Roping His Heart (Destined For Love: Mansions)

by Jaclyn Hardy

  Patrick walked outside with a grin on his face. “Hey, sorry I left early this morning. I needed to let the plumber in.”

  “It’s okay. I had to finish my chores anyway.” She sighed as he wrapped his arms around her. “I can’t believe this house looks like this in so little time.”

  “Yeah, well, you can make a lot of things happen for the right price. Want to see the sinks? They just got put in.”

  Rachel’s eyes widened. “Already?”

  “Yep. I guess the backorder came through faster than they expected.” Patrick took her hand.

  Rachel waved to a few of the workers as she passed. The floors and trim were done, but the polishing would happen closer to the grand opening. She stopped suddenly as they got to the kitchen. Stainless steel appliances and countertops gleamed from the reflection of the new lights that had been installed. She covered her mouth, overwhelmed by it all.

  “You like it?”

  “It’s amazing.” Rachel ran her hand along the counter as she walked to the sinks. They were deep, perfect for large amounts of dishes. The faucet matched the ornate fixtures throughout the house. “Where did you find these?”

  Patrick leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “It took a lot of digging, a lot of time spent on eBay, until I finally found the right brand.”

  “They’re perfect.” Rachel glanced at her watch. “Oh, we need to get to work. I have to be back to help with dinner.”

  “Right.” He pushed off the counter. “We’ll start in the front and head back. It’s been primed, so it’s just waiting for the paint.” He turned to her. “You’re sure you don’t want me to get someone to do it?”

  Rachel nodded. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”

  Patrick picked up a roller and handed it to her. “Then I’ll let you be the one to start.”

  “Thanks.” Rachel opened the first can of paint. The color was a light yellow that turned a little darker as she stirred it.

  “Did I pick the wrong color? I tried to match the walls with the original color the best I could. The guy at the paint store said this matched.”

  “It’s probably the closest we’ll get, but we won’t know until it’s done.” Rachel poured some into her drip pan and rolled it onto the wall.

  Patrick started on another wall. “Listen, about what I said on the Fourth—”

  Rachel froze. “It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not. I mean, I don’t take back what I said, because your voice is beautiful and it should be heard, but I didn’t know it would be so sensitive.”

  “You had no idea.” Rachel turned to face him. “I was hurt for way too long. Blake didn’t deserve the amount of pain I allowed myself to feel. It was more just . . . panic, I guess. Things were going so well, and those words—” Rachel stared down at her hands. “I just wasn’t expecting them to come from you.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  Rachel laughed and gestured to the mansion. “I’d say you more than made up for it.”

  Patrick set his roller down and pulled her into his arms. “I would give you the world. You know that, right?”

  Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck. “You already have.”

  Rachel escaped into the backyard after a long night of entertaining. The snow accented the glow of lights around the fairy gardens. She wanted to pinch herself to make sure this was really happening. It had been three months since they opened Cottonwood Creek Inn, and they’d been busy ever since.

  “I thought I’d find you here.” Patrick opened the small gate and walked inside. He laid a thick coat over her shoulders and sat next to her. “The last of the guests finally left. You put on a good party.”

  “That’s because I had good help. Your mother is an amazing party planner.” Rachel laid her head on his shoulder.

  He chuckled. “Yes, she is. We threw huge parties for Christmas every year. She was thrilled to death when I asked her if she wanted to help out.”

  “I’m glad you did.” Rachel stretched her legs out in front of her. “I’d better get back home so I can get some sleep. Six a.m. comes too early.”

  “What if you didn’t have to go home after a party like this? What if this was your home?” Patrick’s voice was quiet.

  Rachel sat up straight, eyes wide. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’d like you to be here with me. All the time.” He got down on one knee in the snow and pulled out a small box.

  Rachel gasped in delight as he opened it to reveal a diamond ring. Things had gone so fast over the last few months, but one thing was certain. This moment was absolutely perfect. And she wanted it to last forever.

  “Now that your dreams have come true, will you make one of my dreams come true? Rachel Poulton, will you marry me?”

  “Yes.” Rachel’s hand shook as Patrick put the ring on her finger. She wiped a tear from her eye and hugged him tightly. Her dreams had come true, and they were so much better than she could have possibly imagined.

  The End

  OTHER BOOKS IN THE DESTINED FOR LOVE: MANSIONS SERIES

  Kiss Me in the Rain - Cypress Grove Mansion, a treasured constant in Layla's perfect life, will be sold to the highest bidder if she doesn’t date an investor's son. The problem? The man she really wants just rolled into town.

  The Princess and the Pizza Man - Cupid is supposedly haunting Frostville Mansions, and skeptic Will heads to the place with the hope his sister will finally find the love she wants. But when he starts to fall for the fun and spunky owner, he wonders if there may be a love god living in the walls after all.

  Mending Fences - Two decades ago a little girl climbed a fence and found a friend. Now all she finds is trouble. Daniel Crawford has taken to chasing off intruders by any means possible. No one is going to cross the fence into his land. Or his heart.

