Forbidden Ride: The Wild Wests, #4

By Adriana French

Single mom Jenny West can't remember the last time she had any time to herself. She adores her three kids and loves being their mom, but she sure wouldn't mind finding a man who'd make her feel like a woman again.

 

Boy, does she find him.

 

After her car hurtles down an embankment in a snowstorm, she couldn't imagine a sexier stranger to come to her rescue. And when the tall, built-for-lovin'-all-night cowboy throws Jenny over his shoulder and drags her back to his cabin, he heals her in ways she could never imagine.

 

It takes her a while to get over the fact that he's younger. But Jenny has another big surprise coming.

William is crazy about this beautiful woman. Now that he's found her, he doesn't want to let her go.

He sure isn't about to tell her his real last name. In fact, if her brothers find out who he really is, they just might run him out of town, or worse...

 

Saddle up, Sugar. There's a new cowboy-caveman in town! The mysterious William is an *A* type male to the nth degree. Panty melting, protective and possessive - all the loving you've come to expect from The Wild Wests, heartpounding insta-love, and a happy ending that will take your breath away.

Grab the reins, grab the book, and saddle up with Forbidden Ride.
Standalone Read. No Cheating. Toe Curling Happily Ever After Guaranteed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adriana French
• Release date: May 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201303914

Book preview

Forbidden Ride

The Wild Wests #4

Adriana French

Forbidden Ride Copyright © 2020 by Adriana French. 

This book is a work of fiction. You have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen.  No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored without express permission. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, or places, events or locations are purely coincidental.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Also by Adriana French

Join Adriana’s newsletter!

Grab the Hot A. F. news here!

Chapter One

I shiver, clutching the steering wheel. I’m in the thick of a snowstorm from hell. I’d hoped I left early enough to miss it, but no such luck. I’m only halfway up the grade. My SUV is straining like it’s on its last legs, as if it has to dig in and focus to reach the top of the mountain.

My stomach curdles with regret. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken this trip. Do I even have the right to take a little time to myself when I know my kids will miss me so much? I have three. The twins, Leo and Lara, are four, and my big boy, Jessie, is six.

I clasp the steering wheel tighter, narrowing my eyes on the hairpin turn, and try not to think about the cliff on my left. There isn’t a guardrail. One wrong move and I’ll be airborne, plunging to my death.

I haven’t been away in over a year, and even this trip took months of planning. It isn’t like Huck, my ex, helps out. He left me three years ago for a big-titted buckle bunny he met at our local bar, Boondocks. The two of them left town about a month after they hooked up. As far as Huck’s concerned, the kids and I don’t exist. It killed me at the time.

It still hurts, but I try not to dwell on how awful he treats us because I don’t want my bitter disappointment to rub off on the children.

Besides my own kids, I wrangle thirty of other people’s on a weekday basis. Don’t get me wrong, I love teaching third grade, but everyone deserves a break sometimes.

I check my rearview mirror and scare the crap out of myself when my haggard thirty-two-year-old face stares back. Yikes. Jenny West, you need some time away.

But who cares what I look like? I’m almost at the cabin, and I’m not planning on seeing anyone. This weekend is all about bubble baths, chick flicks, romance novels, and wine—doing whatever I want, eating and drinking whatever I choose, when I choose to do it.

The snow is really coming down now. I can barely see past the thick white sheets blanketing the road in front of me. I silently thank my brother Chase for insisting I let him check out my car before I left.

Everything’s in perfect working order and I have all new tires, so I should be okay. I haven’t passed another car for miles and sure wouldn’t want to get stranded up here. The sun went down thirty minutes ago, and there’s no light to speak of except for my headlights.

I turn into the bend and feel my tires slip over the ice. Shit. I straighten, white-knuckling the steering wheel. The snow pelts my windshield like I’ve hit a hive of fat bees and they’ve splattered all over my window. I can’t see a damn thing. I can’t hear my romance audiobook, so I shut off the stereo.

The windshield wipers are cranked to the max, swiping as fast as they can, but the snow is dumping faster. Banks of white surround me on either side. I peer through my windshield and squint at the blinding white glare.

I’m so discombobulated, I’m not sure I’ll even see the turn-off to my cabin.

