Praise for the novels of Maisey Yates
“[A] surefire winner not to be missed.”
—Publishers Weekly on Slow Burn Cowboy (starred review)
“This fast-paced, sensual novel will leave readers believing in the healing power of love.”
—Publishers Weekly on Down Home Cowboy
“Yates’ new Gold Valley series begins with a sassy, romantic and sexy story about two characters whose chemistry is off the charts.”
—RT Book Reviews on Smooth-Talking Cowboy (Top Pick)
“Multidimensional and genuine characters are the highlight of this alluring novel, and sensual love scenes complete it. Yates’s fans...will savor this delectable story.”
—Publishers Weekly on Unbroken Cowboy (starred review)
“Fast-paced and intensely emotional.... This is one of the most heartfelt installments in this series, and Yates’s fans will love it.”
—Publishers Weekly on Cowboy to the Core (starred review)
“Yates’s outstanding eighth Gold Valley contemporary...will delight newcomers and fans alike.... This charming and very sensual contemporary is a must for fans of passion.”
—Publishers Weekly on Cowboy Christmas Redemption (starred review)
Solid Gold Cowboy
Maisey Yates
To my Gold Valley readers, thank you for loving these books
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM CONFESSIONS FROM THE QUILTING CIRCLE BY MAISEY YATES
CHAPTER ONE
LAZ JENKINS WAS in the business of giving out advice. Okay, technically he owned a bar, and was in the business of selling booze. But that job came with a certain responsibility. He took the position of armchair psychologist very seriously. He had been part and parcel of more happy endings in Gold Valley, Oregon than he could even count at this point. He had wondered—often—if he should start some sort of matchmaking service. Though in fairness, he wasn’t the person who matched people up, he just told them when to quit being dumbasses and work it out with each other. His choose love speech was so well-worn, so tried-and-true, that he could freely mix it up whenever he wanted to.
But when the door to the bar opened after last call and he looked up to see the silhouette of a woman wearing a voluminous dress standing in the doorway, he had a feeling that there wasn’t going to be a choose love speech that would fit this moment.
“You’re closed, aren’t you?”
He would recognize the voice of his best friend anywhere. But his best friend was not supposed to be here today. She was supposed to be getting married. Technically, she was supposed to already be married, and off on her honeymoon with the pointless asshole that she called a fiancé, having that fabled, sparkling wedding night in a fancy hotel in San Francisco, like she had been so looking forward to.
Of course, she appeared to not be there. Something he might have picked up on sooner had he actually gone to the wedding earlier.
He hadn’t.
But he had hoped he wouldn’t have to have that conversation with Jordan so soon after. And he had sort of been hoping that after she’d gone on her honeymoon she might not really care. They’d been planning on going to Hawaii.
“Since when has it mattered to you if I’m closed?”
He pressed both hands on the bar and waited. And he thought back to that first time she’d walked in his bar.
“You’re closed? Aren’t you?”
“Yeah, last call was a full half hour ago, princess.” But he looked at what she was wearing—a light sweater and what looked like pajama pants and he was...well, concerned and curious. “Why don’t you come in and sit for a minute. I’ll make you a cup of hot tea.”
She stood there, just staring for a moment, as if she were stunned by the offer. Then she mobilized. Crossing the wide, empty room and making her way to the bar. “Oh you don’t have to do that.” Even as she sat down.
“I insist.”
He wasn’t about to send her off at two thirty in the morning looking that vulnerable. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to her.
She walked closer and he could see she looked familiar.
“I should have gotten dressed,” she said. “I have to be at work in like...an hour and a half. But I just live down the street.”
“Sugar Cup,” he said, suddenly putting her face into context. “You work at the coffeehouse.”
He didn’t recognize her without her guard up, that was the only way he could describe it. He’d gotten coffee from her a couple of times and she was...sullen. But not now. Now she just looked soft, vulnerable and a little sad.
“Yeah, so this bout of insomnia is getting intense.”
“Insomnia, huh?” He poured some hot water into a mug and added a tea bag—he only had one kind, this was a bar after all—and slid it toward her.
“Yeah, I’ve always had trouble sleeping but it’s gotten worse lately. Just...having trouble sleeping.”
“Sorry to hear it. I’m Laz, by the way.”
She blinked wide blue eyes at him. “I know. I’m Jordan.”
And that was the first of many, many times over the past decade that he and Jordan had shared a cup of tea in his bar at an ungodly hour. From that they’d built a friendship that he wouldn’t have known how to explain if asked. But fortunately, he wasn’t in the business of being asked about his life, nor was he in the business of explaining himself.
It was hard not to go around the bar. Hard not to put himself on the side of the bar she was on. But he didn’t. Because he wanted to know what the hell was happening.
“Haha...hahaha.” He looked at his friend whose shoulders were shaking with the force of her very fake laughter. “Funny story. I didn’t get married. Which, you would know, had you been at the wedding.”
“Looks like you might not have been at the wedding, Jordan. So why do you think I wasn’t?”
“You would have called me. And you didn’t. You haven’t talked to me for three days, actually, Laz.”
“Well. Was there anything to say?”
“Well, I don’t know. We are pretty close, aren’t we? I thought we
