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

by Max Monroe

  “Of course. And anything you need, just call me back, okay? Even if it’s just a question you think of that you’d rather not wait to have answered. I’ve got your mom’s phone on me, and I’ll keep it where I can feel it vibrate.”

  “Thanks, Leah.”

  As silence breaks out, and the sounds of the road and Rhett’s steady breathing become all I can hear, I consider mentioning the moment that was almost a kiss.

  A flash fantasy of his hands tangled back in my hair and his lips against mine hits me squarely in the chest and holds it, making a slow burn roll all the way down to the space between my legs.

  I bite hard into my lip to keep myself from moaning audibly, and I almost have to slap myself silly as Rhett’s voice comes back over the line.

  “Leah, you still there?”

  I swallow hard, praying my voice will come across as a fraction of normal. “Y-yes. I’m sorry.”

  “Okay, well…I guess I’m gonna concentrate on drivin’. And I’ll see ya when I get there.”

  “Of course,” I agree. “I’ll let you know if I get any other updates.”

  “Thanks, Leah.”

  “Safe travels, Rhett.”

  I pull the phone away from my ear as the line goes dead, and then out of pure reflex, pull it in tightly to my chest and think back to the kiss again.

  My mind races in a million different directions, but at the end of it all, I have but one, resolute thought.

  I want it—the missed opportunity.

  And for the first time since our almost kiss happened, I consider the possibility that it might not come back around again. The prospect of what that might leave me with is downright terrifying—unrequited love…or lust, at the very least.

  I mean, what will I do then? What if he decides it wasn’t a good idea after all?

  July 4th, Sunday

  Rhett

  The room is quiet other than the infrequent beeps of some machine, and the smell is chemical in nature.

  I know for a fact that taking a man straight from the middle of a two-thousand-acre ranch and setting him in the middle of a hospital is bound to make him feel like a fish out of water, but even if that weren’t the case, I don’t think I could ever feel comfortable here.

  Leah, though, as I saw in the hall when I left Joey with her to sleep, appears to have zero unease about the hospital. Her posture is relaxed, her eyes are calm and assured—this place that feels so foreign to me, to her, feels like a slice of home.

  I have to imagine, then, that upon arrival at Shaw Springs, maybe she felt a little bit like I do now—like the world around her was a strange and uncertain place and like everything she’s ever thought she knew to be true was maybe only true part of the time.

  I lean forward and rest my forehead on the side of my dad’s bed, clasping my hands in front of my face as he sleeps. I’ve been here for the last three hours, waiting for him to wake up and tell me you’ve got a hell of a lot of growin’ up to do. My mom has been in and out of the room, but for her, sitting around and waiting felt like giving in to what could have been.

  It’s funny how something like this makes you appreciate so much you never thought you could—things that, at one point, you outright hated.

  The meddling, the pressure, the tough love from my dad—all of it always felt like a burden I didn’t think I’d earned. But seeing him like this—seeing him helpless like he was last night—has completely recharacterized it all in my mind.

  He wasn’t demanding—he was demanding more from me because he could see the strengths I possessed.

  He wasn’t preaching to me—he was preaching for me, his hope to lift me up and give me the tools to succeed.

  He wasn’t trying to be in charge of my life—he was trying to get me to take charge of myself.

  “Rhett,” my old man says, his voice gravelly and weakened in a way I’ve sure as hell never heard.

  Quickly, I jerk my head off the bed and reach out to take his hand in mine. It’s the first time I’ve heard him speak since last night, and it only half sounds like him. He’s clearly been through the wringer and then some; his normally pinkened skin is pale and sunken, and his messy hair is going every which way without a hat.

  A sick twist grabs hold of my stomach as I read the truth plain as day in his eyes.

  If it weren’t for Leah being there—if it weren’t for getting lucky—he very well might not be here anymore.

  All the fights and arguments we’ve gotten into over the years feel like a lead weight on my shoulders. I don’t know that I’d go back and change the past if I were given a second chance if I didn’t know this feeling, but right now, feeling the way I do, I know I’ll think harder going forward.

