but she didn’t have any sharp pain. She sighed out her
relief as she sat up and verified that she hadn’t sustained any breaks.
Not only were the crickets louder tonight than Maggie had ever experienced, a team of frogs
added to the crickets’ chorus. By the frogs’ presence, she guessed that water was close by. As she
walked back along the road heading toward where she believed was the lodge, she reevaluated her
injuries. She had gotten scraped up in the gravel pretty good and wasn’t looking forward to scrubbing
the tiny rocks out of her flesh when she got back to her room. She prayed she wouldn’t run into the
film crew as they tested their cameras for tomorrow. She preferred her tumble not be part of their
story.
The stench of rotting animal overcame her. She slapped her hand over her mouth and nose as she
peeked behind a bush to find a half-eaten deer. With immediate nausea threatening to stop her in her
tracks and heave, she pushed on. She had to get away from the area to prevent meeting the animal that
killed that deer. At least she was wearing neutral, dark clothing that blended with her surroundings.
She wouldn’t want to be mistaken for prey, especially not the prey of a mountain lion.
Maggie picked up her pace when she had the eerie feeling of being watched. That apartment in the
city was looking better by the minute.
 12

C ole gripped the steering wheel of his truck as he approached a section of the road with skid
marks in the dirt. He pulled to the side of the road and hopped out, half expecting to see a
dead deer in the field.
He scratched his head. There were no deer tracks in the dirt, but there were other tracks. Cole
leaned over and examined the large feline tracks set a healthy distance apart. He had never personally
seen a mountain lion but had heard of sightings in the area. Cougars typically kept their distance from
humans. Having a mountain lion in the area would explain why the family of eight or ten deer who
migrated down to lodge from time to time had recently been down in their numbers.
Cole grabbed a bright yellow vest from the back seat and slipped it on before stepping a few feet
farther into the brush to see where the tracks headed. Mountain lions didn’t have great sight and he
wouldn’t want to be mistaken for prey. Deer blended in with their surroundings. He ran through the
forest service’s recommendations in his head; look big, wear bright clothing, do not run or speed
walk, never turn your back to the cat, avoid low-light times like dusk or dawn, stay away from a
cache or kill.
By the tracks, it appeared like the lion was heading away from the lodge and barn. Cole would
have to warn his staff, the camera crew, and Maggie to be vigilant. Maggie. He blew out a long
breath as he hopped back into his truck. This could either be an amazing reunion or she could throw
her chef’s hat in his face and yell at him for tricking her into coming, but he hadn’t actually tricked
her.
Silver had recommended Maggie from the start and had no idea Cole had any interest in her.
When he really thought about it, Silver may have had an inkling after their last conversation, but she
had agreed that Maggie was the perfect person for the job, no matter Cole’s ulterior motives.
This week would be telling. If Maggie wanted to be with him, then he would get it out of her. If
not, well, he didn’t have a plan for that because he couldn’t imagine his life without her. He found it
interesting how just a few weeks ago Maggie meant no more to him than a friend of Pineapple’s. Now
she was everything.
He found Kelly, the receptionist and family friend at her desk searching something on the web.
“Hi, Kelly. Has anyone arrived yet?”
“They all have,” she said with a shrug.
“They have?” he said with surprise. “I wasn’t expecting the film crew for a few more hours.”
He’d hoped to have some alone time with Maggie. He didn’t want the film crew to witness their
first encounter, especially if Maggie wasn’t happy to see him. The last time he saw her, she had given
him a ride to the hospital. That alone demonstrated her forgiving and caring nature by how she offered
to take him to the hospital to see his father after she had discovered how he had deliberately deceived
her. It had all been to get her to like him, but it backfired. He prayed that she would not only forgive
him for this second round of mischief but fall for him.
“Is Maggie in her room?”
“You mean your room?” Kelly yawned. “She didn’t feel comfortable in there and stomped back
out.”
That wasn’t a good first sign. “Where is she now?”
