Grumpy Cowboy: A Hot Single Dad, Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

by Max Monroe

  And what a bounty of them there must be, I can’t help but think to myself, gripping the steering wheel tighter and picturing the stark lines and shadows created by the cut of his muscles.

  I bite into my lip a little and hum. Lord Almighty, the way that man must look when he’s having sex with a woman whose presence he doesn’t resent…

  Maybe, if I’m lucky, I can get him to pick up an ax and swing it around before I leave, at least. You know, just to see what those muscles look like when put to use.

  Maybe I could even get a quick video to send to Carla and Taylor.

  They’d certainly enjoy the show.

  Ugh. Stop being a fucking pervert.

  I sigh heavily, before glancing back down at the map I’ve been following since my arrival, and then concentrate as hard as I can to ensure I don’t miss the cue to turn—a giant shrub on the left-hand side of the gravel road.

  I shake my head. Never, ever would I have believed I’d be where I am right now.

  Thankfully recognizing the foliage-style street sign, I turn down the drive for Cabin Three, kicking up a holy mother cloud of dust behind me as I hit the gas.

  The Jeep strains under my command, but at this point, if I break down, I can walk the rest of the way, and even a second of extra time spent waiting for the simple reward of solace feels like too much.

  I round the final curve at the old girl’s full speed, but when the path I’m expecting to be clear is anything but, with a Volvo station wagon backing its way up the small gravel driveway that leads to my cabin, I slam on the brakes and pray to Jesus this thing stops better than it goes.

  I close my eyes and cross my arms over my chest as though that’ll somehow protect me if I have some sort of reversing-backend-into-speeding-frontend-collision and wait for the impact to hit.

  When it doesn’t, I open my eyes to complete encapsulation by a cloud of dust.

  Holy hell. A rush of adrenaline dumps into my veins, and my heart responds accordingly, kicking into the kind of high gear this damn Jeep is utterly incapable of on inclines.

  And all I can do is sit there, staring straight through the windshield like a woman whose life just flashed before her eyes.

  Not even ten seconds later, the sounds of a door slamming shut followed by quick footsteps over gravel fill my ears, and it’s not long before the driver of my almost collision comes into view.

  “Oh my heavens!” she shouts as she jogs toward me. The instant she reaches the driver’s side door of the Jeep, she yanks the damn thing open with a harsh tug that makes her cowgirl boots slide over the gravel a bit. She rights herself quickly, though, filling the open space in my door, and then her hands are on my face, touching my cheeks tenderly as her eyes search for injuries. “Honey! Are you okay?”

  “I-I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I nod. “I might’ve seen the light for a second—possibly even briefly said hello to Jesus—but I’m fine.” My heart also seems to be doing its best impression of a drumline inside my chest, but now that I’ve seen the way the woman’s eyes have widened at my casual claim of seeing God’s actual son, I don’t expect it’s going to slow down anytime soon.

  Surprisingly—and thankfully—a small, amused laugh spills from her lips. “Well, anyone good enough for a visit from Christ himself is good in my book.” I almost snort as she continues, “Which means I like you already.” Then, she winks.

  I have no idea who she is or what she’s talking about, but I’m still busy finding my equilibrium.

  Obviously better at coping with the aftermath of a near-collision than I am, she releases her hands from my face and lets out a big exhale, stepping back just a touch.

  It’s only then that I notice just how lovely she really is. Her face is soft with wisdom, and her blond hair is laced with a little bit of salt and pepper that only makes her more stunning—and she wears her jeans and trim, western-style button-down like she knows exactly who she is and who she wants to be.

  I’m not one to dwell or flounder with self-doubt, but the kind of confidence and self-awareness she so obviously has seem like a distant goal for a woman my age, still trying to make a place for herself in this world.

  “I guess I scared you, huh, honey?” she asks, and I offer a simple nod.

  “Just a little bit. I-I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here.” I stumble some to explain. The only other explanation is that, after my pseudo-meeting-more-like-dismissal with Rhett, I was so excited to get back to the cabin—and possibly pack up to leave—that I was taking the final curve like Mario Andretti.