  “Yeah, Daddy,” I say through a tight throat after forcing a swallow. Sometimes, to outsiders, the impulse of a grown man to call his father “Daddy” seems out of place. But I can say with the certainty of all thirty-six years of my life, that I wouldn’t be able to change it right now if I tried. On the outside, I’m a grown man with thick skin and a hard head. But on the inside, it’s been a long damn while since I’ve felt this much like a scared little boy.

  “Cheer up, boy, and stop lookin’ so sad, all right? I’m doin’ just fine, but watchin’ your heart break like it is for much longer, I think, might just turn that around.”

  “I’m…just…I’m sorry—”

  “Rhett, no. Don’t go doin’ that, okay? Ain’t no one sorrier than me for stickin’ my head in my ass so much.”

  “Daddy—”

  “I’ve gotta learn to take it out every once in a while. Look around and such.”

  “I haven’t exactly been seein’ things clearly, old man.”

  He chuckles then, coughing a little and grabbing at his chest at the movement. “Ow, fuckin’ hell,” he rasps. “Remind me not to fuckin’ laugh again for a while.”

  I smile.

  “Listen, you’re my DNA, and I’m pretty sure the Y chromosome of that shit is at least ninety percent stubborn mule. I’ve never taken any real offense to your attitude because I had the same goddamn one with my daddy.

  “That said, if you tell your mother I took the Lord’s name in vain just now, I promise you there’ll be hell to pay, you hear me?”

  I can’t help but laugh. The relief of seeing my dad be so much of himself is swift and potent.

  “I won’t tell, old man. I swear.”

  “Good man. I guarantee that wouldn’t be good for either one of us.”

  “I know.” I smile at him. “And I also want you to know that I’m gonna make a bigger effort to take what you say to heart when you’re tryin’ to give me advice, and to take Leah’s orders seriously, too. I realize now that you were just tryin’ to make sure I came out of this with a leg that functioned.”

  He wheezes then, shifting slightly in the bed before challenging, “Oh, come on now. Tell me that’s the only thing I’ve gotten you out of this.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Boy, don’t tell me you ain’t looked at that girl. Come on now. I’m an old man, but I ain’t blind. There’s a lot to that one between the body and the brain.”

  I shake my head, though not necessarily in denial. Obviously, after the way things transpired last night, there’s something more than just a working relationship between Leah and me.

  But the last place I want to have all of my emotional realizations over the matter is in a fucking hospital room at my stricken father’s bedside.

  “Why don’t we just table that discussion for a while,” I suggest, and again, he laughs and clutches his chest.

  “Uh-huh, that’s what I thought.”

  I roll my eyes but counteract the expression with a smile. He’s still frustrating, but man, I’m happy to be sitting here letting him give me shit.

  “Oh, honey, you’re awake!” my mom says with pure delight as she walks through the door and turns her plain walk into a jog.

  “Yeah, darlin’,” my dad says, turning his
eyes from me to the love of his life. When my mom makes it to his opposite bedside and leans down to touch her lips to his own, I know it’s my cue to give them some time to themselves.

  “I’ll be back in a little bit, Dad. Gonna check on Joey and maybe get her some food, okay?”

  Tex smiles at that and gives me a thumbs-up. “Hell yes. Feed my granddaughter, and then bring her in to see me. I wanna give her a hug and a kiss and let her know that I’m doin’ just fine.”

  “I will.”

  “She’s out in the hall with Leah,” my mom says helpfully. “Maybe you can feed both of them while you’re at it.”

  Just like Tex, there’s a hint in her words I won’t touch on for now.

  Instead, I bid both of my parents a salute and head for the hallway.

  Destination: two very important girls.

  July 4th, Sunday

  Leah

  Mindlessly, I stroke Joey’s soft hair as she sleeps in my lap. Her petite hands are tucked together under her cheek, and her breath comes out in steady, even waves.

  I have to pee like a racehorse, but I wouldn’t dare move from this spot for anything—not even the very real possibility of bladder damage.

