She’s the city girl who refuses to be saddled with a man. He’s the cowboy who wants her anyway. From the author of the BookTok sensation The last thing Ada Hart needs is a man to take care of her. Not anymore. After failing out of her interior design program and the disaster that was her short-lived marriage, Ada clawed her way up from her rock bottom. Now, the only person she trusts is herself, and that has gotten her further than ever before. She has her own business, and one of the largest ranches in Wyoming just hired her for the most important project of her career. When Ada arrives in Meadowlark, she finds herself in a dive bar where she can’t seem to shake the eyes of a handsome cowboy. When she leads him to the back of the bar, he leaves her with a kiss that most people can only fantasize about. She almost regrets that she’ll never see him again…except it turns out he''s her new boss. Weston Ryder is a happy guy. Even happier now that the mystery woman from the bar is the interior designer for his dream project on his family''s ranch. He feels like he hit the jackpot. Too bad she wants absolutely nothing to do with him outside of work. Ada is convinced the pull she feels toward Wes will go away, but Wes can’t stop thinking about her. Even though walls are coming down around Rebel Blue, Ada’s walls are firmly in place. Can they make it through this project without giving in? Or will they both put their dreams on the line for a chance at love?

Autorentext

Lyla Sage lives in the Wild West with her loyal companion, a sweet, old, blind rescue pitbull. She writes romance that feels like her favorite things: sunshine and big blue skies. She is also the author of Done and Dusted. When she’s not writing, she’s reading.

Klappentext

NATIONAL BESTSELLER • She’s the city girl who refuses to be saddled with a man. He’s the cowboy who wants her anyway.
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From the author of the BookTok sensation Done and Dusted comes the next book in the Rebel Blue Ranch series, a small town romance featuring opposites attract and forced proximity.**

The last thing Ada Hart needs is a man to take care of her. Not anymore. After failing out of her interior design program and the disaster that was her short-lived marriage, Ada clawed her way up from her rock bottom. Now, the only person she trusts is herself, and that has gotten her further than ever before. She has her own business, and one of the largest ranches in Wyoming just hired her for the most important project of her career.

When Ada arrives in Meadowlark, she finds herself in a dive bar where she can’t seem to shake the eyes of a handsome cowboy. When she leads him to the back of the bar, he leaves her with a kiss that most people can only fantasize about. She almost regrets that she’ll never see him again . . . except it turns out he’s her new boss.

Weston Ryder is a happy guy. Even happier now that the mystery woman from the bar is the interior designer for his dream project on his family’s ranch. He feels like he hit the jackpot. It’s too bad she wants absolutely nothing to do with him outside of work. Ada is convinced the pull she feels toward Wes will go away, but Wes can’t stop thinking about her. Even though walls are coming down around Rebel Blue, Ada’s walls are firmly in place.

Can they make it through this project without giving in? Or will they both put their dreams on the line for a chance at love?

Leseprobe
**Chapter 1

Ada**

I ve come in contact with a lot of liars, but none quite so big as Google. I m not trying to discredit the search engine, but I am trying to bring attention to its most annoying inaccuracies. In this case, telling me that the dive bar I was sitting in ­only because it was the only establishment in the small town of Meadowlark, Wyoming, that was open past ten o clock on a Sunday night ­served food.

It did not.

Google s stupid bar-­graph busy-­meter also said that the Devil s Boot ­not sure if that s actually the name of the bar, considering that there s not a sign anywhere that indicates that ­wasn t busy.

It was.

Not insanely busy, but busy enough to at least get the moderately busy designation on Google.

There was also a very boisterous cabal of old men at the bar ­Google couldn t have told me that. But if there d been any pictures of this place on its business page, I probably could ve deduced that for myself.

And avoided the Devil s Boot altogether.

Stupid Google.

This place was exactly what I thought of whenever I pictured a small-­town dive bar. There was old-­school country playing on a jukebox and an excessive number of neon signs; it smelled like stale cigarettes, and there were spots on the floor that my Doc Martens stuck to when I walked.

I m not a snob. I ve got nothing against a good dive bar. I just didn t think I d end up sitting in one. Not today.

When I left San Francisco yesterday and started making my way to Wyoming, a dive bar would ve been the last place I wanted to be the night before I started the biggest job of my career.

But I was hungry, and the small but weirdly quaint motel I was staying in tonight didn t have the best Wi-Fi, so I left in search of sustenance and internet access, but I only found one of those two things. What kind of dive bar has no food but good Wi-Fi?

The kind with a very tall and very hot bartender who took pity on me when I asked about food and fished out a snack-­size bag of Doritos from behind the bar and gave them to me with my whiskey and Diet Coke. I didn t ask how old they were ­I didn t want to know ­but I had a pretty good idea, considering they were almost soft. They tasted like the bag had been open for a while, though it was still sealed when I got it.

After that, I settled for a high-­top table in the corner. On the wall behind it, there was a neon sign of a cowboy riding a beer bottle like a bull. The ridiculousness of it tugged at the corners of my mouth, and I liked that feeling.

Honestly, I didn t know if eating the Doritos that could probably qualify for a senior citizens discount was better than eating nothing, but here I was, eating them.

I dusted the nacho cheese dust off my fingers so it wouldn t dirty my iPad screen. I had pulled up the email threads between Weston Ryder and me, double-checking the time I was supposed to be at Rebel Blue Ranch tomorrow morning and making sure I had the map downloaded to my phone, just in case.

That was me, Ada Hart, nothing if not prepared.

I didn t know much about Rebel Blue ­just what Teddy had told me over the past few months. I knew Teddy from my first year of college. We went to the same school in Colorado ­at least for my first year. After that, I ended up transferring to be closer to home.

Going home was now a decision that I deeply regretted, because it had led to what would forever be known as the incident to me, but also known as my wedding to others.

I shook any thought of that and him out of my head.

After I left Denver, I stayed in touch with Teddy ­mostly