This Feels Like Home

Inc.

This Feels Like Home

by

Debra St. John

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

This Feels Like Home

COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Deborah Rittle

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

Cover Art by Angela Anderson

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Yellow Rose Edition, 2014

Print ISBN 978-1-62830-031-4

Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-032-1

Published in the United States of America

Praise for Debra St. John

THIS CAN’T BE LOVE

2010 Best Contemporary Winner

~Love Romances Café

The story and characters tugged at my heart while reading. I enjoyed this book very much…If you like a contemporary, passionate and emotional read, then laugh and cry along with this one. An author who can make the reader feel so many things is one that has staying power in the writing world.

~Long and Short Reviews (Five Books)

THIS TIME FOR ALWAYS

Reader’s Pick of the Month—November

~Jennette Green’s Romance Novel Blog

Ms. Debra St. John has created a magnificent storyline in this, her first published work…Her couple faced so many devastating situations that it was impossible to not get sincerely involved in their ups and downs…The sensual scenes were beautifully written…I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys an expressive romance with a happily ever after.

~The Romance Studio (Five Hearts)

Dedication

To my wonderful husband, John.

No cowboy looks better than you

in a hat, boots, and jeans.

Dear Reader,

I am so excited to bring you This Feels Like Home. The story finishes a series that began with my debut TWRP novel This Time for Always and continued with This Can’t Be Love. For those of you familiar with the first two books in the series, you’ll know all about this story’s hero, Jake. Jake is the third of a trio of characters I thought up way back when I first had the dream to write a romance novel. Having this third book published really is the culmination of a dream come true.

Jake was the guy always there for his friends, and who often helped them find their way down true love’s path but planned on steering clear of love for himself, so he could focus on his rodeo career. But of course, we all know it takes just the right woman to come along and change a hero’s mind, so I brought Amber into Jake’s life.

The fun part about a series is we get to peek into other characters’ lives and see how they’re doing. In This Feels Like Home, we get to see a bit more of Logan and Sharlie’s and Zach and Jessica’s happily ever afters.

So from the bottom of my heart, thank you for choosing this book to read. I hope you enjoy getting to know these characters who have been near and dear to my heart for a very long time.

For more about The Corral series, visit my website at www.debrastjohnromance.com

Happy Reading!

Debra

Chapter One

Jake Hawkins spotted the newcomer right away. Her fancy clothes made her look as out of place as boots on a chicken. No one in the entire state of Texas would wear a fancy sweater and dress slacks to the Corral. Not to mention heels so thin they looked like they’d snap if she tried to walk on them.

But his gaze didn’t linger too long on her attire. Instead, he studied her as best he could from across the bar. She leaned toward her friend, elbow on the table, chin resting in her hand. Her legs were crossed. One foot waved in the air. She wore her dark hair up in some kind of twist. As she gestured, her features settled into a frown. He wished he could tell what color her eyes were.

Order, please.

He swiveled in his seat to face one of the waitresses. Hey, sugar, what’s up?

She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. Not much. Busy night.

He nodded. Glad I don’t have door duty tonight.

The bartender approached. What do you need, Tina?

Hey, Nick. She consulted her notes. I need four regulars, three lites, a cola, and a cosmopolitan.

Jake frowned. A what?

She rolled her eyes. Table twenty-two. She jerked her head toward the back of the bar. Out of towner wants a cosmopolitan.

Jake didn’t need to glance in the direction she indicated. He could have guessed anyone dressed like that wouldn’t order anything as mundane as a beer.

Do you know how to make one of those? he asked.

Of course. I can make anything, Nick said.

What’s in it?

Vodka, triple sec, cranberry juice, and a splash of lime. If I want to be really fancy, I’ll garnish it with a lime wedge. He grinned. Want to try one?

Jake grimaced. No, thanks. He glanced over his shoulder. Do you think she wants a little umbrella in it too?

Nope. Those are only for tropical drinks. Margaritas. Daiquiris.

Of course they are.

So you’re part of the big auction tonight, huh? Nick opened a cooler behind the bar and took out the beer.