  Love Me at Sunset - For Afonso, the remote Sunset Manor is the perfect place to start over as the new groundskeeper. But when suspicious accidents start at the property, will he be able to protect the young widow Catarina?

  Saving Sycamore Bay - Harrison Jackson has always been revered for his athleticism. When he’s asked to help a southern belle, a woman who looks past his stats and handsome face, he falls quickly, but she’s in too big of a mess to commit to anyone.

  Want to know more about the Destined for Love series?

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Jaclyn is an Idaho farm girl who grew up loving to read. She developed a love for writing at a young age and published her first book in 2013. She met her husband, Steve, at BYU, and they have six happy, crazy children who encourage her to keep writing. After owning a bookstore and running away to have adventures in Australia, they settled back down in their home in Utah. Jaclyn now spends her days herding her kids to various activities and trying to remember what she was supposed to do next. Her books include the Silver Script Series and the upcoming Roping His Heart and Never Say Necklace. When she's not writing romance, she's chasing kids, playing games, and dreaming of running away to Ireland.

  .

  MORE BOOKS BY JACLYN HARDY

  Silver Script Novels

  Ring of Truth

  A Christmas Worth Billions

  Fashioned for Love

  Change in Harmony

  Another Chance for Love

  Love in Return

  Waves of Hope

  Love on the Run

  Never Say Necklace

  SNEAK PEEK

  The most delicious scent in the world to Will Monroe was a fresh batch of Parmesan and butter covered breadsticks straight outta the oven. A grin spread across his bearded face as he pulled the tray out.

  “Wooo-eee, have I got a good one here!” he called out to the overflowing pizza shop. He was a bona fide baker with skills that had the entire town flocking his direction come ‘round five-thirty. He would put on a show for ‘em all, flipping that pizza dough high enough to cause sweet Miss Penelope to
put her delicate hand to her chest and hold her breath until it came back down. He’d always give her a genuine wink when he caught the thing and flumped it back onto the table, sending a cloud of flour up into the air. Her cheeks would get all red and adorable, something he’d lived for the moment she set foot in Alabama two months ago.

  He set the buttery breadsticks down and got settled up front, enjoying the applause he received when he grabbed a roll of dough.

  “A’right, y’all. You’ll get your show; hold on to your cattle.” He subtly perused the shop, looking for that heart-shaped face with ruby red lips and a sparkle in her green eyes. The jolt he got when he finally locked gazes with Penelope caused a stutter in his performance, and the pizza dough nearly slipped out of his hands.

  “Oh… oh…” he said, quickly chasing after it before it fell to the floor. He made a show of his miraculous save, holding the dough high in the air. The crowd cheered as if it was all part of the act.

  When he’d decided to buy the vacant shop a couple blocks from where he’d grown up, the whole town scoffed at the idea of a pizza place in the heart of fried chicken wing county. Will knew it was a darned risk, but he liked to fly by the seat of his pants and see where it took him. This decision had been a win in his pocket, and though he’d been encouraged by his momma to sell while it was still a winner, Will had no plans of ever leaving his roots.

  “Heya, Will! Put another slice of philly cheese on my tab, will ya?” Mayor Gibson called out from somewhere in the dining area. Will whistled—his way of acknowledging the request—before he tossed the dough into the air and had another two seconds of flirt with the sweetest gal in the entire county.

  Being one of the many local celebrity business owners, he’d had his fair share of romances, but none seemed to stick. Even still, Will set his sights on Penelope, painting many a picture in his head on how he’d finally ask her on a proper date. She seemed shy, and he didn’t want to scare her off with his noisy personality. He and his sister were teased mercilessly for being the loudest family in town. So loud that residents theorized that tourists only stopped in because they heard the laughter and hollers from miles away.

  Will had never paid it any mind in the past—his booming voice made things easier to communicate over distances—but since Miss Penelope’s lips were nearly always pressed together softly, as if she had a secret she would be willing to share if only he’d quiet down long enough to hear it, he’d taken his time on asking her out. He could only imagine the fresh coat of blush that would rise in her cheeks if his voice was too loud presenting the offer, and she’d feel obligated to say yes if any eyes turned to watch. No… he needed to ask her if they ever got a chance to be alone. If only she’d stay back some days instead of sneaking out through the crowd.

  Maybe I should learn how to whisper, he thought as he shared another playful glance with her. The dough in his hands swung and stuck, end on end, sending all his progress down the crapshoot.

  “Ooooh…” a few members of the crowd teased, and he pounded the dough to start over.

  “What’d you expect, y’all?” he called out. “Even the experts get distracted.”

  He sent a wink over to Penelope for emphasis, and her hand came up over her lips to cover what he hoped was a laugh.

  Yeah, on second thought, maybe he’d take the plunge and ask her out tonight. He’d hurry outta there, catch her before she got too far down the street, and ask her for some dinner and dancin’ that weekend. Maybe teach her how to toss dough. He could almost picture her cute flour-covered nose and bright red lips smiling up at him, the place dark and romantic after closing. Just the two of them and the heat from the oven and the obvious sparks between their shared glances.

  He nearly let out a holler in the middle of his performance; the fantasy was dang near tangible.

