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

by Max Monroe

  Seems like maybe there are two people now…

  I shake off all those annoying thoughts and take Leah’s hand with my right and Joey’s with my left. As a unit, we walk through the parking lot and up to the gate to wait our turn to get inside.

  When I step up to the booth to buy our tickets, the man inside recognizes me instantly, and I groan internally. It doesn’t happen as often anymore, now that I’m getting older and it’s been a while since I’ve been on the circuit, but the rodeo lifers still know me when they see me.

  “Holy shit, Rhett Jameson in the flesh! I can’t fuckin’ believe how cool this is.”

  “Hi,” I say simply, never one to be good at being gushed over, and Leah’s eyes bug out at my side. I can tell she wants to run her mouth off at my curt response, but she at least has the good grace to contain herself for now. I reckon it won’t last long, though.

  “Man, this is awesome. I can’t wait to tell my girlfriend I saw you here. She’s, like, to this day, one of your biggest fans.”

  “I’ll bet,” Leah says under her breath, and I just shake my head.

  “I need to sign off for the mutton bustin’!” Joey shouts, trying to make herself heard from her spot way below the counter.

  The ticket dude stands up and leans over then and smiles. “Oh man, hey there, little person. Signups are gonna be on the south side of the arena, down by the chutes. Find the big guy with the black hat and bright blue chaps, okay?”

  Joey nods enthusiastically, grabbing Leah’s hand and dragging her away from my side immediately. “You can finish up and pay while Leah takes me to find that guy, right, Daddy?”

  I don’t get the chance to answer before they’re gone at a jog, Leah waving over her shoulder and then giving me the thumbs-up to assure me it’s all okay.

  The tension in my shoulders says otherwise, but I don’t bother with fighting it. I know at this point it won’t do me any good.

  I finish up at the ticket booth and walk inside, looking over everything I know so well, and yet can’t hardly remember. I’ve been avoiding coming back here for years, terrified of all the stark reminders of what used to be.

  Being on the circuit, partying and sleeping with random women, including Anna—being in a different city every night—it all feels like a lifetime ago now that I have my life on the ranch with Joey.

  It feels like a young man’s game that I’m not young enough for anymore, and to be honest, in an unexpected twist, it actually feels good to get confirmation. Feels good to be here.

  I’m not just content with my life; I’m happy.

  And now that Leah’s a part of it, too? I don’t know that I’ve ever been happier.

  Mood significantly lifted, I turn and head toward the back of the chutes where I know I’ll find my girls. It’s a packed house, with people everywhere, even this early, and occasionally as I walk, someone who recognizes me will wave.

  I tip my hat in recognition but don’t take it much further—the last thing I want is to get trapped in another loop of enthusiastic small talk.

  Finally, I make it to the back of the arena and spot my girls, Joey’s bright pink standing out against all the duller colors of the cowboys. She’s getting her gear on with Leah’s help, though I know for a fact she’s still probably got at least an hour before she rides, and the unbridled eagerness in her every move makes me smile.

  I’m thrilled to death that she’s found something she loves this much at such a young age, and if I’m a smart man—which I like to think I am—I’ll do everything I can to foster it.

  I sway and weave my way through the crowd, making my way over to them, and I get within ten blessed feet when a hand presses into my chest, stopping me cold.

  Now, I know at least a dozen cowboys and cowgirls I wouldn’t mind seeing here, but wouldn’t you know, it’s the one and only one I’d do anything to avoid.

  “Rhett Jameson,” Anna says, a coy lilt to her voice. “At an actual rodeo, in the flesh. I ’bout near thought I’d die before I saw the day you came back here.”

  There are a million things I could say and just as many comebacks I could make, but the truth is, none of them seem to matter at all anymore.

  For my purposes, the less I deal with Anna Morrow, the better, but I’m not going to waste any more energy on my anger either.

  I feel like I can finally let it all go. I don’t want her to come around. She made her choice—a fucking dumb choice—but Joey is better off without her anyway. It’s a shame Anna’s missing out on our daughter, but that’s her choice, not mine.

