He's No Prince Charming Read Online Free PDF Page A

reaction to a hard-bodied male sporting a wicked bad-boy attitude. Of course, she had other, more pressing things on her mind lately, like her shrinking finances and her failed career, and she reminded herself she had to keep focused.

    After placing a steadying hand on her chest and the other on the banister, she made her way up the steps to the porch. Dakota paused, imagining some colorful potted plants, a couple of rocking chairs, and perhaps a grapevine wreath on the front door. She assured herself that with a little bit of sprucing up, the cabin could be clean and comfortable while providing the serenity she needed to compose her songs.

    Dakota smiled softly when she remembered that she had written her very first lyrics while sitting on this porch way back when she was still in pigtails. She used to wander around the property with a pen and tattered journal, writing poetry and often falling asleep in the oddest of places, frightening her poor mother half to death. While smiling at the memory, she suddenly longed to grab her guitar and start strumming away, but she needed to get the cabin in order first. With that in mind, she took a deep breath and turned back toward the entrance.

    “Time to get started,” she said with determination. But when the door opened with an eerie creak, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth and cautiously crept into the room, careful to avoid another cobweb incident. “Don’t even think about the mice,” she mumbled, and then of course thought about them. Having the lights on helped, but the musty smell of loneliness clung to the air. With a wince, Dakota hurried over and opened the windows in the living room, and then stood in the center of the cabin and took a good look around.

    “So much in my life has changed since the last time I was here,” she whispered, but then swallowed the sudden lump stuck in her throat when memories of past visits filtered into her brain like a slide show. She closed her eyes and could almost hear the soft tinkle of her mother ’s laughter and her father ’s booming voice. Although she had lived in a modest home in town with her parents, her father had spent a great deal of time up here at Pine Hollow Lake as a fishing guide, and as often as they could, she and her mother would join him. It had been one of her proudest moments when she had been able to purchase the marina and camp, saving it from being torn down and turned into a housing development with expensive lots overlooking the lake, unlike the small cabins that were tucked into the hillside, preserving the landscape.

    Dakota walked over and gazed out of the front window. A gentle breeze filtered through the screen, bringing the scents of pine, earth, and water. Inhaling deeply, she looked out over the pristine lake that served as a haven for the hardworking folks of Tall Rock and the surrounding farming community. Dakota was well aware of the fact that she could have sold the marina and kept her home in L.A., but as she soaked in the beauty of the blue water shimmering in the late-day sun, she smiled, knowing she had made the right decision.

    Her smile faded, though, when she reminded herself that she couldn’t continue to fund her father’s retirement and live off of revenue from the marina for much longer. Trace might think she was clueless, but she was well aware that gas prices and a slow economy were taking its toll on the profit margin. In fact, Dakota wondered just how he had managed to keep the marina in the black during these tough times. After a long sigh, Dakota turned away from the window.

    She knew she should start cleaning, but the lure of a long walk along the lake suddenly seemed too enticing to pass up, and so she decided to go outdoors for some fresh air while it was still light out. She located her now daisyless flip-flop, and then hastily turned her shirt around before stepping outside onto the porch. After skipping down the steps, Dakota lifted her face to the