Wild for You

by Daisy Prescott

  “If you want, take off early for your day off tomorrow. You don’t need to hang around here tonight.” I try to make amends for being a jerk.

  “Really?”

  “It’s good to get off the ranch every once in a while to remember there’s a big, wild world out there. Go camping or something. Hiking’s always a good idea.”

  “I was thinking of driving down valley and seeing some friends in Glenwood.”

  “Get out of here. Your friends will be happier to see you than I am. Go.”

  “Serious?” He finally gets the clue.

  “Do I joke about time off?” I’ve got a board of spoiled trustees to answer to. Gotta keep this place running as a well-oiled operation. Or have them vote me out and then sell the land for overpriced second homes. My goal is to make sure that never happens in my lifetime.

  “Thank you.”

  He can’t see my smile as he runs to his cabin. Sure, I’m gruff, but I don’t want the guys to hate me. No one wants a miserable work environment, including me.

  Showered, shaved, and dressed in fresh jeans, a black shirt with the sleeves rolled, and a pair of boots, I brush a hand over my short hair and make sure I don’t have toothpaste on my chin.

  With a deep exhale, I pick some imaginary lint from my chest. “Ready.”

  This is the Hick House, not prom.

  Then why are my palms damper than normal?

  I lock the cabin door behind me, jiggling the handle to make sure it’s closed. Not that I think anyone’s going to steal anything, but pranks are popular around the ranch.

  I don’t need to come home to shaving cream in my boots or cling wrap on the toilet. Both have happened to me before. There’s a fake snake in a kitchen drawer for when I need to seek my revenge.

  A wolf whistle greets me when I step down from the cabin’s porch. Tammy’s leaning out the screened door from the kitchen.

  “You keeping something from me, Garrison?” she yells. A huge grin splits her face.

  “Nothing you need to worry about.” My lips curve into a happy smile.

  “I know that look. You’re going to tell me all about this woman at breakfast tomorrow morning.” She leans back into the kitchen and says something over her shoulder I can’t hear. “If you are back for breakfast.”

  A couple of the ranch hands coming back from the barns slow their pace to catch the show.

  “I’ll be sure to make an official announcement.” I send an exaggerated glower in Tammy’s direction and jerk my head toward our audience.

  “Oh, please. We have a pool around here.” Her warm grin balances my sour expression.

  “For?” I stop walking and so do the guys.

  “When you’re going to get yourself a girlfriend.” Tammy sounds way too happy about this nightmare.

  “Who?”

  Her eyes drift up, like she’s counting in her head. “Pretty much everyone but you. Your grandmother called from Santa Fe to add her bet.”

  “Felecia Garrison doesn’t believe in gambling.” Crossing my arms, I glare at the young bucks, who are openly eavesdropping. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

  They resume walking. In opposite directions. Like cockroaches scattering when the light is turned on.

  “Maybe you should call your grandmother more often and you’d know. Nothing would make her happier than you falling in love, marrying, and giving her great-grandchildren.”

  “You’re kidding about all this, right?” I ask as I pace closer to Tammy.

  “Not even about the babies. Do you realize you’ve been snapping at the guys more than usual lately? I know you like to play the cranky loner, but you must’ve forgotten I’ve been around you for most of your life. I remember the sweet kid before you turned angry and cocky. I watched as you built that wall around yourself after Boyd died.”

  My spine goes iron straight at the thought of my father.

  “See? I mention him and you go on high alert.”

  “I don’t want to be him.”

  “Pretty sure you can’t wake up one morning as a narcissist. He was born that way. Nothing your grandmother did stopped the runaway train of his life. Doesn’t mean you’re on the same track.”

  “Son of the son,” I mumble.

  “Bullcrap. I’m too old to buy that load of manure. I’m not going to let you go through life thinking you have some curse on your head.”

  “You sound pretty confident in yourself, Tammy.”

  “Well, Justin,” she echoes me, “for one thing, you work your ass off keeping this ranch in the black. From what I saw, your dad was happy to suck it dry for his own selfish enjoyment.”