Kelly scratched her head with her pen. “I gave her the key again, because it seemed like she might
stay in there after all, but then she never came back in. Last time I saw her she was swinging on the
bench.”
Cole hurried back out to the side of the building to the swing. He cursed. Where could she have
gone? A thought came to his mind when he looked up at the surveillance camera pointing down at the
sidewalk. The entire perimeter was under surveillance. He ran back inside to his office and brought
up the past hour’s feed on his computer. He stopped the rewind at the point where Maggie first came
outside. He freeze-framed on her face for a few seconds before continuing. He smiled when she took
particular interest in the film crew. He turned up the volume and rewound when he caught something
about a dame. They weren’t talking about Maggie, were they?
He clenched his jaw as he listened to their conversation. But then Maggie’s phone call to her
friend somehow lightened his spirit to where he no longer felt malice for the film crew. Although that
wouldn’t stop him from kicking them off his property before they could set up their cameras in the
morning. He had a rock-solid contract and, with the evidence of the video footage to prove their
intent, he could now say goodbye to the crew without any serious consequences.
Cole continued watching the footage until he found his answer to where Maggie had gone. The
video clearly showed her mounting Lilly and riding away. He locked up his office and sprinted to the
stables. A wave of fear flowed down his spine when he found Lilly pacing back and forth in front of
the barn.
He ran to his truck, grabbed a loaded gun from the locked rack, and sprinted back to the stables.
He got Lilly inside and saddled up Spirit, his fastest horse. He jumped into the saddle and galloped
up the trail. He was only a few minutes in when he heard the voice of an angel and noticed a campfire
off the trail about a half mile farther up.

MAGGIE HELD her palms out to the fire and sang out one of her favorite Christmas songs to calm her
nerves. Her instinct a few minutes ago had been to run, but she knew that wouldn’t be smart. The one
thing she remembered from elementary school safety class was to never run from a dog when walking
to or from school.
She had no idea where she was or even if was headed in the right direction. The one thing she
thought would help would be to build a fire. A fire would keep the wild animals at bay and hopefully
someone would see her fire and come soon. If not, she would start walking again when her fire died
down. For now, she’d sit and eat her dinner; she was starving.
As she pulled her sandwich from her bag, she heard the magical sound of horses’ hooves
galloping toward her.
“Maggie!” a deep familiar voice rang out as Lilly came to a stop in front of her campfire and a
man jumped off his horse.
Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. “Cole?” The attraction hadn’t waned with time. She had to
plant her feet in the dirt to not throw herself into his arms.
“You’re surprised to see me,” he stated. “Is that a good surprise, or a bad surprise?”
His low, sultry voice slowly heated her core. She couldn’t resist; she threw her arms around him
and gave him a hearty squeeze. “Considering I thought I might not make it back to camp before being
attacked by a wild animal, I’d say it’s a good surprise.”
“I’m impressed with your wilderness skills.” He pointed to the fire. “How did you get it started?”
“By rubbing sticks together,” she said with pride.
“Really?” he said, taking a seat by the flames and examining her fire.
She laughed. “No. I have an emergency kit in my backpack with matches.”
“I’m so relieved you’re okay.” He shook his head. “When I saw those cougar tracks—”
“Cougar tracks!” she screamed. “So that is what I saw on the road! I thought so.”
“Wait. You saw the cougar?” He held up a hand. “That mountain lion would have heard your car
coming and stayed away. It isn’t easy for a walker to come up on a cougar without the cougar knowing
it and fleeing. The fact that she crossed your path while you were driving scares me. This is strange
behavior. I wonder if she’s sick?” He pulled at his hair. “This isn’t good. When these big cats are sick
or injured, they’ve been known to ignore their fear, come into our space, and attack an easy prey. The
kids! I need to cancel the camp.”
Maggie could hear the terror in Cole’s voice and wanted to help soothe him. “I’m sure it’ll be
fine.” She bent down and dug through her bag. “Here. Have your favorite sandwich, then we’ll
reassess.”