  “Hi, Anna.”

  “Hi, Anna?” she taunts back. “Is that really all you have to say to me?”

  I consider it briefly, and then I shrug. “You know what…yeah, it is.”

  For the first time ever in all the years she’s been toying with me, concern flashes across her face, and I swear, it pains me to admit it, but Chase Walker was damn right. All Anna’s ever wanted is the attention—even if it came with a raging pot of anger—from me.

  “I hope you have a good life, Anna. I really do. Because I’ve got one I never could have ever dreamed of. And you and me—all this drama—it’s done.”

  With a smile and a wave, I step around the woman who, for years, plagued my thoughts with all the could-have-beens she never made, and I walk toward the two who make everything in the future look bright.

  Joey and I…we’re doing just fine, have been for years.

  And now, with Leah in our lives, I can say with confidence that we’re not doing just fine anymore.

  We’re doing great.

  August 10th, Tuesday

  Leah

  Arms filled with two bags of groceries, I walk out of the small mom-and-pop grocery store in Kanab and head toward the truck. Tonight, I promised Rhett I’d make him my famous fettuccine alfredo. And in return, he promised me a quiet night with just the two of us. He also promised that he’d bring the dessert.

  Though, he didn’t refer to chocolate cake or ice cream or pie.

  His exact words were, “You make dinner, darlin’, and my tongue will make sure that sweet pussy of yours gets one hell of a dessert.”

  That cowboy of mine might be a true gentleman at heart, but damn, he’s got a talent for dirty talk.

  Needless to say, I had no qualms with running into town this afternoon to get everything I needed to make homemade pasta.

  As I close the distance to the truck, I feel a vibration against my side, and I stop in the middle of the parking lot, glancing around the mostly empty space.

  When I feel that same sensation a second and a third time, it dawns on me—my phone.

  I almost laugh at the absurdity.

  Quickly, I juggle my bags into one arm and pull my cell out of my purse and look at the screen to see Incoming Call Frank Kaminsky.

  Shoot. My freaking boss is calling me!

  The boss that, for the last few weeks, I’ve pretty much forgotten all about.

  Hell, the last time I talked to him was right after Tex had his heart attack.

  I fumble with the phone in my hands until I can steady it enough to hit accept.

  “Hello?”

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” Frank’s voice fills my ear. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for two days now.”

  “Sorry about that.” I grimace and hold the phone to my ear with my shoulder. “Cell service on the ranch isn’t—”

  “I’m just messin’ with you, Leah,” he says. “I know that bastard Tex is too cheap to get a good cell connection out there. But I also know he prefers it that way. The man has never been much for modernizing shit. Speaking of the old bastard, how’s he doing?”

  “He’s actually doing really well,” I answer and finish the short walk to the truck.

  “I take it you’ve been keeping an eye on him since the heart attack?”

  “Yep,” I answer. “Doing my best to keep these Jameson men healthy.”

  “Jameson men are a special kind of
breed of stubborn.”

  I laugh. “That they are.”

  “And how’s your actual patient doing?”

  “Uh…really good, actually. Brace is off and he’s full-weight bearing. Pretty much back to all of his normal cowboy, rancher activities. It’s safe to say his leg has made a full and healthy recovery.”

  “Good to hear,” he comments. “Sounds like everything is on track as we planned.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, I’d say we’ll be on schedule for you to head back home on the sixteenth.”

  “The sixteenth?” I question with wide eyes, and when I realize it’s already the tenth, my heart seizes up in discomfort.

  “Yep,” he answers. “I’ll send a plane out there for ya, and then you can get back to your actual job here at the Slammers. The team is looking forward to having you back.”

  I don’t even know what to say to that.

  I mean, that’s so soon.

  And it’s like I’ve gotten so used to living out here that I lost sight of my reality—I’m not a permanent fixture on the ranch. I was only hired for eight weeks, and well, that eight weeks is almost up.