  “I was just stopping by to check on you and make sure my husband did a better job of giving you advice than he did of giving you a vehicle. When I got here and didn’t see you, I figured he’d managed to bugger up the both of ’em.”

  “Your husband?” I ask, and she smiles before shaking her head.

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I ran my mouth this long without introducin’ myself. I’m Jenny. Tex, the fool with the big smile and crappy loaner Jeep, is my husband, and Rhett’s my baby boy. Though, I have’ta admit, there’s not much baby left in him these days.”

  I snort. I’ll say. The man’s practically all hard muscle and independence. The day they make actual babies like that is the day a lot of moms walk off the job.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Jenny. I’m Leah.”

  “Trust me, I know who you are. Already heard a lot about ya.”

  I cringe, hoping her son didn’t manage to sneak in a phone call after I left his place. Surely his opinion of me wouldn’t have given the best impression. “I’m hoping what you’ve heard is good?”

  “Don’t be silly.” She waves a hand in the air. “I’m pretty sure Tex is already half in love with you himself. Thinks you’re a real hoot, and just between us girls, I’m guessin’ the pretty dress and heels don’t hurt either.”

  My eyes widen at the insinuation, and she laughs. “My Tex has a real sweet spot for us ladies. It’s the boys he has a harder time with.”

  I suck my lips into my mouth to keep from agreeing with her. I honestly don’t know enough about Tex to even pretend to agree with her. But if this were a courtroom, the way Tex’s son Rhett talked about him would probably be bagged, tagged, and labeled as Exhibit A.

  “Now, what do you say we head on into the cabin and enjoy some of the fresh muffins and lemonade I brought over?”

  Instantly, my stomach growls, and I remember just how long it’s been since I’ve had anything to eat. This morning, before the sun was even up and before I boarded my flight, I had a slice of turkey bacon and a bottle of water, and it’s now nearing late afternoon.

  Needless to say, I’m so hungry that Jenny could be a serial killer with a body in the trunk and I’d still take her up on her offer.

  I mean, I’d call the police. Just after I got the muffins.

  “I’d love that.”

  “Me too.” Her smile is sweeter than sugar. “Just leave this old POS here, and hop in the Volvo with me. We’ll pull up closer, and then I’ll get the snacks from my trunk.”

  I do as she suggests, hopping in the passenger side of her car to ride the 100 feet to the front of the cabin, and then follow her lead and climb out when she shuts off the engine. While she grabs the basket of goodies from her trunk, I climb the short flight of front steps to the porch, unlock the cabin door, and walk inside.

  It’s not long before we’re both sitting at the small kitchen table with Jenny’s freshly poured lemonade and blueberry muffins in front of us.

  I take a sip from the glass and a bite from the baked good and savor the refreshing, sweet flavors of homemade. I don’t even bother hiding my small moan of approval.

  “You like the muffins?”

  “More than like. I’m pretty sure I’m in love. If this muffin keeps it up, we might be engaged by the end of the day.”

  She giggles at that and takes a sip from her glass. “It’s no wonder Tex wa
s so tickled with you, Leah. You’re cute as a button.”

  I blush a bit, shrugging my shoulders at the unexpected compliment.

  “So, if you don’t mind me askin’, where were you before? I was worried you’d broken down somewhere.”

  “I went to your son’s house to…uh…introduce myself.” Which went horribly wrong and I’m pretty sure I really pissed him off, but no big deal.

  Her eyes stretch wide, and she shakes her head. “And I imagine that went really well, huh?” she asks, sarcasm laced heavily through her every word. Still, this is her son we’re talking about, and the last thing I want to do is get too comfortable bad-mouthing him to his mama.

  “Meeting your adorable granddaughter Joey was the highlight of my week,” I say honestly, omitting the rest for the sake of us both.

  Your son, on the other hand… Well, he wasn’t too thrilled. Or welcoming.