Jake ducked his head. Yeah. He shifted in his seat.

You don’t sound so thrilled.

I prefer to get my own dates, thanks. But it’s for a good cause. I couldn’t say no to Sharlie.

I thought maybe you were hard up and this was the only way you could get a date.

Yeah, right. I can get a date with anyone in this place.

How about that guy over there? Nick pointed. He looks lonely.

Ha-ha.

Seriously though, you have dated almost every female in this place. In fact, I’ve never seen you with the same girl twice.

And you never will. Love ’em and leave ’em was his motto. And he made damn sure he was the one who did the leaving.

You ever going to settle down with one woman?

Nope. He’d come close once. Once had been enough. Where’s the fun in that? He forced a note of levity into his voice to dispel the unwanted reminder of the past.

Nick’s gaze roamed around the bar as he rocked a silver shaker in his hand. He poured the pink mixture into a stemmed glass. So, you can get a date with anyone in the bar, hey? Care to make it interesting?

What did you have in mind?

Fifty bucks says you can’t get a date…hell, make it a dance…with Ms. Cosmo. He held up the drink.

Jake snorted. I thought you were going to make it something difficult. He stood.

She’s not your usual type. Think you can handle it?

Jake grinned. It’s going to be a pleasure taking your money. He adjusted his hat, settling it into position. I prefer cash, by the way.

Nick held out his fist and Jake bumped his own against it. Break a leg.

Jake chuckled. I hope not. I’m riding next weekend. Anticipation curled in the pit of his stomach. Adrenaline coursed through him as if he were in the ring instead of the bar. There was nothing in the world like facing off against a ton of muscled flesh and sinew.

But for now, a more immediate challenge claimed his interest. He made his way through the crowd, greeting people he recognized but not stopping to chat with anyone in particular.

Hey, Jake.

He turned toward the voice. Cindy—or was it Sally?—waved to get his attention.

Save me a dance?

He winked. Sure thing, he said over his shoulder. He’d make good on the promise later. For now, the classy lady who’d ordered the fancy drink claimed his attention.

****

Amber Winfield fought the urge to cover her ears to block the loud country music. Across the table, her cousin mouthed something.

What?

Gail leaned in, but still had to shout. Wow, I’m glad I reserved a table. This place is packed tonight.

Amber grimaced as someone jostled her chair on their way by. Yes, it is. So tell me again why we’re here.

I always hang out here. I figured you’d get a kick out of local life. You know, since you’re visiting from the big city and all.

Amber rolled her eyes. Great. Her gaze took in the crowded barroom. Dancers squeezed into every available spot on the parquet dance floor. They moved in perfect synchronization as they stomped, hitched, stepped, and whirled in intricate patterns. Every table in the room was occupied, and people stood in all the places between. The three oak bars were barely visible beyond the hordes of people, many of them wearing cowboy hats, massed around them. In a far corner of the room, players gathered around several pool tables.

Are there always so many people here?

Depends. Tonight’s a big night. The owners are doing a special fundraiser. Gail raised an eyebrow. What? The crowd bothers you? You live in Chicago, one of the most populated places on earth. I’m sure the bars there are a zillion times more crowded than this.

I wouldn’t know. I outgrew the bar scene a long time ago. I leave that kind of thing to you youngsters.

Now Gail rolled her eyes. Youngsters. She snorted. Yeah, ’cause you’re like what? Thirty? That’s really old.

Thirty-two. Amber sat up straighter.

Yep, ready for Social Security any day now. And is that a gray hair I see?

They both laughed.

Here are your drinks, ladies. The waitress’s peppy voice interrupted their conversation. She placed cocktail napkins on the table in front of them before setting the glasses down.

Gail wrinkled her nose at Amber’s drink. What is that again?

Amber glanced down at the pink, opaque drink. It’s a cosmopolitan. Her tone took on a defensive edge. Look, you dragged me into this dive. I might as well derive a little bit of pleasure out of it.

