A grumpy rancher. A city girl with a “witchy” streak. One storm, one bed, and a love spell neither of them meant to cast.
When Frankie Andrews crashes her rental car into a pumpkin display, she expects embarrassment, not rescue by a tall, broad-shouldered cowboy who looks like sin. Rhett Carson runs Brush Creek Ranch with quiet intensity and zero patience for city tourists, especially the kind who wear heels to a hayfield and talk about “healing energy.” But one thunderstorm, one stolen flannel, and one daring kiss later, he’s falling faster than the autumn rain.
She swears she’s only in town...
A grumpy rancher. A city girl with a “witchy” streak. One storm, one bed, and a love spell neither of them meant to cast.
When Frankie Andrews crashes her rental car into a pumpkin display, she expects embarrassment, not rescue by a tall, broad-shouldered cowboy who looks like sin. Rhett Carson runs Brush Creek Ranch with quiet intensity and zero patience for city tourists, especially the kind who wear heels to a hayfield and talk about “healing energy.” But one thunderstorm, one stolen flannel, and one daring kiss later, he’s falling faster than the autumn rain.
She swears she’s only in town for a weekend retreat. He swears he doesn’t do relationships. Fate has other plans. Halloween at Brush Creek Ranch is about to turn wicked in all the right ways.