She handed him the mozzarella, prosciutto, pesto, and plum tomato sandwich she’d picked up at
the international market on her way to the ranch. He needed it more than she did. He took the
sandwich from her, examined it and smiled before handing it back.
“Thanks, but I don’t eat mozzarella. I’m allergic to milk.”
“But I thought?” She stopped and held up a finger for him to give her a minute to think.
“The sandwich was for Gracie. It’s her favorite.”
Maggie’s head spun. She had misread Cole from the beginning. Her affection for him not only
deepened, it overpowered her. “I’m starting to think you might not be such a bad guy.”
He placed his hand over hers, sending shooting sparks up her arm. “Does this mean that your
opinion of me has improved?”
She slowly batted her lashes and smiled. “You could say that.”
“I’m glad you’re here with me Maggie.”
“And what about Jackie?”
“Right.” He scrunched his face as if in pain. “Josie, actually. She wasn’t happy I called her Jackie
all evening at the auction.”
Maggie laughed, but felt uneasy that it didn’t seemed resolved with Josie. “So, what’s the scoop
with Josie?”
“She’ll be here in two days. For the afternoon. She wanted to be here all week, but there was no
way that was happening. This is an important week for me.”
Maggie’s heart sped at the notion that Cole might be more than a hired hand on this ranch.
Whatever he was, one thing was for sure, he had no interest in Josie.
She threaded her fingers through his with a smile. When he winked back at her, she released a
sigh of contentment. “Why is this week so important to you?”
 “These kids mean the world to me.”
Her heart melted, but she needed answers because she was falling hard for this guy. “About that.”
She raised an eyebrow. Her excitement grew with the possibility that her happily ever after had a real
chance of becoming a reality. “I have a few questions. I’ll put another log on the fire and you can
explain to me why we’re both here.” As she leaned over to throw another log down, she heard a
rustling behind her.
Cole threw up his chin as he readied his gun. “Maggie,” he said calmly, but she read the fear in
his eyes as he looked over her shoulder at something. “Don’t move a muscle.”
Her adrenaline spiked. She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer as the loud bang of a gunshot
echoed through her eardrums, leaving her with a muffled ringing sound reverberating in her ears as
she collapsed to the earth. Her pounding heart told her that she hadn’t died, not yet.
Cole slowly turned her over and ran his hand down her face. “Are you okay?” His voice waved
through the air like a cry under water.
She nodded. “Do you know CPR, in case my heart stops?”
“I think I can figure it out,” he said, lowering his face and gently opening her lips with his.
If she had the energy she would have laughed. “Thanks not what I meant,” she whispered as their
breath mingled.
“Are you sure?” he said through their intertwined lips. “Because I feel like in this position we can
navigate anything life throws at us.”
Her body ached to have him kiss her deeper. She wanted to know if this was real and if her
dreams really had come true. “And what would the rancher think of you shooting a mountain lion on
his property and kissing his chef?”
He released her lips and sat up, resting into his elbow. “I’d say, he has a hunting license and was
protecting the woman he loved.”
Cole loved her. The world suddenly made sense as she soared above the precipice of the tallest
mountain with the freedom of an eagle. She blinked her lashes, “I was hoping you’d turn out to be the
rancher, but that only happens in fairytales.”
“And I’d say, kiss her again so this beautiful princess can turn your ugly self into a prince.”
She reached up, ran her fingers along his cheek to the back of his neck, and pulled him down to
her as she drank in his milk chocolate eyes. “I promise to catch you when you fall, if you promise to
clear the lions from my path.”
“Done,” he said, sealing his promise to her with the passionate kiss she’d been longing for since
he’d strolled into her kitchen looking like the titanic protector he proved to be.
 EPILOGUE
ON E YEA R L A TER

M aggie stretched her arms and yawned as she strolled down the aisle of the
international market at lunchtime. With a few of her staff out with the flu this week,
she had woken at four am that morning, stumbled across her tiny downtown apartment,
upsetting her sleeping roommate, and sped to the ranch to bake the croissants and Paris Breast, the
choux pastry filled with praline mousseline cream.
