I wasn't planning to get fake-engaged to a king. Cowboys and royals don't normally mix.
I wasn’t supposed to crash through an airport wall on a Christmas tree and land on a king.
Now the tabloids say I’m His Majesty’s fiancé. King Erik needs a fake relationship to stop the matchmakers. I need to stop thinking about his eyes.
Next thing I know, my son and I are flying to his Scandinavian kingdom for Christmas. Erik’s a widower and single dad like me, but he’s also royalty.
Still, when he looks at me under the mistletoe, this doesn’t feel fake anymore.
Cowboys and royals don’t mix. Right?
