by Tessa Layne
Prairie Bliss
A Cowboys of the Flint Hills Novel
Tessa Layne
Contents
Prairie Bliss Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Tessa’s Newsletter
Also by Tessa Layne
Acknowledgments
Copyright © 2019 by Tessa Layne
Paperback Edition ISBN-13: 978-1-948526-17-3
EPUB Edition ISBN-13: 978-1-948526-16-6
Cover Art by Melissa Gill Designs
Published by Shady Layne Media
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, stored, or transmitted in any form or in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations included in critical articles and reviews. For information, please contact the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of copious amounts of wine, long walks, and the author’s overactive imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All’s fair in love and war…. Including dropping your pants
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When a special election is called after Prairie’s mayor has died, newcomer Jarrod O’Neill finds himself pitted against Prairie’s homegrown environmentalist Lexi Grace.
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Fresh off a stint from lobbying in Washington DC, Lexi returns to Prairie only to discover corporate interests and her biggest enemy threatening to develop the land she loves.
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As the dividing lines are drawn, Lexi and Jarrod discover the fireworks they experience in public lead to earth shattering explosions in the bedroom. And while they fight for Prairie’s future, will they be able to put their differences aside long enough to fight for their love?
Chapter One
Jarrod O’Neill pulled his rental car up to the back door of the hunting lodge where his sister Jamey and her husband Brodie Sinclaire lived and worked. He cut the engine and stepped out of the car into the crisp November air. The breeze that danced across the back of his neck held the promise of winter, yet the morning sun fought back with a kiss of warmth on his cheeks. A man could think out here, with nothing but the sounds of bird calls and wind rustling through the trees. No cars honking, no loud music, or voices shouting, just peace and quiet. They’d all thought Jamey was six kinds of crazy when she announced she was moving to Prairie, Kansas to run a hunting lodge, crazier still, when she fell in love with a rancher.
But he’d been the first of his brothers to jump on board with their relationship as soon as he’d seen the happiness radiating from her eyes. He and Jamey had always been close, and to see his baby sister so happy… well, it melted something in his cold, hard soul.
The back door clattered open, and he turned at the sound of Jamey’s laugh. “You gonna stand starin’ at the birds all day, or are you gonna come in and meet your niece?”
Jarrod caught her up in an embrace, spinning her once before setting her down. “Motherhood looks good on you,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Jamey beamed up at him. “I never knew I could be so happy. You should try it sometime.” She cuffed him on the shoulder.
“I’m perfectly happy with my life.” His life was fucking great. He’d made partner last year, the youngest in the history of the firm. He worked on some of the highest profile cases in the country, and he was named one of D.C.’s fifty most eligible bachelors. What wasn’t to love?
She made a choking noise. “You’re so full of crap. You work all. The. Damned. Time.”
Truth. But he played, too. “Hey, I play rugby.” Maybe not as much as he liked, but he made sure to run the Mall every day when the weather was good. And he took the occasional marathon sex weekend.
“You haven’t been to visit since our wedding,” she accused with another noise of disbelief.
“I’ve been busy.”
“So busy, you haven’t even been able to get home to see Mom and Pop?”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a smile. “I promised Ma I’d be home for Thanksgiving. And I’m here for Fiona’s baptism, aren’t I?”
“Only because I threatened to maim you if you didn’t,” she answered with a rueful laugh. “I miss you, Jare. And I, we want you to be a part of Fi’s life, not just some person who’s a picture, or a voice on the phone.”
“I promise I’ll do better. Once this trial is over, I’ll take some time off, come out and spend a few weeks.”
“A month?” she wheedled with a winsome smile. “Pretty please? We have internet. You could work remotely.”
Jarrod gave her a squeeze. “We’ll see. Now take me inside so I can meet my little niece.”
The scene, when Jamey led him through the kitchen and into the great room, stopped him short. In front of the large stone hearth, stood his brother-in-law, Brodie — a strapping cowboy — wearing a sling and singing an off-key lullaby about cows and farm animals. Jarrod opened his mouth to speak, but Jamey pinched him. “Don’t you dare,” she hissed. “If you say anything, I will tell Brodie about the time you wet yourself when we were kids because you stepped on a snake.”
His mouth twitched. He hated snakes with a holy passion that rivaled St. Patrick. And the snake incident was one best kept deep in the memory books, away from the light of day.
Jamey left him at the entryway and moved to join Brodie, wrapping her arm around his backside and going up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Something about the picture they made twisted deep inside Jarrod. A longing he’d pushed away out of habit since forever, but the tableau in front of him was not for him, charming though it might be. A knot pressed against his sternum, like he’d swallowed an ice-cube, or a chunk of meat that was too big. With effort, he cleared his throat. “All right, you lovebirds, how much longer are you going to keep me waiting?”