  Jenny purses and smacks her lips together. Clearly, she’s read between the lines just fine. “My Rhett can be like that. Especially when it’s over something his daddy arranged without his permission. And something this big?” She laughs a little and shakes her head. “Probably went over like a hooker teaching Bible school.”

  Her transparency takes me off guard, but also, it makes me feel as if I can tell her anything. Like, whatever I say right here at this kitchen table will stay between us.

  Maybe that’s naïve, but her soft voice and friendly smile and gentle eyes make Jenny Jameson’s presence feel like a big comforting blanket on a cold winter day.

  Her eyes hold no judgment and even less impatience.

  And that’s when it occurs to me that this conversation with her is probably my one and only chance to turn this situation around. And if I don’t give it to her straight, I might as well just give it up now. The complete, mostly unfiltered truth is the only shot I have left to avoid crawling back to Salt Lake City with my tail between my legs. Somehow, I don’t think Frank Kaminsky would welcome me back to my job at the Slammers with open arms after I fucked up a favor—and job—for one of his oldest and dearest friends within twenty-four hours of my arrival.

  “Honestly? Yeah.” A laugh jumps from my throat. “Rhett seemed about as excited to see me as I am to see my period while I’m wearing an all-white outfit. I mean, I think he was actually trying to keep in mind that I didn’t hire myself, but when he tried to call your husband to let off some of the steam in his pot, he didn’t answer. And then, well, the Jeep broke down and he had to fix it, so…”

  She tsks her tongue. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, that’s some introduction.”

  I nod. “Basically, it was just one big disaster after another.”

  Jenny sighs and rolls her eyes. “I swear, sometimes, my husband—and son—could really use a boot up their stubborn asses.”

  “I take it Rhett and his dad are kind of…at odds with each other occasionally?”

  “Occasionally?” Her eyes go comically wide. “These days, it’s a rare occurrence to see them getting along. Like oil and water, the two of ’em. They’re always battling. But it shouldn’t be a surprise, really. They’re cut from the same obstinate cloth, too much pride and ego and likeness between them to mesh well together. It’s like watching two big bulls banging horns.”

  She sighs and takes another sip of lemonade as a wave of realization washes over me. I glance down at my fingers and mindlessly run them along the well-worn, but obviously loved, dining table.

  This is a long-standing, ongoing battle between father and son that, quite frankly, I don’t have any business thinking I have the tools to solve. Neither I, nor my older brother Sam, have spoken to either one of our parents in years. They’re both raging alcoholics and put the “hell” in unhealthy relationship. Once we were out of the house and on our own, keeping our distance from them, unfortunately, became a requirement to live normal lives.

  Truthfully, I can’t even fathom what it’s like to have love and conflict mingled together like the Jameson men.

  Rhett really doesn’t want my help—even though, by the looks of the reckless shit he was doing without crutches, he really fucking needs it—and although Tex was insistent that I stick out the two months, he didn’t exactly fill me in on the kind of resistance I’d be up against.

  Trying to wrap my head around all this, navigate my way through it, feels like someone dropped me off in the middle of the woods without Wi-Fi or sustenance and told me to find my way back.

  I mean, am I in way over my head?

  It sure freaking feels like it…

  “No, don’t do that,” Jenny says, interrupting my thoughts, and I jerk my eyes back up to meet hers. “Don’t give up. Don’t sell yourself short because my son was being a hardheaded, most likely mannerless, moron. You’re the right woman for the job, I can tell.”

  “But…how did you… I didn’t say anything.”

  Jenny grins. “You didn’t have to, darlin’. You’ve got the urge to flee written all over your pretty face.”

  I swallow hard at being read so easily, and Jenny reaches out and covers my hand with her own on the table. “Listen, Leah, I know Rhett is…difficult.”

  Ha. Understatement.

  “And I know he’s stubborn,” she continues. “I know he’s set in his ways and doesn’t want help from anyone, but I also know he needs the chance to change both. Truthfully, this ranch needs him recovered. Tex is getting old and can’t always be doin’ all the things he used to do. He needs to retire soon, and the only way to do that is for Rhett to be healthy and ready to take it all over. And Rhett needs all that too, darlin’. He just hasn’t fully realized it yet.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “You need to stay and do the job you were hired to do,” she says, like it’s just that simple, patting my hand before pulling hers away.

