Falling for the Cowboy

Never trust a man who wears nothing more than a cowboy hat and ripped jeans who asks if you’d like to save a horse and ride a . . . well, you get the picture. That should’ve been enough for me to walk away. I’ve been warned on several occasions about southern men—with their sexy accents, charming manners, and the ability to easily get any woman in bed—which is something I’ll be avoiding. Being a professional photographer has many perks—traveling around the world, calling all the shots, and working with subject matter that isn’t bad to look at—but Colton Langston with his washboard abs and baby blue eyes, could care less about my current project. He’s trouble, I know it, and he’s determined to make me work for every single photo. When I’m forced into riding lessons, I get way more than I ever bargained for, and by the time my trip is over, I’m in too deep. Being with him was thrilling, but falling for him was unpredictable. And ignoring him will be impossible.