Rowdy Ranch
Book 3

He craves more than her friendship…

Equine vet Marsh McLintock and P.E. teacher Ella Bradley became BFFs as kids and vowed they'd never get involved in mushy stuff that would wreck everything. Ella's wedding day clinches the deal—friends forever, lovers never. Then Ella learns her fiancé's a lying cheat and cancels the wedding. Marsh knows his role—to comfort his devastated best friend and stand between her and the ex who wants her back. Too bad he just discovered he's madly in love with her.

As Ella's dream of a home and family come crashing down, Marsh keeps her spirits up and her ex at bay. He looks damn good doing it, too. Has he always been this ripped? Maybe inviting herself to stay at Rowdy Ranch to avoid her ex and recover her mojo wasn't such a good idea. Clearly her wedding disaster is messing with her mind and her hormones. How stupid would she be to give in to a momentary temptation and risk losing the best friend a girl ever had?

Excerpt

“Okay, Marsh. What’s going on with you?”
He scrambled for an answer. Clint had told him to pay attention to Ella’s behavior, and clearly she wasn’t overcome with desire. He was still good ol’ Marsh, her best friend who should be unmoved by seeing her in her underwear.
He cleared his throat. “I think…” There was the problem. He couldn’t think. The image of Ella standing beside her bed in the lamplight, wearing only a skimpy bra and panties, her hair tousled as if she’d been having wild sex— how was he supposed to be immune to that? “It’s been a stressful time.”
“I would agree with you.”
“Under normal circumstances, I’d look at you and see my best friend. But after all this drama, after imagining you married to that scumbag and potentially ending up pregnant with his child, I’m more aware of you as a… woman.”
“You didn’t see me that way before?” She sounded insulted.
“Of course, but in a general way.”
“General? I’m not sure I like that, either. I’m not some vague representation of a female human being.”
“I don’t mean it like that.” He was in the weeds. No way out around it. “I didn’t picture you having sex.”

Copyright 2001-2022 Vicki Lewis Thompson