Angela Cummings has been a widow for over ten long years. She thinks
she's found Mr. Right in Greg Thompson, he's smart, handsome,
respectable and what more could she ask for? Except maybe...her son to
like him.
Then Cooper Johnson rides into town on a broken down Harley looking sexier than a man has a right to. Angela grew up with Coop, he even knew her husband.
Cooper is a searching man, looking for the elusive thing called a home. He's wandered far and wide and wants to settle down, but he doesn't show any outward signs of having much to offer a woman...except his love.
Then Cooper Johnson rides into town on a broken down Harley looking sexier than a man has a right to. Angela grew up with Coop, he even knew her husband.
Cooper is a searching man, looking for the elusive thing called a home. He's wandered far and wide and wants to settle down, but he doesn't show any outward signs of having much to offer a woman...except his love.
Can Angela go through with her plans with Greg when it's Coop that offers her love instead.
How can she marry one when her heart is with another?
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EXCERPT
Angela
Cummings let out a muffled wail, as John Wayne stood above the rocks watching
his mother's funeral in The Sons of Katie Elder, a little old man half turned
in his seat to shush her from a couple of aisles down. She didn't know him
personally, but she'd seen him in the theatre before.
"Sorry,"
she muttered, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
"You
always were a sucker for this one, Angel,"
A deep, husky voice startled and awakened her senses.
Angela whirled
about, knocking half her popcorn onto the floor and nearly spilling her soft
drink.
"I don't
believe it—Cooper
Johnson?" she shrieked as
several people glanced their way.
"The one
and only, but you're obstructing my view with all that hair artillery. I thought
curlers went out a long time ago."
Angela's mouth hung
a in lowly whispered gasp. She must have looked pretty ridiculous, as Cooper Johnson
reached the distance to close it for her. His warm hand sent a shiver of
unexpected reactions through her.
"Watch
out, Angel, I might think you're glad
to see me."
"Just a
little surprised," she said trying to find her voice.
He leaned
forward again, his warm breath tickling her scalp as he spoke. "Missed
me?"
"Not
really," she said and turned back around as though dismissing a pestky
fly. "What brings you back to town?"
"You,
naturally," he said smiling devilishly as she glanced at him over her
shoulder.
Without
warning, he slid a leg over the seat next to her and joined her. Her heart did
a quick flip‑flop when she met him almost eye-to-eye. She had forgotten how
lethal he was, and how easily he aroused her senses.
He took her
popcorn. "Maybe I better hold this, if we don't want it all over the
floor."
He offered her
the popcorn, her popcorn.
Exasperation
climbed all over her, but she squashed it with a purpose.
"I love
this movie." She whispered instead.
His eyes swept
over her like a broom leaving wisps in its journey. "Yeah," he said
with a husky note, and finally chuckled softly, his long arm stretching behind her.
"They don't make them like the Duke anymore, do they?"
Again the
little man in front turned around, "Do you mind? I'm trying to watch this
movie."
Cooper nodded.
"No, they
don't." Angela deliberately
ignored the little man. "I love John Wayne,
though." She saw the look Cooper
Johnson was giving her and rushed
to explain. "I mean, oh, not like you're thinking. More like a father.
He's an icon, an image of what a real man should be."
"I can
relate to that. He's a hard image to live up to, though."
"I seriously
doubt anyone could," she quipped.
Suddenly, Cooper Johnson
was smiling at her, a devastating smile that curled her toes, and made her
heartbeat quicken. "There is, was, and always will be only one John Wayne."
"Darn
straight."
Obviously
perturbed by their constant talking, the little man got up and moved to the
other side of the theatre.
"Oops,"
Angela chuckled softly.
His hand fell
against her shoulder, and she practically jumped out of her seat. Again he
chuckled, obviously delighted by her reactions. The devil was in Cooper Johnson's
eyes.
"You
know," he drawled, his eyes traveling about the theatre with open
amusement. "It's hard to believe this place is still open. A lot of the
older theaters are closing down these days. Nice to see some things don't
change. Gosh, I remember hitching rides with my grandfather just to see the
Saturday Matinees. John
Wayne was usually a special back
then. I'd get up before daylight to get my chores done in time. Most of the
kids were here to watch Superman, but not me. No, I loved the shoot‑'em‑ups."
Angela's mind
fluttered back in time to her younger years. Cooper
had been the big kid on the neighbouring farm. They both walked to school on
the same road every day, but never together. Cooper
paid little or no attention to a skinny little girl in pig‑tails and braces.
"It was
the only place to be on those long, hot Saturdays," she said with a slight
curl to her lips. "They tried to tear this place down once. But the
townspeople got together and asked the owners if they would leave it open for
late night oldies."
"And were
you one of those townspeople?"
"Naturally."
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