  I drop my bags beside the truck and just stand there, staring at myself in the reflection of the driver’s side window.

  Where did the time go?

  “Leah?” Frank’s voice startles me. “You still there?”

  “Y-yeah. Yes, I mean. I’m still here. Sorry.” I put a hand to my forehead and shut my eyes. “So, you’re going to send a plane out for me on the sixteenth?”

  “Yep,” he responds. “See ya in six days. Can’t wait to have you back.”

  A second later, the line clicks off, and I’m left standing in the middle of the parking lot, trying to wrap my head around it all.

  In less than a week, I’ll have to leave the ranch.

  Leave Joey and Jenny and Tex and all of the staff and ranch hands I’ve come to call friends.

  I’ll have to leave Rhett.

  This man, in a matter of two months, has flipped my world upside down, and now, I don’t know what’s supposed to happen when it’s time for me to say goodbye.

  August 10th, Tuesday

  Rhett

  “All right, cowboy,” Leah announces as she carries two plates filled with homemade pasta over to the small kitchen table in her cabin. “I hope you brought your appetite because dinner’s ready.”

  The table is all set with cutlery and napkins, and she’s even created some ambiance with a flowery tablecloth and candlelight in the center.

  “Darlin’, you’ve outdone yourself,” I tell her, and the moment she sets our plates down, I grab her by the waist, spin her around, and pull her into my arms. “Thanks for preparin’ all this.”

  “You’re welcome.” She grins up at me. “And I can’t deny I might’ve been extra motivated when you told me you’d be bringing the dessert.”

  I reach down and squeeze her ass. “Oh, you have no idea what’s comin’.”

  She giggles, and I use that time to steal a sweet kiss. But once temptation prevails and I deepen the kiss, she pushes me away on another giggle and tells me to sit my ass down and eat before the meal she’s cooked gets cold.

  The second I’m sitting across from her and my face hovers over my plate, the aromas of cheese and salt and olive oil fill my nostrils. “Damn, this smells good.”

  Leah smiles and lifts her glass of water to her lips for a sip.

  “How’d your day go, by the way?”

  “It went fine.” She shrugs. “Mostly just ran errands in town. And, uh…” She pauses for a few seconds before finishing her thought. “Frank Kaminsky called me this afternoon when I was leaving the grocery store.”

  “Yeah?” I take another bite of the fettuccine alfredo Leah made tonight and grin at her from across the table. “Darlin’, this is delicious, by the way.”

  “Oh, uh…thanks. Glad you like it.”

  The smile that appears on her lips looks off. Forced, even.

  “Everything go okay with the call?”

  “Well, yeah,” she says but then pauses.

  “You sure?”

  “Uh-huh.” She shrugs and stares down at her plate, her hand moving her fork through the noodles without any real purpose. “He just wanted to see how you and your dad were doing.”

  “Did you tell him that you never want to take care of another Jameson man?”

  That spurs a laugh from her throat, but it doesn’t last long. “No, but I did let him know that Tex was doing really well. Which he was relieved to hear. And I let him know you’re well on your way to a full recovery.”

  “All thanks to a bossy doctor.” I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes.

  “And…uh…since my eight weeks are just about up, he also mentioned that he’d be sending a plane out here for me on the sixteenth.”

  “The sixteenth? That’s…soon,” I say, but it’s more to myself than her.

  Frankly, I don’t know what to do or say.

  I mean, the fucking sixteenth? In less than a week, she’s just going to pack her shit and go? I know that’s been the plan all along, but lately…I guess I’ve failed to really consider it. I don’t want her to leave.

  “Yeah.” Her mouth turns down at the corners. “It is.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What do you mean?” she says. “I don’t really have a choice. Frank only let me take a leave from my job with the Slammers temporarily so I could come out here and help you. I have to go back. My whole life, my career, it’s in Salt Lake City.”

  Her whole life.

