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    Hometown Hero
    Hometown Hero
    Hometown Hero
    Ebook119 pages1 hour

    Hometown Hero

    By Dani Collins

    5/5

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    About this ebook

    Skye Wolcott planned to marry, have children, and live happy ever after in her hometown of Marietta, Montana. Then her marriage imploded in a cloud of scandal. Now she¹d be happy if people would just stop talking about her.

    Chase Goodwin worked hard to get away from Marietta, where poverty colored his past. Living his dream as a major league baseball player, he has no reason to return beyond helping his half-brother escape as successfully. The last thing Chase would consider is staying.

    Then he sees Skye Wolcott, a girl he always had a thing for in high school. They get off to a rough start, but are soon carrying on like high schoolers. Chase wants her to join his fast-paced, larger than life world, but Skye¹s a small town girl at heart. Can she convince him that Homecoming is more than a game, and he’s back where he belongs?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTule Publishing
    Release dateSep 27, 2014
    ISBN9781942240006
    Hometown Hero
    Author

    Dani Collins

    When Canadian Dani Collins found romance novels in high school she wondered how one trained for such an awesome job. She wrote for over two decades without publishing, but remained inspired by the romance message that if you hang in there you'll find a happy ending. In May of 2012, Harlequin Presents bought her manuscript in a two-book deal. She's since published more than forty books with Harlequin and is definitely living happily ever after.

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      Book preview

      Hometown Hero - Dani Collins

      Hometown Hero

      A Montana Born Homecoming Novella

      Dani Collins

      ––––––––

      H

      ometown Hero

      Copyright © 2014 Dani Collins

      The Tule Publishing Group, LLC

      ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

      No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      ISBN: 978-1-942240-00-6

      D

      edication

      This book simply must be dedicated to the amazing Megan Crane (aka Caitlin Crews) who has been an incredibly supportive friend since before we properly met.

      When I finally sold after a million years of trying, I quickly learned that my first book was not going to come out in North America. I was devastated and put out a call for ‘pictures in the wild.’ My first came in from Megan, who happened to be in the UK, bought it and sent me her photo, reading my book, along with a lovely note that she’d read it and loved it.

      About six months later, I met her at an RWA conference. I had pretty much dropped out of the RWA world in the previous decade, convinced by all my rejections that everyone in publishing hated me. I felt like The New Kid Who Doesn’t Know Where To Sit. Megan introduced herself and told me again that she liked my book. I was astonished that she remembered me or my book. I must have looked like a deer in headlights. I’m pretty sure she thinks that’s my signature look.

      Along with being incredibly savvy about the publishing business, she is funny and smart and introduced me to Jane and Tule. (And told me how to pronounce Tule. ‘Jane’ I figured out on my own.)

      So this book really wouldn’t exist without Megan (and Jane and the amazing team at Tule.) So a big hug of thanks to all of them, but particularly you, Ms. Crane. I’ve got your back should we ever venture into the dark alleys of the French Quarter again.

      Table of Contents

      Title Page

      Copyright Page

      Dedication

      Dear Reader

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      D

      ear Reader,

      What drew me in most about writing for the Montana Born series was the setting of Marietta.

      I live in BC, not Montana. I come from farm stock, not horse people, but small town is small town. It has its own mindset and I love it. You wait in the line at the grocery store because the person ahead of you has to chat with the cashier. (Sometimes that’s me!) When friends and family come to visit, they see me waving at people and ask, Who was that? I don’t know, I say. We just do that here. My sister came back from running out for milk one time and said excitedly, A stranger waved at me while I was out! See? It makes you feel good.

      So I knew that genuine love and connection to the town would be a cornerstone of my story. Skye Wolcott’s ancestors pioneered a ranch in the area. She’s the school secretary. She knows young and old alike in Marietta. It’s her home.

      Chase Goodwin suffers the other side of small town life. His father was the town drunk and everyone knew it. He worked his butt off to get out of town via a baseball scholarship and now plays in the big leagues. His worst nightmare is returning to Marietta.

      They always had a thing for each other, though. When Chase is forced back to town to help his younger brother, and he discovers Skye is recently divorced, they have a chance to see where things might have gone. But Chase can’t give up his career and Skye doesn’t want to leave Marietta. Where does that leave them?