The wedding guests had enjoyed the authentic Parisian style breakfast. She wouldn’t have done
that for just anyone. She had grown to love and appreciate the Titan players who helped out at the
ranch, and one of favorite players had asked to have his wedding celebrations at their ranch.
Correction, it wasn’t their ranch. She wasn’t married.
She sighed out her disappointment when she reached the Italian deli counter. She and Cole had
discussed marriage on several occasions, but he hadn’t asked her, and she was starting to wonder if
he ever would.
“Hey, Maggie!” Benji gave her a wide smile from the other side of the counter.
“Good to see your smiling face, Benji. Can I have my usual?”
“What’s that?”
What was he playing? She had ordered the same sandwich almost every week for the past year,
but maybe he just wanted to hear her say it. She’d appease him. “Um, mozzarella, prosciutto, pesto,
and plum tomato, please.”
“You got it.” He gave her an exaggerated wink.
Something was off with him today. She tipped her head to the side as he slowly wrapped the
sandwich and scrawled on the white paper with his black Sharpie.
He gave her a long look as he timidly handed her the sandwich. “This was made with love.”
She wrinkled her brow. Oh, no. She had never intentionally flirted with Benji, but she was always
super kind to him. Could he have misread her friendly affection for something more intimate? He was
headed to college soon, but he was at least four years younger than her and he knew she was dating
Cole.
“Benji,” she bit her bottom lip before continuing. She took in a deep breath. “You’re really great.”
She paused when he stared down at her sandwich.
She followed his eyes to the scrawling on the sandwich wrapper. The lettering was longer than
normal. It read, “Will you marry me?”
Maggie’s eyes widened as she tried to swallow down the lump in her throat. She slowly blew out
a slow breath, formulating in her mind how to let Benji down as gently as possible.
“Maggie,” Cole’s voice came like thunder from behind her.
 Her body flushed as she spun around to find Cole down on one knee, extending a solitaire
diamond ring out to her.
His eyes welled with tears. “I’m tired of being the forbidden groom and will love you for all
eternity if you will allow me to. Maggie, will you marry me?”
She brought her hands to her chest as her respirations quickened and her heart beat against her rib
cage.
He gave her a nod as if trying to hurry her answer.
“Yes!” she yelled and ran to him.
He rose up and enveloped her in his strong arms. She grabbed his face and planted a kiss on him
she made sure he would never forget. She had finally made it home, and this was a homecoming she
planned on repeating every day for the rest of their lives.

THANK you for reading The Forbidden Groom! If you enjoyed this book, explore Sarah Gay’s other
clean reads:

Love Overboard
Catching a Counterfeit Cowboy
How to Train a Husband
How to Catch a Kiss
Twisted Timber
The Spark of a Kiss
 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Raised in Milwaukee, Wisconsin and Atlanta, Georgia, Sarah currently calls the northern Utah mountains, and the southern Utah red
rocks, home. She graduated in Human Development from Brigham Young University and spent several years working as a Human
Resource Professional. Her human resource skills are now utilized managing a workforce of four young children. When Sarah’s team is
being trained off campus, she dedicates her time to writing inspirational stories.
She would love to hear from you and can be contacted at sarah@sarahgay.com. To register for new releases, promotions, and free
recipes, sign up for her newsletter at http://www.sarahgay.com/register/.
 MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR

If you enjoyed The Forbidden Groom, please consider posting a review on Amazon. Also, please
watch for upcoming Texas Titan books by Cami Checketts, Taryn Hart, Jennifer Youngblood, and Lucy
McConnell.
The Texas Titans is a fictional NFL team based on interviews of ex-NFL players and is not meant
to resemble any NFL team or player. Any resemblance to NFL teams or players is purely
coincidental.
The Park City Fire Department is a fictional department that blends elements and culture of
various American fire departments. The author based the characters and the department on interviews
with various agencies in multiple states, as well as 15 years firefighter/paramedic experience of one
of the authors of the Park City Fire Department Series. It is not intended to represent or resemble Park
City Fire District.