Just friends.

That’s all Beckett Weaver and I have ever been.

Sure, he’s a hot cowboy who left Wall Street behind to take over his family’s ranch.

Yes, I’ve had a secret crush on him since we were seventeen.

And who wouldn’t appreciate those strong hands, that massive chest, and the way he fills out a pair of Levis? He makes a girl sweat just looking at him .

.

.

and I look.A lot.But I’m a single mom trying to move on with my life, and he’s running that ranch single-handedly while taking care of his elderly father.

We don’t even live in the same state.

I only returned to my hometown of Bellamy Creek to sell my late mother’s house, and he just invited me and my son to stay with him because he’s got a big heart.That’s not the only big thing he’s got--which I discover the night I finally sneak across the hall to his bedroom and shed my inhibitions right alongside my pajamas.

And once we give into each other, we can’t stop.The hayloft.

The bed of his truck.

The dock by the pond.

Nothing has ever felt so right, but his past has taught him not to believe in happily ever after, and every perfect night I spend in his arms brings us closer to goodbye.