  She’s right.

  “Now if you stop acting like a prick, maybe a nice woman might give you more than a roll in the hay.”

  “Ouch.” I cringe at her harsh truth.

  “I married three of them, so that makes me a prick expert. You act the part, but deep down, you know it ain’t the real you.”

  “Wanting people to do their best isn’t a bad thing.”

  “Never is, but there’s different ways of going about pushing. Like a gentle nudge instead of shoving a guy’s head in the toilet.”

  “Hey now, that was a punk prank when I was sixteen.” I remember the incident when I first came here. “Got tired of being picked on for being from LA and needed to prove I belonged.”

  “Come here.” She gestures for me to step closer. Brushing her hands over my shoulders and pecs, her face grows serious. “This ranch is yours. We all know who runs the show. And we’re here to support you. Nothing more to prove.”

  Her words drop like stones in still water, rippling through me. “How’d you get so wise?”

  “Same way you did. Experience.” Her eyes crinkle when she looks up at me. “What’s her name?”

  A dog with a fresh bone, this one.

  “Come on, bring a little joy into an old woman’s life.”

  I scoff. “You’re not old.”

  She tucks her chin and waits with her hands on her hips.

  “Zoe. Her name is Zoe and she’s from Chicago, but lives here.”

  “And?” I swear her toe taps with impatience.

  “She’s special. Funny, beautiful, and being around her puts a smile on my face.”

  “Apparently, so does talking about her.” Tammy’s eyes reflect delight.

  Narrowing my eyes at her, I ask, “About this dating pool?”

  “I have you down for late July. If you want to help a girl out.”

  “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” I lean down and give her a quick peck on the cheek.

  “Save it for your Zoe.” She waves me off. “Have fun tonight!”

  The kitchen door slams behind her and I cringe at the sound.

  The Easy Z ranch staff is a bunch of nosy gossips. Obviously, they don’t have enough work to do if they have time to be filling out calendars about my social life.

  Something I’ll remind them of first thing tomorrow. Maybe I’ll ring that damn triangle and tell them all to mind their business. And threaten to put everyone on rotation for mucking out the stalls, goat pen, and chicken coop.

  Chapter 16

  Zoe

  One of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen is standing on the other side of this door. When the doorbell dinged, I crept close as quietly as I could to peer through the peephole. Drinking in every gorgeous detail of Justin without getting caught is equivalent to eating dessert before dinner.

  We all want to do it, but being polite, we resist the temptation.

  Justin’s one temptation I don’t want to resist.

  His dark shirt makes him look slightly dangerous. I make note of how long his fingers are as he sweeps them over his hair. It’s short enough there isn’t anything to run my fingers through, but I bet it would feel amazing brushing my skin. As he kissed his way south down my chest and stomach.

  Whoa.

  Waiting for me to answer the door, he turns his back and glances down th
e street. The movement allows me to get a gander of the caboose. His jeans fit his ass and strong thighs like they were custom cut for him. I wonder if cowboys use tailors.

  His broad shoulders stretch the fabric of his shirt when he crosses his arms.

  Justin is a patient man. He doesn’t press the doorbell multiple times. Instead, he leans a shoulder against the entry’s wall and crosses his ankles. Shifting his weight to one side, he’s a picture of self-assured calm.

  I wonder if I can snap a pic through the eyehole to send to Sage.

  He pulls out his phone and checks the screen. I stand on my toes, hoping to check out his screen saver. The image a man chooses for his screen tells a lot about what matters to him.

  Landon has a selfie of himself. Huge red flag.

  My phone in my hand chirps with a message.

  Loudly.

  Like a duck.

  Justin’s head turns slightly. He keeps typing.

  I fumble the phone when a second alert sounds. Right before I chuck it across the room, I notice the text preview.

  *Knock knock.*

  *You say who’s there.*

  Trying to stay silent, my laugh comes out a snort. There’s no way he didn’t hear that.