Brodie turned and flashed him an enormous grin. Fuck, he looked elated. The stress lines he’d come to associate with Brodie had vanished, replaced by lines of happy exhaustion. “Good to see you. Come see her, she’s perfect.” Brodie lifted the tiny little thing out of the sling and cradled her in his arm, placing a tender kiss on the mop of silky black hair that stuck out in all directions.
Jarrod crossed to join them, and awkwardly accepted the baby, allowing Brodie to place her in the crook of his arm. His heart stuttered, pounding erratically. “She’s so… tiny,” he murmured, barely able to breathe. Seriously. She probably weighed less than his rugby ball.
Jamey snorted. “She weighed nine pounds when she was born.”
“But I know what you mean,” Brodie chimed in. “I was afraid I’d drop her when the midwife put her in my arms. I’ve never held something so small that was alive.”
Jarrod flashed him a grateful smile. “Right? She’s lovely. She’s the perfect blend of you and Jamey. She’s got my sister’s mouth.”
“Just what I need,” Brodie said with a smirk and a sideways glance at his wife. “Two
mouthy women in my life.”
Jamey’s eyes lit. “You need all the mouthy women to keep you in line, Mr. Cowboy.”
“Barefoot and pregnant,” he replied with a broad grin. “That’s how I like you.” He backed away toward the hall, with a laugh. “Gotta go change.”
“It’s a good thing I know you’re teasing or you’d be sleepin’ in the barn tonight,” she called after him. She turned to Jarrod. “You okay sitting with Fi while we go get changed?”
“Sure.” Jarrod fought a wave of disappointment. He had to leave after the service tomorrow, and he’d hoped to spend the day catching up with Jamey and Brodie. “Where are you off to?”
“Dottie’s youngest is getting married. We’re heading over to Falcon Ridge early to help with food and set-up. But we’ll be back this evening, and then you and I can have a dark beer and the craic.”
He’d be more than ready for a long catch-up, but something niggled at him. “Wait. Dottie Grace?” Holy shit, was that Alexis’ family? There were probably dozens of Graces in Kansas. It couldn’t be. He’d teased her mercilessly early on about being from Kansas, but he’d never bothered to ask where she was actually from. And he’d forgotten until just now, that the town matriarch’s last name was Grace.
Jamey gave him an exasperated look. “Yes. The diner lady? My partner in the food truck? Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. Just… Does she have a daughter named Alexis?” His voice sounded strained to his ears.
Jamey’s eyes turned speculative, and her mouth pursed. “Dottie has four heart-stoppingly beautiful daughters…” Her voice trailed off.
Fuck. That was a vague description, but it fit the bill for Alexis Grace — Kansas. She was drop-dead gorgeous, and she carried herself like a goddamned queen. He raised a hand. “Don’t go getting any ideas.” Kansas — his special nickname for her since he’d first crossed paths with her years ago at a corporate mixer — also had a tongue like a razor, and working with her in any capacity drove him to the brink of insanity. It always had. She was a ball-buster in and out of the courtroom and there was no way he was mixing it up with Alexis Grace, no matter how many times his pulse raced when she glared at him from across the courtroom. “Why don’t I babysit? You and Brodie can have a day off.”
Jamey’s laugh filled the room. “You know fuck-all about babies, don’t you? Fi’s barely six weeks old. I have to nurse her around the clock. My boobs will explode if she doesn’t come with us.”
Jarrod winced. “TMI, sis. TMI.”
“Get used to it. Someday this is going to be you.”
“Uh-huh. No way. I’m happy to stay eccentric Uncle Jarrod.”
The calculating look returned to Jamey’s eyes. “Why don’t you come with us? No one’s going to mind. You know how Prairie weddings are. Everyone will be there.”
He did. Even Jamey and Brodie’s changed at the last minute, turning into a double wedding with Brodie’s brother, Ben and his wife, Hope. A rejection sat on the tip of his tongue, but then an idea popped into his head. A deliciously awful idea. If this really was Alexis’ family, how fun would it be to catch her off-guard and keep her off her game? It would be worth the headache he’d inevitably develop from her sharp wit, just to push her buttons and see her tap-dance. And more fun than casting about the hunting lodge by himself, with nothing but his laptop for company. “Okay. I’ll come. I have a suit in my car.”
“Pfft. No one wears suits. But if you insist, I’m sure it will help you with the ladies.”
“I don’t need help with the ladies, sis. I’m here only for Fiona.”
“We’ll see about that,” she said with a smirk over her shoulder as she sashayed down the hall, leaving him to stare in wonder at the tiny bundle of perfection sleeping in his arms.
Blake Sinclaire met him as he stepped out from where he’d parked the car behind the Grace’s barn. “Good to see you again, Jarrod. You here for long?”
He shook his head as he clasped Blake’s hand. “Just for the baptism tomorrow.”
“I know Jamey’s thrilled you’re here. She said to meet her in the kitchen for uncle duty.” Blake waved up at the old farm-house. “If the ladies kick you out, we’ll be on the porch with Scotch and cigars.”
“You know I only drink the Irish stuff.”