  The bell above his door rang, and his equally loud counterpart made herself known right away. “Excuse me, Mister Mayor, coming through. Arms are full here.”

  Will reluctantly tore his gaze from Penelope’s flushed neck to Maybelle, his partner in crime—and sister.

  She was wearing her signature southern belle dress, lavender with a white trim that extended out in a good three-foot diameter. Her long auburn hair was curled, held back at the nape of her neck as she bounced through the crowd as if it would part only for her—and to her credit, that did happen a lot. She carried a cheese and wine basket in the crook of her right arm and a magazine tucked against her body with the left. Will grinned and started on the sauce, knowing she would rip him away for one of her famous side-bars.

  “Bells, I know you want to talk,” he said when she stepped up to the counter, “but I got customers if y’all can’t see.”

  “Who said anything about wanting to talk?” she said with an indignant inward draw of her brow.

  “Your eyes tell all,” Will said, grabbing a fistful of olives and sprinkling them onto a pizza with flourish. “What can I do for ya?”

  She looked over her shoulder before turning back to Will. “Give me two minutes, William. Two is all I need. I’ll talk fast.”

  “William, eh? Must be serious,” he joked and slid the large olive and pepperoni into the oven.

  “Very serious.” She leaned in close, eyes as wide as the pizza in front of him. “Life or death.”

  He let out a long sigh. Bells had a flair for the dramatic, so he knew it wasn’t really that dire of a conversation, but it was important to her, so by proxy, it was important to him.

  “Head to my office.”

  She squealed her delight, the high-pitched sound causing a few patrons to jump, but most of the townsfolk were used to Bells’ antics. She hurried off, a victorious smile on her face and bounce in her step that only told Will that what she had to say wasn’t so life or death as much as it was something she was about to rope him into.

  He finished up the mayor’s order and excused himself as politely as he could. Jeremy could handle things while Bells dragged him off mid-dinner rush.

  The moment he stepped through the office door, Bells thrust a thick piece paper into his face.

  “You see this?” she asked.

  “Not really,” he joked, backing up so his eyes could focus. It was a packet, or brochure of some sort. His brows pinched together, and he took it from her hands. “What am I supposed to be lookin’ at?”

  “Frostville. It’s this week-long themed vacation with dances and fancy dinners and big rooms and horses and entertainment all held in this gorgeous town in Michigan.”

  “Michigan?” He quickly handed the pamphlet back, but Bells refused to take it, her hands too busy flailing about as she talked.

  “Don’t you shrug it off just ‘cause y’all can’t handle the snow. It’s less cold than you think, and it’s the place I’m going to fall in love.”

  “Bells…” He sighed, knowing now where the conversation was headed.

  “I hear the place is haunted, Will.”

  “You still sleep with the light on.”

  “Not haunted with scary ghosts.” She took a step forward, getting close like she was letting him in on a giant secret. With the serious look in her wide eyes, Will was sure he wouldn’t be disappointed with her explanation.

  “The spirit of Eros,” she said. “Cupid. There has been a romance success story every week since the place opened a year ago. And it’s my turn.”

  He took the slight pause she gave him to process. He wouldn’t get much quiet time to figure out what in the world she was talking about, but he also knew that it didn’t really matter. She hadn’t gotten to the crux of what she really wanted yet, so he prodded.

  “Aaaand, what’s this got to do with me?”

  She blinked, lifting her shoulders slightly and tilting her head. It was the look—the ace up her sleeve she’d used all her life to manipulate and twist men to her will. He wished he’d become immune to it, but unfortunately, he wasn’t. In fact, she hadn’t even needed to play that hand; he’d do just about any
thing she asked. Part of his duty as a friend, brother, and the only guy in her life.

  “I want you to go with me.”

  All right… almost anything for her.

  “You’re outta your dang mind,” he said with a laugh, tossing the pamphlet on the desk behind her. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like that.” Frostville, yeesh! He’d never set foot outta Alabama, and he was not going to dive headfirst into someplace that was gonna cause hypothermia.

  She hitched a hand on her hip—the second ace she played when she didn’t receive the answer she wanted. “Don’t you dare leave me to do this on my own. I’m the town spinster, William! I’m not coming back here without a man, and I need you to keep me from picking up just any ol’ bum from the street. I’m desperate enough that it may just happen.”

  “Bells—”

  “I am thirty-six years old, and I’m tired of all these southern men turning their necks in other directions just because of my reputation.”

  “You don’t have a—”

  “And you owe me one. You remember Mr. Dumpling’s lawn? I covered for you, and I’ll march straight over there and tell him you were the one who ran over his brand-new sprinkler system with your riding lawn mower, drunk as a skunk.”

  “Bells!” He grabbed her hands before she accidentally hurt herself—or him for that matter. “First off… I’m pretty sure ol’ Dumpling knows it was me, and if he didn’t, he sure as heck knows now.”

  His sister blushed and glanced toward the door. He figured she was more embarrassed by her acknowledgment of being the town’s old maid. He didn’t put much stock into that particular rumor, but he knew Bells wanted love, family, kids, and the more the town talked about how she didn’t have any of those things, the more it hurt.