      I hope you enjoy learning how they answer that question.

      C

      hapter One

      Chase Goodwin was in the one place he had never wanted to come back to, especially in September: Marietta Senior Secondary.

      At least he was in the gymnasium, the part of the school he could tolerate if he wasn’t on the field. Watching a basketball game would have been his preference, but it was a school dance complete with the kind of club music he hated. Not that he’d minded the dances so much ten years ago. The girls were as giddy and nubile as he remembered, but so young. They nearly leapt out of their skin to land on a boy. The boys were all limbs and pimples. Had he overflowed with that much fascination coupled with terror back then?

      It’s like watching kittens and puppies, he said to Max beside him, one time catcher to his pitch when it wasn’t football season. Max was a good four inches taller than his own six two and was twice as wide. He’d taken over Mr. Kelton’s job running the P.E. department and watched the poorly lit, gamboling teenagers like he was watching the progress of a game, ready to shout orders to pass.

      Max flashed a grin. You said you wanted to know what your brother was up to.

      No, what he’d said was, If you want some help with the teams, I’d love to keep busy while I keep an eye on my brother. Max had put in a good word for him with the new football coach, Mitch Holden. In exchange, Max had roped Chase into chaperone duty. So here he was, suckered into reffing body contact at a dance to raise money for the homecoming float.

      Another slender, ripening body swished across his field of vision. Don’t look, he reminded himself, but—hold the phone. He recognized that ass.

      Deep in the back of his brain, where a crew was supposed to be working to retrieve her name, every single cell dropped his tools to take a long drink of the female that had paused about ten feet away to talk to his old classmate, Chelsea Collier.

      The woman was a knockout, athletic and tight beneath a red plaid shirt knotted at her waist. Faded blue jeans hugged her firm round ass and were painted against long thighs before they disappeared into sassy red cowboy boots. Her shiny brown hair cut a precise line across her shoulder blades, held off her face by a headband like Alice in Wonderland’s—exactly the way she’d always worn it and it was still too innocent a look for a body like that.

      He couldn’t hear her over the music, but the way she leaned close to Chelsea and gestured gave an impression of animation and humor. From her profile, he could see pale, clear skin without so much as a freckle to mar it. Her cheek rounded and he glimpsed perfect teeth, braces gone. She smiled and nodded.

      Brown eyes, he recalled, even though he couldn’t see them. She had melty brown eyes like a baby animal. The kind that made you want to cuddle her to your chest so she wouldn’t get stepped on. She used to look at him like that when he came up to his locker and she was already at hers. She’d hide behind her door and watch him like she didn’t quite trust him.

      Maybe she’d known she made him hard.

      Skye Wolcott.

      God, he hadn’t thought about her in years. He’d made a concerted effort to forget everything about this town except to send money home and check in with his brother as often as possible. His reaction to Skye was as strong as he remembered, though. He tried to turn it off, exactly the way he had intentionally resisted the lure of her then. She’d been taken and so had he. She’d also been a lifer, obviously intending to die here in Marietta. He’d been determined to get a scholarship, preferably baseball, and leave. He’d set her on the out-of-bounds shelf and barely chucked her a Hey when he saw her.

      He was ready to talk now. Hey girl. Damn.

      You’re staring, dude, Max said, keeping his own eyes forward.

      That Skye Wolcott? he asked, pretending he wasn’t sure. Pretending that was the only reason he was asking. Pretending he wasn’t blindsided by old lust that threatened his well-developed, no distractions, determination.

      A blank pause before Max gave a jerky nod. Yeah. She goes by her married name, Mrs. Baynard. It took me a sec to remember that’s who she used to be.

      Married? Fuck.

      Oops. Where the hell had that come from?

      Wait, "Terry Baynard? She married him?" Dusty pieces of history fell together, reminding him of the other reason he’d held off pursuing her.

      Yeah. People are saying she turned him gay. Max rolled his eyes at the small-minded concept. "They’re divorced now. He moved to San Francisco, but she still uses his name. I don’t get how they’re still friends when he lied to her all that time and she

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