Together the two learn there are moments in life that hold within them all the power to break you...
Please continue reading for a sneak peek at Heather Hildenbrand’s novel, A Risk Worth Taking!
When 22-year-old Summer Stafford’s parents split halfway through her senior year at college, Summer’s world is rocked. Everything she thought she knew—heck, everything she thought she wanted for her own life—feels like a lie. The truth is love is a risk.
Reeling from the divorce, Summer derails her own future by giving up her lifelong plans for a big-city career. She moves back home, business degree in hand. Dad needs her to fill the gaps her mother left behind; Summer needs to find who she is outside of the cookie-cutter life that failed so miserably for her parents.
Ford O’Neal’s future involves one person: himself. He doesn’t have a permanent address and he definitely doesn’t commit. To a place or a person. Raised by hippies, he plans just far enough ahead to secure his next stop, this one landing him at a work-study program at Heritage Plantation where he can grow his own herbal and medicinal creations.
Summer is gorgeous and smart and fun to be with, the perfect way to pass five months. It won’t be love—Ford’s got too many things to accomplish, too many places to go, before he settles down. Yet Summer pulls him in, challenging him to rethink his own philosophy.
When Ford’s five months are up, each of them must decide if love is really worth the risk.
A Risk Worth Taking is a sexy & sweet coming-of-age novel with a taste of country & cowboy, perfect for New Adult and Adult Contemporary Romance readers.
Chapter One
Summer
Heat from the kitchen drifted through the hardwood, warming my feet and signaling me for dinner. I always knew when a meal was being cooked. This floor conducted heat like a metal rod in a thunderstorm. I gave up on unpacking the latest box of books onto an already full bookshelf and headed for the kitchen. The scent of hot food made my stomach rumble.
As I stepped through the doorway, my eyes fell on the empty seat at the far end of the table. The one right next to my dad’s usual spot. A sharp pang shot through my gut but I shook it off. I wouldn’t think of her now. Not with all the hustle and bustle and familiar faces waiting. I could think of it in the quietness of my bed tonight—and every night after if needed.
“Summer!” Mazie, our housekeeper, pushed past the others crowding the kitchen and hurried forward, holding her arms out. I stepped into the circle of her arms and inhaled the scent of garlic and dish soap that was Mazie Pagonis.
The older woman squeezed tight and then quickly pulled away with a frown. “You’ve lost weight, Paidi mou,” she said, her Greek accent faded after so many years on Virginia soil.
I smiled. Paidi mou, in Greek, meant ‘my child.’ It had been Mazie’s pet name for me since I was little. “I’m fine,” I assured her.
Mazie clucked her tongue, going on as if I hadn’t spoken. “You’re wasting away. Good thing I made pasta tonight. It will stick to your insides. Casey!”
Behind her, Casey, my best friend, jumped. “What?” he demanded.
“Carry the bread rolls to the table.” Casey moved toward the counter but Mazie stopped him with a reproachful look. “Wash your hands first.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Casey switched directions, heading for the sink.
“It smells delicious,” I told her.
“Good. I expect you to eat like it,” she said.
Mazie hurried away, rattling off instructions to the nearest body to help her with the heavy lifting. Pans and platters were lifted from the oven by willing arms, all belonging to hungry crew unlucky enough to have arrived early for the meal. Mazie didn’t believe in idle hands.
My dad came in and we all sat. Around a mouthful of garlic bread, I heard the screen door kick shut and shot Casey a curious look. He didn’t answer, opting instead for another forkful of casserole. The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. I watched as Casey’s gaze was drawn over my shoulder.
“Someone’s late to the party,” I said, turning in my chair. I expected to see another familiar face joining the group, someone I knew from past summers on the farm. I was surprised to find a stranger instead, though that wasn’t what had my eyes widening and my torso stuck in the swiveled position.
This guy was not the usual farmhand variety. At least, not the kind they grew in the foothills of southwestern Virginia. Definitely not from Grayson County.
He was tall and lean, muscular in all the right places if his fitted white shirt was any indication. His sandy brown hair was just long enough to fall onto his forehead, making his face look younger than the rest of him. But those eyes, blue and deep and full of knowledge—of what I didn’t know—were what held my attention. I bet they’re even better close up, I thought. He caught my gaze and held it for two beats before I realized I was obviously staring. I broke away, but not before the rest of the table noticed our exchange.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Casey and Joe share a look that had me wanting to reach over the table and knock the grin off both their faces. Heat rose to my cheeks, and I made a show of cutting my food, carefully placing it on my fork, and putting it in my mouth. The clink of my silverware echoed in the stretched silence.
I prayed my face wasn’t as red as it felt. Checking out a hot guy was one thing. Doing it in front of my dad and all his boys was quite another.
“Ford, ‘bout time. You better get a plate before it’s gone,” Casey said, breaking the silence. I sent him a grateful look from underneath my lowered lashes. He’d tease me for it later, but he wasn’t letting me suffer for it now. I owed him one.
“I’m on it.” The voice that responded was low and held just a hint of humor. I pretended it wasn’t on my account.
The newcomer, Ford, made his way toward the stack of empty plates on the counter, and conversation resumed, slowly at first but building quickly to the crescendo of noise it’d been before. I tried to see where the new guy planned to sit, uncomfortably aware of the empty chair next to me, but he went first to the sink and ran soap and water over his hands.
I took another bite. Chewed. Swallowed. Ignored Casey trying to wink at me.
“Look at that,” Mazie said, with a pointed look at my father. “Washing his hands without being asked. I want three more like him.”
Dad scowled but Ford laughed, a deep-in-the-belly sound that made it difficult not to turn and watch while you listened to it. “You better be careful what you wish for. I’ve been told it’s hard enough handling one of me.”
Mazie giggled. It made my brows raise. I’d never in my life heard Mazie giggle. I looked at Casey but he was forking casserole into his mouth and ignoring me. “You let me be the judge of that,” she said.
“Unless you want the job?” Casey whispered at me across the table, wiggling his eyebrows.
“I’ll tell everyone here how you got that rash last fall,” I hissed back. He shut up. Joe snorted and opened his mouth to say something but one look from Casey made him think better of it.
I went back to my dinner. Mazie appeared at my side, fussing at me to take a second helping. Despite my resistance, another spoonful of food was deposited onto my plate and Mazie walked off with a satisfied smile.
Casey shook his head. “You’re going to weigh three hundred pounds by the end of the year,” he said.