A Texas Hero (Charming, Texas #10)

Chapter One

Her friends laughingly called February through September Zoey’s “Sweetheart Season.”

“No!” Zoey whined over the phone. “I do not need a bodyguard.”

“Don’t you tell me what you need,” her father said.

This was what she got for confiding in her father.

She liked it best when he kept his nose out of her love life, and she kept hers out of his.

But she’d visited him in Amarillo last month on his sprawling ranch and in a moment of weakness spilled the truth.

Once more, she’d dated a man more obsessed with her father, NFL Hall of Famer Patrick “Patch” Lambert, than her.

She’d had men want introductions to her father in the past, sure, but Scott had taken it to a whole other level.

Now her father had launched into uber-protective mode.

He’d hired bodyguards since she was a small child and the media was all over him, after he’d been traded from the Cowboys to the 49ers for a short time.

Everyone in her family had to have a bodyguard with them at all times, as Dallas Cowboy fans were incensed at his perceived lack of loyalty and he was worried for his family’s safety.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she told him now.

“I know you think I’m an old man, but I know what happens to young ladies. I watch the documentaries. Violence from an intimate partner is the number one cause of death in young women.”

Number one? That couldn’t be right. Besides, she hadn’t even been intimate with the man! It wasn’t her fault he was delusional. She didn’t want to give up her privacy just when she might meet someone new. On Sweetheart Day, hope always sprang eternal.

“Listen, I don’t have anything to worry about. He’ll get over me soon enough. I’m seriously not in any danger. Honestly, Daddy, I’m serious. I could take him.”

He snorted. “Sorry, baby girl, but all the stats back me up. You’re getting a bodyguard and that’s final. He’ll be there in a couple of days, so be nice to the man.”

When her father started spewing stats, she knew for sure it was too late.

“I’ll give you an out,” he said, and Zoey’s ears perked up. “Cancel your Sweetheart Day party and I’ll cancel the bodyguard.”

She’d cancel her annual event when South Texas got some natural autumn color, or when she could start a fire in her fireplace hearth without first having to turn on the air-conditioning. Which was to say never.

“I can’t cancel! We do it every year and Scott isn’t even invited.”

“Doesn’t mean he won’t show up. Well, you think about canceling this year and let me know. All I care about is your safety.”

Her father had to know he had Zoey dead to rights. She wouldn’t give up Sweetheart Day.

“But where’s he supposed to stay?”

“Give him the guest room in the other wing of the house.”

“In my house?”

How was she supposed to get a date to come to her party with a bodyguard breathing down her neck?

“That’s usually how this works. You remember the drill. Besides, you told me once that the house is too big for you…this is the perfect situation! Don’t worry, it’s just temporary. This year, you need the extra security because of Scott.” He hung up with a quick “Love you. Bye.”

Great. Zoey could look forward to an old man in a suit guarding her 24/7.

Probably questioning her fashion and life choices, too, just like her father did.

That ought to be fun. At times like these, she desperately missed her mother, who with her wit and courage would have talked Zoey’s father off the ledge.

She would have explained to him that Zoey, at five feet ten inches, could take care of herself.

“Conchita” Fernandez-Lambert, at five feet nothing, had ruled over their home when she had been alive, and Zoey’s six-foot-five father had kowtowed to her.

But she’d been gone four years now after a long battle with breast cancer.

Zoey missed her all the time, but never so much as in September.

For years, they were the only two people who celebrated September 14. Even her daddy thought it was dumb.

Zoey’s phone buzzed and there was yet another message from Scott, who still hadn’t bought himself the first clue:

Hey there beautiful, any chance you could meet me for drinks at the Salty Dog tonight? I’m starting to feel ignored.

Was he completely delusional? She had clearly told him, “No thanks, Scott… I don’t know you well enough to accept your marriage proposal but have a good day.

I think it’s best if we don’t see each other again.

” Scott told Zoey he thought he loved her during their second week of dating.

When Zoey told a man she loved him for the first time, it would be after an appropriate amount of time—say after several months of seeing each other, followed by introductions to her father. With Scott, she never got there.

After she broke up with him, he had continued to behave like nothing happened, sending emails and texts describing his increasing frustration that she’d “ghosted” him.

But her dad didn’t understand there was nothing even remotely dangerous about Scott.

He was simply desperate and sad, and Zoey felt bad for him.

She responded now:

No thanks. I’m super busy with work and the upcoming holidays.

Then she did what she should have done weeks ago, before her father hired her a bodyguard.

She blocked his number. Maybe that would work.

