Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Brock moved toward the center of the street.
May noticed because Ophelia noticed.
Brock didn’t draw attention easily. He wasn’t flashy and didn’t posture. When he stepped into the open space between tables, people gradually quieted out of curiosity rather than command.
May frowned. “What’s he doing?”
Ace smirked, turning them to face Brock. “I think you’re about to find out.”
Brock cleared his throat once. “Can I have everyone’s attention for a second?”
The town hushed, which was no small feat.
Christian grinned, holding his bride close near the cake, which had already been cut. “You stealing my spotlight?”
“Shut up,” Brock said mildly.
Laughter rippled.
Brock turned to Ophelia. “You came here chasing a case, and you stayed for reasons that are obvious to anybody who’s seen me without my shirt.”
Ace groaned.
Ophelia chuckled, her blue eyes glimmering.
Brock smiled. “You don’t scare easy, and you don’t bend for anyone. Ophelia, you’ve made my life calmer and better in ways I didn’t see coming.”
May felt her own pulse pick up.
Brock reached into his jacket pocket. He dropped to one knee, still looking powerful in his tuxedo. “I don’t want you anywhere else,” he said. “Marry me.”
Ophelia’s eyes widened. She gulped. A light flush covered her cheekbones. “Brock.” Then she blinked. “Yes. I mean. Yes.”
Brock flipped open the box.
Ophelia dropped her gaze and gasped, looking at the ring. “Definitely yes,” she murmured.
May craned her neck to see. Wow. That was at least three carats.
Brock slid the ring onto her finger and stood, kissing her deeply.
The town exploded.
May laughed and snuggled into Ace’s side. “You knew,” she accused.
“Of course I knew. That’s my brother,” Ace said easily. “Don’t worry. I can be way more romantic than that. Just wait.”
Her abdomen rolled right over. “I love you, Ace Osprey.”
“I know.” He winked. “Love you, too.”
She settled in, finally finding her home with a man who wasn’t done chasing the sky. And she’d be right here, in little Knife’s Edge, every time he landed.
Make sure you catch up with the Osprey brothers in Damian’s story, Shadow of Fall.
For now, if you like the Knife’s Edge, AK stories, you might like to meet the Mavericks from Montana. Here’s a quick excerpt from Against the Wall :
The silence bordered on bizarre.
Shouldn’t there be crickets chirping? Birds squawking? Even the howl of a hungry wolf in the muted forest? Of course, such sounds would send a city girl like Sophie Smith barreling back through the trees to her rented Jeep Cherokee. The quiet peace had relaxed her into wandering far into the forested depths, but now the trees huddled closer together, looming in warning.
Enough of this crap. Time to head back to the car.
Her only warning was the crack of a stick under a powerful hoof, a thumping, and a shouted, “Look out!” A broad arm lifted her through the air. The arm banded solidly around her waist, and her rear slammed onto the back of a rushing horse. She yelped, straddling the animal and digging her hands into its mane. The image of the man attached to the arm flashed through her brain, while his rock-hard body warmed her from behind.
A cowboy.
Not a wannabe cowboy from a bar in the city. A real cowboy.
The image of thick black hair, hard-cut jaw, and Stetson hat burst through her shocked mind as muscled thighs gripped both the back of a massive stallion and her hips. The beast ran full bore over rough ground.
Only the sinewed forearm around her waist kept her from flying through the air.
This wasn’t happening. Sophie shut her mouth on a scream as the powerful animal gracefully leaped over a fallen log and her captor pulled her into his solid body. He moved as one with the animal. Her hands fisted the silky mane like it was a lifeline to reality.
Maybe it was.
Screw this. She threw back an elbow and twisted to the side, fear and anger finally galvanizing her into action.
“Stop.” A deep voice issued the command as warm breath brushed her cheekbone.
With a mere tightening of his thighs on the great animal, they skidded to a stop. The arm trapping her shifted so she slid easily to the ground and stayed around her waist until she regained her footing. With a sound that was more growl than gasp, she backed away from man and mount until she collapsed against the bark of a towering tree. The horse tossed his head and snorted at her retreat.
The man sat straight and tall on the animal, dark and curious eyes considering her.
The smell of wet moss surrounded her. She gulped in air and studied him. He was huge—and packed hard. Scuffed cowboy boots pressed down on the stirrups while a dark T-shirt outlined impressive muscles. Long lashes framed incredible eyes, and she could swear a dark eyebrow lifted in amusement.
Two more horses charged suddenly through the meadow, sliding to a swift stop behind her captor. One animal was a pretty white, the other a spotted paint, and both held powerful cowboys complete with boots, jeans, and Stetsons. All wore black hats—like the villains in every Western movie ever filmed.