“Brodie brought Jamey’s bottle of 12-year Redbreast, we’ve got you covered,” Blake called after him as he made his way to the gracious porch that wrapped around the perimeter of the Grace house.
Nobody paid him any attention as he slipped inside and followed the sounds of ladies’ voices to the kitchen. “There you are,” Jamey said, cheeks pink. “I just changed her diaper, you can sit over there.” She waved to a chair in the corner, and lowered her voice. “Dottie’s… stressed,” she said, saying far more with her eyebrows than her words. “I need to take the lead or she’s gonna have a heart attack.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll hang in the corner and recite the Constitution to Fiona.”
But Jamey had already sailed across to the far side of the kitchen to instruct a group of women on how to place finger sandwiches.
Fiona’s eyes fluttered open and she stared up at him. Jarrod’s heart leaped to his throat. It was like she knew him. He drew a finger across her satin cheek. He’d never felt skin so smooth. “Well, hi there, sweet pea. I’m your Uncle J. Are you lookin’ for your mama? She’s over there doing what she does best — bossing people around.” He lowered his voice. “But don’t tell her I said that. She’s also the best chef I’ve ever met, and you’re lucky to—”
“Jarrod?”
He knew that voice, and the flashing hazel eyes and plump red mouth that went with it. And the lovely dark hair he fantasized about yanking from the confines of its low bun, and running his fingers through. The long legs made even more shapely by nude stilettos, and perfectly tailored suits in a rainbow of neutrals and power colors. Alexis Grace stood before him in the flesh.
His eyes jerked up, gaze tangling with hers, but he was utterly unprepared for the stampede of wildebeests that seeing her like this would unleash. She was, in a word, captivating. Soft. Sensuous. Hair hanging past her shoulders in long, loose waves, and held out of her face with a flower tucked behind an ear. He’d never seen her in anything but a suit. She always dressed for success, even at legal mixers, and it had served her well, landing her a place at a competing law firm in D.C.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed, looking over her shoulder as if being seen talking with him would get her in trouble.
He took his time perusing her figure. The dress she wore was the color of the first kiss of dawn, a pale, peachy pink that brought out the rose in her cheeks and highlighted her porcelain skin. But it was the way the dress clung to her curves that made his blood heat and a shock of awareness sizzle through him. This was a dress that begged to be slowly peeled away, exposing a creamy expanse of luscious curves that were meant to be caressed, worshipped. Jarrod’s mouth went dry as vision upon vision flashed through his brain.
For a long moment, he forgot his sole purpose in crashing the wedding was the hope that he could mess with Alexis. A slow smile crooked the corner of his mouth up as her cheeks darkened. “Hello, Kansas.”
His use of her nickname achieved the desired effect. She scowled, cheeks flaming brighter. “Don’t call me that,” she whispered harshly, eyes growing wide.
Jarrod bit back a chuckle. “Nice to see you, too, counselor.”
“Don’t call me that either.”
“I knew it.” He snapped his fingers pointing upward. “You prefer babe.” He swore she growled as her face screwed up and she directed a scathing glare his way. He fucking loved that glare.
“You. Are. Impossible,” she grumbled, spinning on a heel and hurrying out of the kitchen, dress swishing behind her.
He looked down at the baby gurgling in his arms. “Round one to Uncle Jarrod,” he said with a grin. Yep, this wedding would be just the kind of diversion he needed before he
ading back to D.C.
Chapter Two
Oooh the nerve of him, calling her babe. Lexi hurried from the kitchen, pulse racing like she’d just finished a brutal round of racquetball. What in the hell was he doing in Prairie, let alone at Caro’s wedding? “Obvious, Lex,” she muttered hurrying up the stairs in a feeble attempt to put as much distance between her nemesis and herself as possible.
Thanks to the gossip at her mother’s diner, she’d figured out a couple of years ago that Jamey Sinclaire was Jarrod’s sister. But since Lexi went out of her way to avoid Jarrod professionally as well as personally, she hadn’t given it a second thought. She wasn’t back in Prairie that often, anyway. But why did he have to look so delicious holding a newborn baby? The guy didn’t have a parental bone in his body. How could he when he was one-hundred-percent cocky arrogant lawyer?
But her racing heart didn’t seem to give a shit about that. She was pretty good at reading people, and she worked that repeatedly to her advantage in the courtroom. Jarrod’s face made it clear he wanted her for dinner. And dessert. And the thought of that sent fire racing through her to settle in a hot ache between her legs. This would not do. Not at all. She’d kept a lid on her attraction to him for years, she could do it in her family’s house. She barged into Carolina’s room. “Quick,” she gasped. “Lock the door.” She slammed it shut and sagged against it, turning the lock as three pairs of startled eyes turned her direction. “Ma’s going crazy down there,” she offered. It was a weak excuse, however true. Although it seemed like Jamey was managing her mother just fine. But the offer of help had died on her lips when she spied Hotshot Hunkypants in the corner with a baby.