  I pull open the door. “Hi. Sorry. Have you been waiting long?”

  His eyes sweep down my simple black slip dress and bare legs to my lace-up sandals. The heel isn’t high, but it’s enough that it brings us closer in height. Being tall typically means flats for me so I don’t tower over everyone like a giraffe.

  When his focus returns to my face, the slow, sexy grin appears. I’m developing an addiction to seeing it. “Hi yourself.”

  “Want to come in? I need to find my phone and grab my bag.” I swing the door wider for him to pass me.

  He enters and stops a few feet away. “Nice place. Is your roommate home?”

  I forgot about the white lie I told him before.

  “No, it’s just me.” Not exactly clarification, but not really another fib. “And the dogs. But I put them in the bedroom so they wouldn’t maul you with their excitement.”

  “You have dogs?”

  “I’m dog sitting for some friends. Want to meet them?”

  He’s studying the room and doesn’t respond right away. “Sure.”

  “You don’t have to say yes.”

  He meets my eyes. “I’d love to.”

  “Okay, I’ll gather the hounds. You might want to have a seat. They’re less likely to bulldoze you if you’re sitting.” I give him a small smile.

  In the bedroom, I unlatch the doors on the crates while giving both dogs a little pep talk.

  “Don’t lick his face. Or sniff his crotch. No trying to hump his leg.”

  I could give myself the same speech.

  “Best behavior, you two.” I open the bedroom door and both dogs scramble past me down the hall like they’ve been fired out of a cannon.

  I jog after them, warning Justin, “Incoming!”

  I’m too late. As I round the corner near the kitchen, I hear his muffled moan.

  Both dogs are standing on the couch, flanking his sides. Nell licks his ear while Hunter is sniffing the top of Justin’s head. He’s hidden behind a wall of brown fur.

  “I’m so sorry.” I dash over to him. “Off. Down. Both of you. Listen. Sit.”

  My words have no impact.

  “Enough.” Justin’s laughter fills the room. Hunter sits down and Nell jumps off the couch.

  “How did you get them to listen?” I ask, finally able to see his face again.

  “With dogs and horses, it’s more about your tone than it is the words. They respect authority.”

  “No wonder they don’t listen to me.”

  Justin gives me a curious look.

  “I’ll get them back in their crate now.” Feeling a little embarrassed by the dogs, I click my tongue and say the one word they’ll pay attention to. “Cookie.”

  Suddenly they both have eyes only for me. Grabbing two cookies from the jar on the counter, I lead them to the bedroom.

  Upon returning to the living room, I notice Justin’s beautiful black shirt is now striped with thin strands of dog fur.

  “I’m so sorry. Let me grab a lint roller.”

  He stands and stares down at his shirt. “The one time I try to not be covered in horse hair. You should probably know I don’t really do fancy.”

  I locate the roller in the junk drawer and begin rolling it up and down his chest. And abs. Up and down. Slowly down and back up. I can feel the ridges and valleys of muscle beneath.

  “I think that spot’s good.” His hand on mine stills my movement.

  “Sorry,” I say, staring at his waist.

  “No worries. I can do it myself.”

  Of course he can.

  “I found your phone. It was buried behind some couch cushions.” He points at the coffee table.

  “Thanks. I’m always losing it.”

  “Ready?”

  I grab the jean jacket I left on the barstool next to my clutch. “Definitely. I’m starved.”

  He meets me at the door. “Mind if we walk? It’s a nice night.”

  “Sure.” Outside, we stroll down the narrow sidewalks past charming cottages and Victorian mansions from Aspen’s silver days. Even the tiniest house is worth millions in a billionaire’s playground. I wonder if the crazy money makes a guy like Justin uncomfortable like it does me. I know he wins cash prizes from the rodeos and manages the ranch, but there’s no way he could afford to live here.

  Another thing we have in common.

  With his hand on the curve of my lower back, Justin directs me to one of the patio tables outside the restaurant. The touch reminds me of when we danced together and the zings zoom through my body.