Gail looked contrite. I’m sorry. We don’t have to stay if you really don’t like it here. I just wanted to thank you for coming out to take care of Mom. And to give you a little break from her. I know she can be…difficult. And I wanted to give you a little taste of my world while you’re here. As you can see, this is a bit different than the city. She waved her hand to encompass the room.

Amber’s mouth quirked into a reluctant smile. You can say that again. Her gaze flicked around the room. Saddles, boots, and ropes hung from the raftered ceiling. Tin signs decorated the walls. She avoided the glassy-eyed stare of a stuffed moose head mounted nearby.

She turned her attention back to Gail. No, I’m the one who’s sorry. It’s been great visiting with you. Thanks for bringing me out tonight. It definitely is a different world around here. Even though I’m technically working, it’s almost like a vacation. And I haven’t had one of those in forever. It’s actually nice to get away.

If you really want a break from real life, maybe we can find you a nice cowboy to hook up with. I’m sure that would take your mind off of just about anything. She waggled her eyebrows.

Amber laughed. No, thanks. I’m sure the time away will be sufficient. To forestall further comments on the subject, she changed it. So, what’s this fundraiser all about tonight?

The owners of this place, Logan and Sharlie Reed, are starting an adoption foundation. Tonight’s proceeds from the silent auction will go toward that. Which I want to check out by the way.

Don’t let me stop you.

Gail hopped down from her chair. You don’t want to join me?

Amber shook her head. I think I’ll hang here and soak up all of the—she waved her hand—atmosphere.

Yeah, right. Okay, whatever floats your boat. I won’t be long. She turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Amber pulled her phone from her purse and scrolled through the list of texts. Mark wanted to know when his new cabinets would be in. She thumbed a quick reply to let him know she hadn’t heard from the company yet but would be in touch as soon as she had. Then Adam needed the number for the physical therapy place. She checked her contact list and forwarded the information.

Next she punched in the code to retrieve her voicemail.

You look like you’re new in town. The slow, husky drawl penetrated the background din and distracted her from her task.

She looked up with a frown. The shadow from his cowboy hat obscured most of the man’s features, but a dimple winked in his cheek when he smiled. A black T-shirt stretched tight across his shoulders, and well-worn jeans hugged his lean hips.

She bit back a groan and disconnected the call. She wasn’t in the mood to be hit on by one of Gail’s nice cowboys, but she plastered a smile on her face. Not really. I’m visiting my cousin. She avoided his gaze and took a sip of her drink. The tart flavor slid over her taste buds.

He didn’t take the hint. Visiting is good. How long are you planning to stay around these parts?

I’m not really sure. She glanced out over the crowd. Where was Gail?

Well, hopefully you’ll be staying long enough for a dance or two.

Her startled gaze flew to his. What? She shook her head. I don’t think—

I’m Jake, by the way. Jake Hawkins. He held out his hand.

She eyed it but then reluctantly placed her hand in his. Amber.

His grip was firm, his palm slightly rough against hers. It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant sensation, but she freed herself after a brief shake.

Nice to meet you, Amber. Where are you visiting from? He leaned toward her and rested his elbows on the table. The woodsy, citrusy scent of his aftershave drifted to her.

She gritted her teeth. In a room crowded with hundreds of people, more than half of them female, why had he singled her out? But the manners her mother had instilled wouldn’t let her be rude. Chicago.

He whistled. Ah, the big city.

She inclined her head. You could say that. She glanced around again. She frowned at the sight of even more people descending the stairs to enter the sub-level barroom.

Looking for someone?

My cousin.

By some miracle, Gail appeared before the cowboy could say anything else.

Jake. A wide grin accompanied the words.

Hey, Gail.

Jake, this is my cousin Amber. Amber, Jake Hawkins.

We’ve already met. He flashed his dimpled smile.

Gail raised an eyebrow. She looked from one to the other.

Oh, well, great. Then she frowned and shot a pointed glare at Amber’s phone. Are you working?

Amber tucked the slim device back into her purse. No. But speaking of work, there’s no elevator.

What? Gail’s tone matched Cowboy Jake’s puzzled look.

This barroom isn’t handicapped accessible.