  Even though I don’t fully understand why, those words make me grimace.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” she continues. “I love it out here. I’ve loved the time I’ve spent here. Especially the time I’ve spent with you. Even when you were being a total asshat,” she teases, but I’m having a hard time finding anything funny right now. “I guess the reason I’m bringing this up is…because I don’t know where…we go from here. Me and you, I mean…”

  She looks at me from across the table for a brief moment, but eventually, she looks down at her fingers as they fidget with her napkin.

  “Well…” I pause and try to take a cleansing breath to ease the growing tightness in my chest. “It’s going to be pretty hard with you all the way in Salt Lake and me here on the ranch.”

  “I know,” she agrees and meets my eyes again. “But, I mean, people do long-distance relationships all the time, right?”

  “Yeah, I know a lot of people make long-distance work, but Leah, I don’t live a normal life out here. You know that as well as I do by now. You can’t just call me on the phone anytime, and the same goes for me callin’ you. And baby, I’d want to be callin’ you.”

  “So, you don’t think we could make it work?”

  I run a hand through my hair. “Do you think we could make it work?”

  “During the season would be hard because of all the traveling I have to do, but in the off-season, I’d definitely have more time to come out and visit. And maybe you and Joey could come to Salt Lake and visit me sometimes?”

  None of those options feel good, nor do they feel possible. I work twelve-, fourteen-hour days most of the time, and with ranch life, there isn’t an off-season.

  Fuck.

  “Leah, you’ve seen how my life is out here. And half of that time, my dad was still doing a lot on this ranch,” I answer honestly. “With him out of commission and me eventually taking it all over, the opportunities for me to leave for any extended period of time are slim. If any.”

  Her shoulders sag, and she stares down at her lap again. “So…you don’t think we can make it work?”

  I wish I could tell her that I did.

  I wish I could tell her a lot of fucking things, all of which would make her and me feel better about this. But I got nothing.

  She’s leaving.

  And all of my responsibilities—the ranch, my daughter—they’re here. />
  Son of a bitch.

  “I take it that’s a no, then,” she mutters, and her lip trembles with emotion. “You don’t think we can make it work.”

  All I can do is shake my head. I’ve never been one to sugarcoat shit. And I sure as hell can’t risk sugarcoating shit when I have a little girl whose stability relies on me.

  It’s going to be hard enough on Joey when Leah isn’t here anymore.

  Hell, I don’t think I’ve fully realized the consequences of that, but I can’t imagine prolonging Joey’s pain with false hope that she’ll still get to see Leah sometimes.

  This is a lose-lose situation all a-fucking-round.

  The selfish part of me wants to tell Leah to stay, but how can I ask that of her when she just told me that her whole life is in Salt Lake?

  Her career is important to her. She’s already made that very clear to me, and I refuse to be the man who asks a woman to give up on her dreams. Hell, we still haven’t given this, whatever it is that’s happening between us, an actual title.

  None of it makes sense, but that doesn’t explain this sense of impending doom that sits inside my chest like a fucking rock.

  “Well, I guess that settles it, then, huh?” she retorts, and I don’t miss the way her voice vibrates with anger. “You say we can’t make it work, so that’s that.”

  “Leah, that’s not—”

  “It’s fine, Rhett,” she cuts me off and stands up from her chair abruptly. Plate in hand, she takes it over to the trash can and scrapes a full helping of pasta into the bin.

  “You’re mad at me,” I state, and she whips around to glare at me.

  “I’m not mad,” she refutes, even though everything about her current defiant stance says the opposite. “Why would I be mad? If you don’t think we can make it work or it’s not worth trying to make it work, then that’s fine. I mean, it’s not like we’ve professed our love to each other, right? If anything, this is like a summer fling, you know? No big deal.”

  A summer fucking fling.

  No big deal.

  Obviously, the pain I’m currently feeling is one-sided because I certainly haven’t looked at us as a summer fling. Fuck, I was more than a little tempted to ask her to stay but felt like that was a real bastard move to ask her to give up her career to stay here with me on the ranch.