The Mostly Real McCoy (Apple Valley Love Stories #1)

by Julie Christianson

“Daisy!” A deep voice sounds behind me, and the girl startles. I turn and see a pair of sturdy work boots. The scuffed and rugged kind, like whoever wears them isn’t afraid to get dirty. As my gaze travels upward, I notice a pair of well-worn jeans settled above those boots. And the jeans are attached to a man. A very well-built man. Scrambling to my feet, I curse the long, stretchy skirt that makes moving my legs more difficult. I probably look like a baby giraffe. More specifically, a graceless baby giraffe. Then again, grace has never been my strong suit. One might say it’s among my weakest suits. In any case, once I’m standing, Mr. Well-Built towers over me by a good eight inches. This means he’s pretty tall, because at my last doctor’s appointment, I measured in at five foot six. There’s a small dent around his thick, dark hair where a hat would normally sit. The longish waves remind me of the beach at sunset. His eyes are sea-glass green. “Hey there,” I chirp at Mr. Well-Built. He stares at me like I might actually be a talking giraffe. Then he peers over my shoulder, which isn’t hard for him because, as I mentioned before, he’s tall.