  We’re tucked in a corner. The umbrella is unnecessary for shade, but adds to the intimate feeling even though we’re sitting feet away from Aspen’s main street. Instead of sitting across from me, Justin sits to my left. Better for conversation and people watching.

  The tiny blonde hostess does a not-so-subtle double-take as she gives Justin a menu. She barely glances at me and I have to grab the menu from her hand. When she stands there for longer than necessary, Justin and I meet eyes. He tilts his head in her direction and raises his eyebrows.

  “We’re all set,” he says, keeping his tone friendly. “Unless you’re waiting for our drink orders.”

  “Oh, your waiter will take those.” She doesn’t move to leave.

  “Okay, well then.” He stares up at her with a broad smile. “I think we’re all set.”

  Still, she loiters by our table.

  I clear my throat, and her eyes drift to mine. Bizarrely, she mouths, “Oh em gee” to me.

  Now Justin and I both wear the same confused expression.

  A busboy steps around the hostess, setting down glasses of ice water.

  Justin scratches a spot behind his ear and chuckles softly. Maybe I should throw my water at her. Snap her out of her Justin-induced stupor. I hope she never goes to the rodeo. There’s no way she’d be able to handle him in chaps on the back of a horse. The hat might do her in at first sight.

  We passed awkward two minutes ago.

  A waiter joins our group, his smile fading as he notices the hostess statue.

  “Becks? You working my table tonight?” His voice is teasing and his smile good natured.

  Becks blinks a couple of times, returning to us from wherever she mentally traveled for the past few minutes. “Sorry. This is your server LJ.”

  “EJ.”

  A new level of awkward has been unlocked.

  EJ earns a big tip by keeping his friendly grin. “Sorry to interrupt. Did Becks take your drink order? Or can I get you something from the bar?”

  Three sets of eyes stare at Becks.

  “You look familiar.” She directs the comment to Justin.

  EJ’s eyes widen like she’s broken the unspoken code in Aspen: never acknowledge a clien
t or customer looks familiar for fear they might be famous.

  Last ski season I had a massage appointment I swear was a former child star of a super popular wizard franchise. He’d booked under another name, and even though I’m positive it was him, I had to call him Bob and pretend he wasn’t famous. Of course, some celebrities need the attention. And they’ll announce it upon arrival.

  Justin is rodeo famous, but he’s also a local.

  “Fan of the rodeo?” he asks.

  “Never been,” she replies, staring at him.

  “Must be the shaved hair.” He self-consciously brushes his hand over his head.

  “I’ll figure it out,” Becks says as she finally wanders back to the host stand.

  “Sorry about that. She’s new.” EJ drops two paper coasters on the table. “Drinks on me.”

  We both order beers from the draft list before EJ promptly leaves. From my seat, I watch him walk over to Becks and speak to her.

  “Well, that was …” Justin leaves the rest of the sentence blank for me to fill.

  “Awkward?”

  “Odd?”

  “Peculiar?”

  “Unexpected?”

  “Flattering?”

  “Uncomfortable?”

  EJ returns with our beers and asks if we’re ready to order.

  Neither of us has looked at the menu, but I get the same thing every time. “Can I get a Pig salad, with beef, no egg. Please.”

  “Salad?” Justin’s jaw drops. “At the best barbecue joint in the area?”

  “Calculated move. Based on the assumption you’re going to get ribs.”

  “You plan on stealing my meat?” A teasing smile plays at the corner of his mouth. “Pretty forward.”

  EJ remains quiet.

  Justin orders. “Combo two. Better make it a full rack if someone thinks I’m going to share.”

  EJ repeats our order, takes our ignored menus, and disappears.

  “Sorry if I overstepped. Guess I’m used to sharing.”

  “With your other dates?’

  Crap. I’ve waded into ex-boyfriend conversation.

  I laugh it off. “No, my best friend dates a rugby player. He always orders enough food for a squad. If we’re quick we can steal from his plate before he growls at us.”