Robin couldn’t find Shane in her rear-view mirror, and she couldn’t get the truck to go without pushing on the accelerator. So she put the vehicle in park, assuming the tires had met the cement, which should be far enough.
She leapt out of the truck, a maneuver she’d practiced dozens of times at home, parked in her backyard, before doing it in public. Before selling her house in Temple and buying the tiny house that she could take with her all over the state.
“Shane?”
A moan sounded from somewhere beyond the house, and her heart flipped over. “Shane?” She hurried now, her cowgirl boots slapping against the cement as she moved toward the sound of pain.
She found the handsome, blond cowboy on the ground, holding his nose. “Oh, holy brown cows,” she said. “Did I hit you?”
“I told you to