  Something about her sweet cuddles is a soothing balm to the tattered edges of a long and restless night here at the hospital watching people I’ve come to care about struggle with the fear of a loved one’s health scare.

  In need of a distraction from the growing urgency in my abdomen, I pick up my abandoned phone from the seat of the chair next to me and tap the screen to wake it up. Several messages are stacked recklessly atop one another on the home screen, the result of weeks and weeks of being incommunicado with the world outside of Shaw Springs Ranch.

  There are several messages from my brother Sam, who is thankfully easygoing and smart enough not to freak out and call the police after not being able to get in touch with me while I’ve been on this job in the middle of nowhere. And an almost insanely lengthy chain from Carla and Taylor that they’ve had going since the last short exchange I started with them in the middle of a meadow.

  I hold the phone up in front of my face so it’ll unlock, open the message app which boasts an ungodly sixty-three unread messages, and scroll down to click on Sam’s contact first. After scrolling back up to the beginning of his new messages, I start reading.

  Sam: How goes it at your new home, home on the range? Tell me, is it really where the deer and the antelope play?

  I smile at his ridiculousness and scroll down.

  Sam: You know, I heard that too, sis. So glad to hear we’re on the same page.

  Sam: I really enjoy these meaningful chats with you. We should have them more often.

  Sam: WHAT? You want me to have your car? You’re giving it to me as a gift?! Seriously, Leah, that’s so generous of you.

  Sam: I don’t know if anyone’s ever mentioned this to you before…but you’re really too chatty. You should tone down the messages a bit, it’s getting overwhelming.

  Sam: Okay, but for real…you better text me as soon as your stupid phone works again. I want justification that I’m doing the right thing by not freaking out that you’re not answering me at ALL. And perhaps, also, a cookie. Thank you.

  I make a mental note to call my brother and set things right just as soon as I don’t have a sleeping girl in my lap and some time to myself. Sam’s such a positive force in my life, and honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without him.

  And if our roles were reversed, I’d be freaking the flip out like a lunatic by now.

  Scrolling up through the message app, I stop on the group message with Carla and Taylor and click it open to read through what they’ve had to say.

  It will probably be a lot less calm than Sam, but I can pretty much guarantee it’ll be just as colorful.

  Carla: You know, I’m not sure I’m loving the whole knock and dash you did on us the other day, Lee. I mean, you tell us all about some hot, disgruntled cowboy and get our hopes up for little western-outfitted babies, and then you just DISAPPEAR? That’s damn near criminal.

  Taylor: RIGHT? My sweat glands haven’t been the same since you dangled the hot guy carrot and took it away! I’m sweating right through my pajamas at night, dammit.

  Carla: To be fair, Tay, you’ve been having night sweats for longer than Lee’s been gone. Remember last summer when we went to Vegas and we woke up so wet I thought we both peed the bed?

  Taylor: CARLA. I thought we agreed never to speak of that again?

  Carla: We won’t. In a public forum. But everyone in this group message already knows about it, and you’re acting like Lee’s disappearing act has single-handedly turned you into a sweat hog.

  Taylor: FINE. It didn’t cause it, but it’s not helping, okay?

  Carla: Why don’t we focus back on the problem here…LEE AND HER REFUSAL TO SHARE INFORMATION

  Taylor: Rude.

  Carla: For real.

  I start to scroll down to a whole other set of messages from a couple days later, but Joey stirs in my lap and looks up at me with big, sweet eyes.

  I click the button on the side of my phone to shut off the screen and toss it back to the seat of the chair next to me.

  “Hi, sweetie. Did you get some good sleep?”

  She nods, rubbing at her eyes with the backs of her hands, and I sweep some of the loose strands of blond hair out of her face with soft fingers.

  “How about you and I go down to the cafeteria and grab some food?” I say, just as Rhett comes through the door of Tex’s room. His steps are swift, and he seems to be on a mission.

