He keeps his land fenced, his days ordered, and his past locked behind dog tags and a limp. Callie Beaumont shows up in a sun-beaten Civic, paint on her hands and hunger in her eyes, offering to walk his dog for rent money and, inconveniently, to upend the careful quiet he’s built.
Hunter Montgomery is a man stitched together from duty and silence—scarred in body, hard in habit, and ruled by rules that don’t include people. Callie is chaos with a sketchbook: reckless, brilliant, and exact...
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He keeps his land fenced, his days ordered, and his past locked behind dog tags and a limp. Callie Beaumont shows up in a sun-beaten Civic, paint on her hands and hunger in her eyes, offering to walk his dog for rent money and, inconveniently, to upend the careful quiet he’s built.
Hunter Montgomery is a man stitched together from duty and silence—scarred in body, hard in habit, and ruled by rules that don’t include people. Callie is chaos with a sketchbook: reckless, brilliant, and exactly the kind of trouble that makes him want to break his own rules. When she pushes past his borders—into the fields, into his kitchen, into the fragile places he thought he’d buried—what starts as a job becomes a slow, dangerous thing: art that forces him to feel, nights that thaw his armor, and a pull so fierce it alters the map of both their lives.
Possessive and achingly tender, this is a small-town, wounded-hero romance for anyone who likes their love stubborn, a little broken, and impossible to walk away from.
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