  “I hear you, I really do, and I want to stay, but it’s going to be very hard to treat a patient who wants me gone. I can’t imagine chasing him around the ranch for the next two months is going to do anyone any good.”

  “Look at it this way. At least he’s only got one good leg. How fast can he really be?” she teases.

  Regardless of how stressful this feels, I can’t hold back a smile.

  “Jenny,” I murmur, and her grin turns serious again.

  “You agree to stay, and I swear I’ll do all I can to help you sort the rest. I know it’s more than you bargained for, but can you promise me you’ll at least hang around and try?”

  I think for a few seconds, but the truth is, there’s only one way to answer her question.

  “Of course. Yes.” Frankly, I really need this job to work out. Not only could I use the money, but I really don’t want to go back to Salt Lake City and have to tell my new boss that I had to give up on the big favor after a damn day.

  I mean, he definitely threw me to the fucking wolves on this one, but I want to take my career to the next level. I want to eventually be the primary team doctor for the Salt Lake City Slammers, and if I don’t succeed here, I can pretty much guarantee that’ll never happen.

  “Well, okay, then.” Hands to the table, Jenny stands to her feet. “Looks like I best be heading back home to get goin’ on dinner. You like chili and cornbread?”

  “Made by the baker of these muffins?” I ask rhetorically. “Uh, yeah.”

  “Perfect,” she says with a small smile. “Come down and eat dinner with us tonight. I’ll have it on the table around seven.”

  I nod. She winks.

  “Bring your appetite, okay? You’re gonna need to keep up your strength.”

  I raise my eyebrows at her words, but she just smiles.

  “Don’t you worry, honey. It’ll all work out just fine. Promise. My boy’s tough on the outside but sweet in the middle. You stay the course, and we’re all gonna be better for it.” She pulls her keys from her pocket and lays them on the table next to my hand. “I’m gonna take the Jeep and leave you my car. When you come tonight, I’ll make Tex switch it out fo
r somethin’ more reliable, okay?”

  I open my mouth to tell her I’m sure the Jeep will be fine, but she’s already shaking her head and heading for the door.

  And then she’s gone, leaving me sitting there, wondering how in the hell a simple two-month job on a ranch to help a fourteen-year-old boy heal from a knee injury turned into me going head-to-head with a thirtysomething, grumpy-as-hell cowboy with six-pack abs and a giant chip on his shoulder.

  What in the world have I gotten myself into?

  I can only hope it’s not more than I can handle.

  Rhett

  Heading to dinner at my parents’ house is the last thing I feel like doing after the bullshit my dad tossed my way today, but when Jenny Jameson puts her foot down and demands that you show up for dinner, you best be showin’ up at your mama’s kitchen table, ready to eat.

  I still haven’t had a chance to talk to ole Tex yet, but I figure I’ll keep my cool through the homemade meal and save the talking-to for afterward. Preferably, when it’s just the two of us and we’re far enough away from the house that my mama and Joey don’t have to overhear it.

  Joey bounces in her seat the entire drive from our cabin, the only one in this truck who’s actually looking forward to a family dinner.

  And the second I pull to a stop in front of my parents’ house, she is out of the passenger door and flying up the porch before I can even get my busted-up leg to move a fucking inch out of my seat.

  “Joey, slow down!” I yell out my open door as she almost rips the screen door off the hinges in her hurry to get to her grandma and grandpa.

  Two hands locked around the stiff, immovable brace, I groan and grimace as I rotate the damn thing out of the truck, prop myself against the opened driver’s side door, and ease myself from sitting to standing.

  Fuck this fucking leg. I’m so sick of everything taking five times as long as it normally does. Just showering to get ready to come tonight was an ordeal and a half, and I don’t even want to think about what my schedule for tomorrow’s going to look like.

  On a sigh, I start the process of limping toward my parents’ place.