Dotted Line

Everyone thought I had it together. That I was tough and powerful and a take-no-prisoners woman at the top of my industry. And I was. At work. I always sealed the deal, nabbed the contract, and I never failed to get someone to sign on the dotted line. At work, I was the best. My personal life, however, was a wreck. A giant, lonely wreck. Until, Cole. Cole was about as far away from my city girl polish as one could get. A retired hockey player, he wore jeans to my power suits, cowboy boots to my heels, ate simple food to my gourmet. Hell, he even lived on a ranch half the year. And yet . . . he also challenged my mind. Never gave me an inch. Not to mention, he was gorgeous, kind, incredibly insightful and always, always, called me on my B.S. He’d done it when I’d been his agent, and continued to do it every time we talked. He was everything I’d dreamed of . . . and also, everything I was terrified to have.