  Even his face is serious and determined, and Joey must sense it because she jumps up and off my lap and stands to the side. I shake in my spot on the small chair, willing my body to burrow itself back through the thick hospital wall and into another dimension where Rhett isn’t looking at me like that and I’m guaranteed to feel no bodily harm.

  I don’t know what he’s thinking, and I sure as hell can’t tell what he’s feeling, because just like always, he’s a mystery.

  “Stand up,” he orders suddenly, his voice rough and commanding and brutal.

  I do as he asks, not even by choice but my sheer involuntary compliance, and between one breath and the next, everything in my world changes.

  Rhett pulls me into a hug.

  But not just any hug. It’s bone-crushing, body-squeezing—earth-shattering.

  I feel like his heart is laid out and bare, and if only I would let him, he would move it to the inside of my chest right next to my own.

  He’s tall and strong and warm, and by God, he feels better than any human I’ve ever been in this close of contact with. I never imagined that someone who smelled like leather and horses would be the kind of person I sought out for peace and comfort, but I’ll be damned if being wrapped up in Rhett Jameson’s arms doesn’t feel like a whole new level of home.

  Of comfort.

  Of unexpected happiness.

  His lips whisper softly into the veil of my hair at my ear, and a shiver runs unchecked down my spine and out the ends of my toes. “Thank you,” he rasps, the weight of those two words enough to make it feel like my feet sink right into the hard tile floor.

  I nod right there, in the tight envelope of his hold, against the column of his corded throat and do my best to hedge the sting in my nose enough to prevent it from turning into tears. “You’re welcome. I mean, of course. I’m just glad I was able to help.”

  His hold doesn’t relent, and frankly, neither does mine. I can’t do anything but push the surface of my body closer to his, mindlessly desperate to achieve complete and total contact.

  I have to be closer—I need to be.

  “You didn’t just help,” he tells me roughly, moving our heads so that his lips are the ones at my throat now. “Leah, you saved his life, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to properly thank you.”

  I squeeze him harder, clutching my arms around his back.

  “You
don’t have to, okay? You’re doing it right now.”

  After a heavy, warm, shiver-inducing sigh against my throat, unfortunately, he pulls back and puts far too much distance—a foot or so—between us. I feel cold and empty and downright terrified of the reason for both, so in an attempt to cover up my spiraling emotions, I take a dive into an awkward attempt at humor.

  “Though, I suppose, if you really want to thank me, you could take Joey and me down to the cafeteria for some food.” I turn to Joey and whisper conspiratorially. “After doing my residency here, I happen to know they’ve got a killer piece of chocolate cake with our names on it.”

  “Yeah!” Joey agrees loudly with a thumbs-up. “Can we go, Daddy? Can we?”

  Rhett smiles. “I was already plannin’ on it, but even I’ll admit, the promise of chocolate cake sealed the deal.”

  As soon as the words leave his mouth, an objective comes to mind and develops its very own rabid dog of influence.

  Before we leave Salt Lake City, in a couple of days when we know everything with Tex is truly good, I’m going to get Rhett and Joey out of this hospital and show them just a little tiny sliver of my life.

  It’ll do them good to get out and get the fresh air, and it’ll do me some good to see my brother.

  Resolute, I grab my phone with the objective to text Sam back while we eat and set up a plan, and with the other hand, grab the tiny counterpart of Joey’s that she’s got reached up and waiting.

  And now…chocolate cake, Joey, and Rhett. I’m not sure it gets much better. Though, I have to admit, a stop by the bathroom won’t hurt.

  July 7th, Wednesday

  Rhett

  Leah looks absolutely stunning in high heels and a yellow-and-pink sundress that buttons all the way down the front. She walks across the parking lot toward Joey and me just outside the front door of Flan Solo, which is evidently Leah and her brother Sam’s favorite restaurant in Salt Lake City. Her hair is down and around her shoulders, and her eyes look so sharply blue tonight it’s almost as if she dyed them.

  She hasn’t worn her hair down in nearly a month, having fully given herself over from the done-up princess that arrived to a true working ranch girl.