Taming Alaska (So Not Prince Charming Book 1) Read Online Free

after her wedding to my dad. “Mamá, TMI.”
    She laughs again, and it sounds like the tinkling of bells. “I love how you and Willa speak Spanglish. It sounds so romantic, much like your father.”
    I love her laugh and kisses to my forehead. I always will.
    “It’s just that…” Her tone turns suddenly serious. “I think you’re set on finding some perfect man, and I don’t want you to be disappointed. I want you to marry a good man, like your father, like Shane, and that man may not come in some pretty little package, like the novels you read or the movies you watch. Money and a tailored suit won’t buy you happiness.”
    She must be referring to Shane’s homeless street corner attire. “Most divorces are over money.” I completely disagree with her, but there’s no sense spoiling our time together. I know a charismatic, sophisticated, gorgeous Prince Charming waits for me. Though I love Dad, I don’t want a man with dirt underneath his nails, and I will know Mr. Right the minute I meet him. In two more years, I’ll start Stews and date college men, no more childish, unfulfilling high school boys, but I’d let Shane deliver on his offer last night.
    Once we cross over into New Mexico, Mom finds a diner to stop at that brags of the best tamales in the Southwest. A beat-up red pickup similar to the one I saw earlier is parked in the lot, but Texas and New Mexico are full of old pickups.
    In my short, colorful skirt that Mom recently bought for me, I glide into the diner, inhaling the fragrant aromas. The diner is packed with locals, so the food must be good. After we take a corner booth, I finger through the menu and stare at the storm that has moved farther west of us.
    Mom and I order tamales and sopapillas. A few of the Mexicans stare at us because we’re so different. I don’t look like I belong to this beautiful woman.
    When two deputies wander into the diner, most of the locals lower their hats and scoot down in their chairs and a few leave. One man, his corn-colored hair stuffed under a trucker’s cap, slides so far down he almost slips under the table. Another man, his face hidden by his cap, smacks the blond to sit up straighter. One of the officers gives them the once over.
    After we eat and Mom pays our bill, we go to the car, and I notice the red pickup is gone.
    “Do you want me to drive?” she asks.
    “ Soy bueno .”
    “Honey, put up the top in case it rains.”
    The storm is miles away now, but I press the button to secure the top anyway.
    Mom studies Google Maps on her phone, and after another hour of driving, she points to an upcoming road. “Turn there. I’ve heard the claret cup and asters bloom near the mountains here.”
    I pull off the highway and drive onto the dirt road toward the mountains. When the desert field filled with wildflowers comes into view, the sight steals my breath away. “It’s beautiful.”
    “We’ve hit the mother lode of flowers.” She’s so excited she claps her hands. “Hurry, park, and get your shovel and gloves.”
    I pull off to the side, pocket the keys, and leave my phone in the center console next to Mom’s. From where we’ve parked, I can’t see the highway, so it’ll be hard for any park ranger to catch us taking wild flowers.
    With a few pots and my trowel in hand, I kneel beside her and dig carefully around several flowers. We’ve gathered a few when the distinct sound of a truck rumbles toward us.
    “We should go,” I say, staring nervously at the dust being kicked up by the truck in the distance.
    Mom helps fill the backseat and floor with the plants. She shades her eyes using one hand. “I don’t think it’s a park ranger. Let’s get in the car just in case.”
    We’ve got everything loaded up by the time the red pickup truck with no tags pulls up next to us. My heart leaps into my throat while Mom hops into the car, signaling me to hurry.
    I jump into the car, lock the doors, and fumble with the keys, dropping them