Romance Cowboy Novels & Stories

I answered the call. "Hello who is this?"I asked "My future wife,I just wanted to check on you.I can't wait to be your husband my love"He said and I knew who it was ,it was Kingston.I quickly hung up. This is not happening.I can't marry Kingston.I have to find a way to escape and I my eyes unconsciously averted to the window.No I will end up dead for sure,its way too high.I can say I don't want to marry him at the church tomorrow and we will not marry then.Or I can talk to Cassandra and convince her to take my place.Yes Cassandra is the best option.

She asked when he was done. Like she had done, he held the phone out for her to read it. Mi amor. She cocked a brow. "Spanish makes everything more romantic or so I was told." She laughed. "Don't forget to send it, Madeline." "I won't. I promise." Satisfied, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She recoiled, her eyes asking him what he was doing. "Friends kiss on the cheek." He threw in a wink for an added effect, turned and headed out.

he states with a gentle kiss on my cheek. As we embrace, he leans in and whispers, "It's almost as exhilarating as the idea of a leisurely horseback ride. Perhaps we should experience that together once we return home." I let out a small laugh and say, "You're on, cowboy." He leans in and whispers, "It's no hardship to be inside of you." I playfully hit his arm, "Shh, keep it down. We don't want anyone to hear.".” "Guess we'll just have to speak up. Can't have guys bugging you and girls bugging me, right?" *chuckles*

She raised her voice a little in annoyance. "Okay. Okay. Calm down, honey. Okay? I promise to end my relationship with him." "Be certain this time." She said. "You've told me that so many times." Gerald kissed her on the cheeks. "I promise, honey." "Okay." She kissed him on the lips. — @STEAKHOUSE "Cheers!" They all said it at the same time as they raised their own glasses and emptied their glasses of beer together, except Chase. Chase is not a fan of drinking, so he just tasted a little.

"An honour, Miss Elizabeth… Jack's the name… horse wrangling's the game." "This is my trusted foreman for the ranch, Jack. A real Aussie cowboy." My boss, Lord Markham, tells his daughter. He has only recently purchased the ranch, seeking new adventures away from jolly old England, and apparently, now his family has arrived. Her eyes run over me, in this kinda shy and demure way that only real ladies know how to do. Then her eyes meet mine, and a small smile breaks free from the restraints of her upbringing. "Oh, a real cowboy… how quaint."

"The clerk won't wait forever." "The court can wait five minutes Mrs. Jones," Richard murmured, his voice dropping an octave. He leaned across the table, his hand coming up to gently cradle my jaw. His thumb wiped away a stray bit of coffee condensation from my lip before closing the remaining distance to kiss me. It was a deep, quiet, and beautiful embrace, a silent confirmation of the covenant we had signed in the dark of the Big Sur coast, now fully realized in the brilliant glare of our shared reality. It tasted of coffee, promises kept, and a future entirely of our own making.

All at once. He saw a man buying a simple black mask at the counter. Rafael grabbed one too, put it on, and ordered a double whiskey. The liquid burned down his throat, but helped steady his nerves. He walked slowly toward the cowboy, who was leaning against the stage railing. When the cowboy stepped away for a moment to talk to the manager, Rafael approached discreetly. He stood close enough to hear. "One hundred thousand," the cowboy said. "For a whole night with the dancer. She does whatever I want. No mask. I want to see her face."

It took a special type to actually live that lifestyle, and the ones she knew were all back and had moved on to lives that they could live without much farming experience. A cowboy might be the perfect distraction to her. She could relate to them in a way the others couldn’t. They would also be the perfect protection from the men she worked with. She smiled to herself. A plan was coming together in her mind to counter the one some of the men around her were probably thinking about. While they wanted to ride her or her them on this trip, she wouldn’t mind a small distraction of a fling with one of the ranch hands. So if the men she worked with tried to mount her, she would ride a cowboy inste

There was definitely a trace of Harper around her cheekbones and in the generosity of her mouth. She had come from LA, accompanied by her boyfriend, Colt Dawson, a six-foot-something hunk of weathered manhood who had a ranch in Montana and worked with horses for Hollywood. They had apparently met on the set of Madame Bovary. Cole quickly gathered this information from frantic internet searches, hoping to find something to say to Colt as they sat together in the waiting room, giving Nik and Poppy some time to talk. Colt himself hadn't uttered a single word and sat in his chair with an eerie stillness usually associated with the deceased.

His hand felt warm, and I couldn’t stop myself from checking out our reflection in the nearest mirror. A warm glow flushed all over my face and neck. I was so wrong. We already looked like a couple. And he hadn’t even kissed me! “Good morning, sir! How may I help you? Would you like to book a room or just the activities? We have a rodeo event coming up. Would you be interested?” asked the cowgirl behind the desk. “Good morning! You have a lovely ranch here. We’re looking to book a room for the day. No, not the rodeo, but we would be interested in something relaxing.”