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

by Max Monroe

  Apparently, all these feelings, all this fucking discomfort over the idea of her not being here anymore is for naught.

  Because we’re a summer fucking fling.

  We’re no big deal.

  A fun fucking memory we can reminisce on when we’re old and gray.

  “That’s right, darlin’,” I comment on a harsh laugh and stand up from my chair. “There’s nothing to get worked up over because it’s all no big deal.”

  She just stares back at me, mouth gaped open wide enough to catch flies.

  “And you know what? Why wait until the sixteenth, ya know? Let’s just cut our losses now,” I say and grab my plate off the table and walk it over to the kitchen sink. “It’s been real fuckin’ fun, darlin’. Thanks for all the fuckin’ fun this summer,” I say and slide my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “Have a safe trip back to Salt Lake.”

  With a quick kiss to her forehead, I walk out of her cabin and out of her life without another word.

  A summer fucking fling.

  Who would’ve thought something that’s no big deal would hurt this goddamn bad.

  August 11th, Wednesday

  Rhett

  I slept like shit last night.

  All damn night, I tossed and turned over that horrible conversation with Leah.

  I shouldn’t have left like that. I shouldn’t have let my pride get in the way.

  I know that whole summer fling bullshit was just that—total and utter bullshit. And I know she’s been feeling about me the way I’ve been feeling about her. We’ve shared too much, experienced too many things together, for me not to see that we’re both deep in our feelings over each other.

  Deep down, I want to try to find a way to make this work between us.

  I still don’t know what that would entail or if it’s even possible, but I’m willing to try.

  All morning, I’ve been wondering if she’d show up at the stalls to help with the horses. Or if I’d see her at the chicken coop after lunch. But when she went MIA on the ranch, I told Tilly to take over for me in Barn Three so I could make this shit right.

  I pull up to her cabin to find the screen door wide open and the truck my dad loaned her nowhere to be found.

  That’s odd…

  Out of my truck and up to the house, the moment I step inside, I’m shocked to see Francine, one of the ladies on our cleaning crew, walking out of Leah’s bedroom with her arms full of bedding.

  “Oh my goodness!” she shouts and jumps back a step. “You scared the shit outta me, Rhett!”

  “Sorry about that,” I apologize and run a hand through my hair. “What are you doing here, exactly?”

  “What do you mean?” She starts to shove the bedding into one of her laundry sacks. “Miss Leah left early this morning. So, Randall and I came over to get the cabin cleaned up again for guests. He just left about ten minutes ago to grab some Clorox wipes and toilet paper from the lodge.”

  What? Leah fucking left? This morning?

  When I just keep standing there, staring at Francine, she tilts her head to the side in confusion.

  “Did ya need something, honey?”

  I shake my head, but it’s all I can do. The ability to speak disappeared the second Francine told me that Leah left.

  No goodbye.

  No nothing.

  She just hauled ass out of here like a criminal in the middle of the night.

  My shock turns to anger, and I clench my fists at my sides to try to temper the intensity that rushes through my veins.

  Leah fucking left without telling me. And she even left without saying goodbye to Joey.

  My daughter is going to be fucking heartbroken over this.

  Yeah. Well, that makes two of you.

  I shake my head, turning on my heel to get the fuck out of Cabin Three and all the memories of Leah it contains, but Francine’s voice stops me before I can make it inside my truck.

  “Rhett, honey! Wait!”

  I look up to find her running down the porch steps and right toward me.

  By the time she reaches me, her breaths are coming out in quick pants. “Oh boy, I’m outta shape.” She half laughs, half wheezes. “These were left on the nightstand for you and Joe.”

  Two envelopes are placed in my hand.

  I glance down to see my name and Joey’s name written across the front in Leah’s familiar scrawl.

  She left me a fucking letter?

  To say what? Thanks for the fun?

  I turn on my heel again and open the driver’s side door, but when I glance over my shoulder and realize Francine is still standing there, utterly perplexed by my silent reaction, I offer a polite nod. “Thanks, Francine. See ya later.”

  She smiles and waves, and I can’t even find the strength to force my lips to do anything but stay in a firm line.

  My jaw clenches as I start the engine, and without hesitation, I take those two envelopes from Leah Levee and shove them both in the center console of my truck and let the lid slam shut.

  If she was too much of a fucking coward to say goodbye to Joey and me in person, then I’m going to be too much of a prideful son of a bitch to read whatever bullshit she probably wrote down.

  And to think I thought we’d actually been on the same page.

  That she’d been feeling about me the way I was feeling about her.

  It’s almost like she pulled a fucking Anna and just walked right out of Joey’s and my life without saying goodbye. Without a single fucking thought of how it would make us feel.