Life was tough with a big heart, and some people tended to ramrod right over her.

But the right man wouldn’t. She just had to find him.

He’d be at least as tall as her, handsome and preferably Italian.

She had a thing for Italians, especially those with sexy accents.

Around here, all she ever heard was a slow Southern drawl.

Incredibly sexy to many women, but mostly those who hadn’t grown up in Texas.

Moving to her back storage room in Glamtique, the boutique she’d owned for the past few years, Zoey grabbed a box from the top shelf.

It was marked, like all the others, with yellow, red and orange hearts and leaves.

At home, she’d already decorated, but some folks got a little funny about starting seasons too early.

And she had to face the fact that not everyone was in love with love.

She’d patiently waited until after September 1 to decorate the store, and the day had finally arrived.

The chime over her shop door rang and Zoey rushed to the front. Ever since wealthy ad executive Lauren Montez had started shopping there almost a year ago, her sales had gone up. Even Tippy, the town’s mayor, had been in last month for something to wear to the inaugural gala in November.

“Zoey, you here?”

The voice was that of her best friend, Twyla Cavell, who owned the bookstore, Once Upon a Bookshop.

Years ago, Zoey’s friends were other runway models but she was proud to say that most of her friends now were fellow business owners in their small town.

She and Twyla went way back. They’d met during Zoey’s first visit to Charming, when she’d stopped by the bookstore looking for the latest Harlequin romance novel.

They’d bonded over books, and later, the quest for true love.

Twyla was married to Noah now and had offered to help plan Zoey’s annual Sweetheart Day party this year.

Well, actually, she had begged. Zoey was a bit worried that Twyla didn’t take this event as seriously as she did, because no one did.

But it meant a lot to her to be able to help, so Zoey caved.

“I’ve got the invitations!” Twyla waved one in the air.

“You haven’t sent them yet?” Something had already gone wrong. “It’s September first!”

Twyla blinked. “This is just a formality. I sent a save-the-date out last month, remember?”

“Oh, right. Are they engraved?”

“From the same printer you use.” Twyla set them on the counter near the register. “What do you think?”

They were orange and yellow, decorated beautifully with gold foil edges. They were nice enough to be wedding invitations.

You are cordially invited to celebrate a night filled with love.

Saturday, September 14, 2026

Sweetheart Day

A Night of Romance

6pm–midnight

At the home of Zoey Lambert

RSVP

“Oh. They’re beautiful.” Zoey sighed.

“Yay!” Twyla jumped up and down.

Zoey had to smile at her friend’s enthusiasm. “I couldn’t have done any better myself.”

Christmas was Twyla’s favorite holiday, but she had come around to appreciating the fall. Zoey had convinced her the season just needed a little help. Now it wasn’t just about spiced pumpkin lattes and golden leaves, but also about love in its many forms.

Today, Twyla wore a gold-and-orange sweatshirt emblazoned with the punny saying, Fall I Want, and gold earrings in the shapes of leaves. She had officially come over to the autumn side. Zoey’s work was done.

“And don’t worry, I’m inviting a few singles, too.”

Zoey always did the same. No better place to meet “the one” than a Sweetheart Day celebration.

It was the kind of story you could tell your grandchildren.

Zoey wouldn’t be the only singleton. However, she wasn’t feeling particularly optimistic about meeting someone new.

Charming was a relatively small bedroom community along the Gulf Coast, not far from Galveston, Texas.

Zoey loved almost everything about the quaint town with its renovated lighthouse, boardwalk, jetties, bay and beaches.

She didn’t love that all the best men her age were already taken.

“Love your dress,” Twyla said, admiring the sleek gold-and-brown dress Zoey was wearing. “It must be rough to be so gorgeous you have to beat men off with a stick.”

When Zoey made a face, Twyla backpedaled.

“Oh, no. He’s not still bothering you, is he?”

“Nothing I can’t handle. Unfortunately, my father doesn’t believe me. He hired a bodyguard to watch me.”

Twyla gaped. “You’re kidding.”

“My father has never met a statistic he can’t use to his advantage.” Zoey grabbed Twyla’s hands. “The stupid bodyguard is moving into my house and might still be here on Sweetheart Day! What am I going to do with a bodyguard at my party?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.” Then, Twyla pointed at her as if she had the answer. “Maybe we can make him the official doorman.”

“Oh, yeah. That won’t look weird at all.” Zoey rolled her eyes.

“Well, maybe by Sweetheart Day Scott will have given up on you.”

But if he hadn’t given up by now, a couple of weeks probably wouldn’t make much of a difference.