I take a deep breath to calm myself as I steer into another hairpin curve. The tires slip again, and my stomach flips with doom. Maybe I’m going too fast. I tap the brakes and feel the car begin to slide as I navigate into another turn. The SUV picks up speed as it heads downhill.

I let out a sigh when I finally make out the bent metal sign for our family’s cabin up ahead. I’m so close now but moving too fast. I touch the brakes. The car makes a guttural whoop sound and hurls into a violent slide.

No, no, no, I mutter, hanging onto the wheel as tight as I can, trying to gain control. The slide turns into a tight spin. The vehicle lifts and pulls out from underneath me as if it has a mind of its own.

Shit! The snow crunches beneath the tires and hammers overhead. The steering wheel whips out from under my palms, turning sharply all by itself. My heart bangs against my chest. I can’t see where I’m going. No! I’m spinning and spinning and heading off the road.

Please, God, help me.

Something crashes against the passenger side. The force hurls me against my door, making me bash my shoulder against the frame. My foot’s off the pedal, and I quickly grab the steering wheel to control the vehicle.

Thank God. I seem to be slowing. The spin loosens, and I cling to the shred of hope that maybe I’ll come out of this in one piece. But then—fuck. The tires lift off the ice. My stomach drops. I’m airborne, and it’s quiet.

My heart jumps to my throat and I wait—for the fucking end of my life?

The tires touch down again with a massive crunch and a thundering boom that kicks me off my seat. The seat belt tightens over my ribs, constricting me so much that I’m sure something’s breaking, and I hurtle down an embankment. No, no, no! This can’t be happening!

Everything I brought with me—my purse, thermos, phone, chips, and snacks—goes whirling past me and crashes into the back of the SUV. I barrel past trees, shrubs, wood, and rocks, hearing them scrape and thump against the exterior.

Dear God, how is this going to end? Will I hit one of these trees head on? Smash into a boulder? Will the engine explode? What’s going to make this car sto—

Chapter Two

I stomp through the snow, collect the oak I just split, and hurl the logs onto my porch. This storm is expected to dump four feet over the next few days, and I’m going to be ready. I have food and enough fuel for the fire to last me at least a week. The last piece hits the deck with a thunk. But there’s another sound coming from somewhere, and it’s definitely man-made.

I listen closely. A gust of freezing air hits my face as the sound of crunching metal rushes through the night from the far end of my property. Christ. That’s the second accident this month. For whatever reason, my mountain seems to be the number-one attraction for drunken little shits. They come up here and party, making a joyride out of all those winding turns, the fucking idiots.

In this weather? Really? I wipe the snow off my face and bring up my hood. I zip my parka all the way up to my neck and grab my flashlight off the porch. The snow chomps under my heavy boots as I trudge through the packed powder in the direction of the sound.

If they were going to crash, I guess now is the time to do it. I won’t be here to save anyone much longer. I’m making a clean break at the end of the week.

My mother, Maeve Johnson, runs one of the biggest drug operations in the state, and my brothers help her. They’re all about to get caught and probably locked up for life. I’ve never had anything to do with the so-called family business, and I’ve had enough of people trying to take me down, assuming I play a role in any of my family’s crap.

I have a contractor’s gig lined up in Bozeman. I’m hoping it will put enough distance between me and my family. But as much as I’ve tried to disconnect myself in the past, my crazy mother always tries to pull me into whatever illegal mess she’s in. Who knows—after Bozeman, I might just leave Montana altogether.

Damn. When I see the headlights, I slow and blow out a breath of frosty air. I shine my lamp on a dark blue SUV. It looks like a Japanese make. Nissan? Toyota? It’s still upright, but it’s been through the wringer, with dents and scraped paint all over it.

It’s facing downhill, smashed into a thick shrub. Another ten feet and that car would’ve gone right over a fifty-foot cliff.

The wind roars around me as I slog through rocks and broken branches, making my way to the car. I shine my light on the back windows, then work my way to the front of the vehicle. Most of it is inaccessible. The shrub the car smashed into almost completely covers the hood. I angle around from the side, shining my light on the windshield, and inspect the driver’s side first and then the passenger side. I don’t see anyone, which isn’t a good sign. Someone could be passed out or