There’s a service elevator around back of those stairs over there coming down from the kitchen. Jake nodded across the room.

Well, that’s good.

Gail shook her head. Well, now that we have that settled. She turned to Jake. I was just thinking about you.

Oh really? A flirtatious undertone laced the words.

Amber refrained from rolling her eyes. Did women around here really go for his over-the-top good old boy charm? She sipped her drink and studiously ignored the conversation.

I’m trying to decide if I should bid on you or dinner from Zach.

That caught Amber’s attention. Bid on him?

It’s part of the auction. Zach, the head chef here, is giving away a personally prepared dinner, and Jake is giving away a date with himself, Gail explained. And I’m torn. Zach’s an amazing chef, but a date with Jake has its fair share of merits too.

You know it. He grinned

Amber shook her head. That’s weird.

What’s weird? Gail’s brow furrowed.

Bidding on people doesn’t seem weird to you? Barbaric was more like it.

Gail shrugged. Nope.

In the background, the music shifted to something softer, slower. People flowed off the dance floor. Those remaining paired off.

How about that dance?

It took Amber a moment to realize Jake had spoken to her. What?

He held out his hand as he straightened. Would you care to dance, ma’am?

I don’t thin—

She’d love to.

Amber whipped her head around and narrowed her eyes at Gail. Behind Jake’s back, her cousin flashed a thumbs-up.

Excellent. He removed his well-worn hat, placed it brim-side up on the table, and ran his fingers through his tousled, dark blond hair. He cupped her elbow and tugged her from her chair. With a warm hand on the small of her back, he guided her onto the dance floor.

There, he took her into his arms. One hand held hers, the other settled at her waist. She rested her free hand on his shoulder. In her heels she wasn’t much shorter than he was. The top of her head came only a couple of inches below his.

With subtle movements, he led her through a series of steps she easily followed. As a dance partner, he wasn’t all bad. He definitely knew his way around the floor. Still, she stood straight and kept a careful distance between them.

You’re completely out of your element, aren’t you?

Her gaze flew to his. No longer shadowed by his hat, his blue eyes stared back at her. For a long second, she lost her train of thought.

Then she shook herself free from the compelling depths of his gaze and shrugged. A little bit. Might as well be honest. What did it matter? She’d never see him again after tonight. That obvious, huh?

He grinned. A little bit.

So you come here a lot, I gather.

His lips quirked. You could say that. It’s kind of my home away from home.

So that’s how you know Gail?

Yeah, she comes in here all the time.

They danced in silence for a while. Another couple jostled them, and Jake drew her closer. His aftershave drifted to her once again. Her heart tripped faster but slowed when he released her back into the conventional dance position.

I’ve never dated Gail.

It took a moment to process the out-of-the-blue comment. What?

In case you were wondering. I’ve never dated your cousin.

Oh. Okay. What had prompted him to provide that unasked-for information?

I just thought you should know.

Okay, she said again. Well, thanks.

The song drew to a close. Around them couples separated or leaned in for a kiss. Jake stepped away from her and bowed slightly. Thanks for the dance.

You’re welcome.

He walked her back to the table.

She scooted up on her chair and avoided looking in Gail’s direction as her cousin tried to catch her eye.

Do you ladies mind if I join you?

Amber kicked Gail under the table, hoping she’d get the message.

Gail ignored her. Not at all. Pull up a chair. When Jake turned to grab one from a nearby table, she grinned at Amber.

Amber glared.

Once settled with his hat back on his head, he motioned for their waitress. Another round for the ladies, Tina.

Anything for you? She flashed him a coquettish smile.

Amber rolled her eyes.

The usual.

The waitress nodded before heading back toward the bar.

So, Jake, are you riding next weekend? Gail asked.

You bet. I almost have enough points to qualify for the national circuit. I need as many rides as possible.

Jake’s a bull rider, Gail explained, although Amber hadn’t asked.

Amber stared. You ride bulls? Her mouth went dry. She wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs. Isn’t that dangerous? Her voice cracked.

It can be.

Then why do you do it?

"It’s something I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a kid. Being able to do it is a