Texas Bossa Nova (Texas Montgomery Mavericks Book 5)By: Cynthia D Alba
He plans to take the wander right out of her wanderlust.
Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 5
Magda Hobbs’s job as ranch housekeeper—and its daily dose of cowboys—wreaked havoc on her libido. Especially one certain cowboy she couldn’t resist. Scared of going down the same path as her mother, Magda jumped on her motorcycle and hit the road.
Five months later, her father’s mild heart attack has forced her back to Whispering Springs. While she’s grateful for the cleaning job at one of the Montgomery ranch houses, she’s not so thrilled one of the cowboys she’s looking after is the one she fell for last spring.
Reno Montgomery’s parents hiring a housekeeper for him and his brother is a nice surprise, but he’s shocked to discover it’s Magda, the woman who up and left just when things were getting serious between them.
When a freak snowstorm cuts off the outside world, the isolation rekindles their desire. But when the weather and the roads clear, Reno has to work hard and fast to keep the woman of his dreams from accelerating right out of his life again.
Warning: Contains a woman born with a bad case of wanderlust, and a cowboy determined to show her that life’s a dance that doesn’t have to two-step her out of his life.
As usual, I’m in debt to Sandi Jones for her awesome critiques for this story. Thanks for being such a fantastic crit partner. To Tina Marie Reiter, Paula Farrell and Delene Yochum, thanks for being very special members of D’Alba Diamonds, my street team, and for doing beta reads for this book. A special thank you to Delene Yochum for handling all the street team duties while I recovered from surgery.
As always, my editor Heidi Moore rocks. Thank you for all your hard work on this book and your patience. You made Magda and Reno’s story much stronger.
To my husband. Thanks, honey, for your love and support. I couldn’t do this without you.
Icy rain splattered the helmet shield and rolled off the rider’s rain suit. No matter how many layers a motorcycle rider had on, riding in wet weather when the temperature was just above freezing was miserable, or at least it was in Magda Hobbs’s opinion. And since it was her ass on the Harley-Davidson Fat Boy tonight, she figured her opinion was the only one that counted.
Of course, she’d done all the right layering to stay warm, including shoving today’s newspaper down the front of her jacket as a wind barrier, but her glove-covered hands and fingers still felt a little stiff from the low temperature. If she’d had time, a heat pack in each glove would have solved that issue, but two hours ago she’d been at her latest crappy job—Santa’s elf helper—when the call had come in about her father. Mild heart attack, Mitch Landry had told her. There was nothing mild about a heart attack.
She’d quit her job on the spot—no loss really—packed everything she owned into her saddlebags and top box and taken off for Texas. In the five months since she’d left Whispering Springs, Texas, she’d worked her way across Arkansas, taking one dead-end job after another. Dish washer. Hotel maid. Store clerk. Any job that paid weekly and didn’t require a long-term commitment. She never stayed longer than a month anywhere she stopped. She’d hit Memphis in the middle of December, found a cheap, furnished room, and taken the job as Santa’s helper, which wouldn’t have been a bad job if Santa hadn’t been a sexist drunk who couldn’t keep his hands off her ass.
It was after ten o’clock at night when she passed over the Memphis Bridge into Arkansas. Ahead of her was an eight-hour ride, which any biker knew was insane. That was too far and too long of a ride in one stretch, but if her dad died before she got there, she’d never forgive herself. Zeb Hobbs was the only family she had.
Zeb hadn’t known he had a daughter. It’d taken California social services three years to notify him about Magda, and another two years for him to find her. She’d been nineteen when Zeb had rescued her off the streets where she’d been living after running away from her last foster home. He’d pretty much saved her life.
And how had she repaid him? By leaving. Not immediately. She’d hung around for four years, but then she’d seen herself headed down the same road as her mother, and she couldn’t face that.