Wrangled (Spruce Texas, #4)

by Daryl Banner

“Maybe it didn’t mean much to you, Chad, but the way you and your friends treated me—humiliating me, taunting me, tormenting me all those years in high school—did a number on me. It hurt deeply. It made me angry. It made me cynical. It embittered my soul. It turned me against everything and anything that reminded me of small-town, small-minded, small-hearted assholes like you.”

Love isn’t some dramatic concept manufactured for romance novels. We all have access to it the same as we do the air we breathe.