  Maybe Leah isn’t the woman I once thought she was.

  Maybe she’s just like everyone else—selfish as fuck and not worth my time.

  Leah

  “Lenny said you wanted to talk to me,” I greet as I step inside Frank Kaminsky’s office at the Slammers’ main headquarters in downtown Salt Lake.

  He grins at me from behind his fancy desk. “C’mon in, Dr. Levee. It’s good to see ya. How are ya doing? Was the flight in this morning okay?”

  Seeing as this is my boss, normally, I’d feel pressure to keep my thoughts to myself.

  But with the way this day has gone since I got out of bed this morning, I don’t feel like beating around the bush. Frankly, I don’t feel like doing much of anything but keep trying to get ahold of Rhett.

  “Well, to be honest, I’ve been better,” I answer honestly. “Getting woken up at five in the morning to head back to Salt Lake several days early wasn’t the best way to start the day.”

  “I apologize for the last-minute change, but Dr. Hall had to take a short leave of absence late yesterday to handle some personal medical issues, and we needed to make sure we had a doctor on the court because, as you know, the guys are in the middle of their most grueling part of preseason training. Not to mention, we had too many injuries pop up in the preseason last year. We couldn’t take any risks, Leah.”

  All I can do is nod.

  “Everything go okay with the Jameson family?” he asks with a knowing grin. “The men behave themselves?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I shrug. “It went well.”

  A little too well, even.

  Because the instant I stepped foot on the plane this morning and it went wheels up out of Shaw Springs Ranch, I’ve had a knot in my chest the size of a boulder.

  And I’ve cried three times.

  Felt sick over leaving the ranch without getting a chance to say goodbye to Rhett and Joey.

  Haven’t been able to eat a damn thing.

  “Tex still doing okay after the heart attack?”

  I nod. “He’s doing great.”

  “Good.” Frank taps his fingers against the desk. “Well, I just wanted to bring you in here and make sure you’re all settled in, but I also wanted to talk to you about taking over Dr. Hall’s position. He’s going to be phasing out of his place here with the Slammers. He’s reaching the age where he wants to retire and spend the rest of his days relaxing at home with his family, rather than dealing with six-foot-five, s
martass basketball players.” He smirks. “And I’d like to see you take over his position.”

  My mouth falls open. “You want me to take over Dr. Hall’s position?”

  “This is lookin’ to be his last season with us.”

  This news should bring me joy.

  Hell, it should make me want to jump out of this chair and scream for joy.

  But there is nothing joyful about this.

  If anything, I just feel even more sick to my stomach.

  And numb. I feel so fucking numb right now. It feels like everything that was important to me was ripped away from me the second I got on that plane.

  “Wow,” I mutter and look down at my lap. “I…I don’t know what to say. Or what I want to do.”

  “Are you having doubts about your position in this organization?”

  “Honestly, Mr. Kaminsky, yes, I think I am having doubts about working for this organization.”

  The words just shoot from my mouth before I can even think about them.

  Oddly enough, though, I don’t want to take them back.

  When I realize Frank is gawking at me with shock and that my abrupt delivery might’ve been pretty fucking harsh, I try to smooth it over the best I can. “Shoot. That didn’t come out the way I meant it. What I’m trying to say is that I thought this is where I wanted to be, working for your great organization, but I don’t think this is where I belong.”

  He just stares back at me.

  “I…uh…I’m really sorry,” I backpedal. “I just… It’s been a long day, and I think I just need to get some sleep and start fresh in the morning. Now probably wasn’t the most optimal time to have this conversation.”

  “That’s reasonable.” He nods. “Normally, I’d be pretty pissed that someone I’ve handed a great opportunity to is pretty much shitting all over it, but I’m going to be nice and give you the benefit of the doubt. You did me a favor by going out there and helping Rhett. And, honestly, it was a blessing you were out there when Tex had his heart attack.”

  Just the mere mention of Rhett’s name makes my heart want to fall out of my chest.

  “So,” Frank continues. “Let’s shelve this conversation until you’ve gotten back into the swing of things here. We’ll revisit this next week.”

  “Okay.”

  The conversation comes to an end, and I head out of his office with a head that’s spinning faster than a fucking top.

  Frank Kaminsky just told me he wants me to take over Dr. Hall’s position, and I pretty much told him I didn’t want it.

  Surely I’m going to regret those words after I sleep on it, right?

  I mean, what the fuck?

  That position is what I’ve wanted. What I’ve been working for.

  But why does it feel like it’s not where I should be?

  Because you left your fucking heart at Shaw Springs.

  Tears threaten to prick my eyes for the fourth time today, and I shake it off and focus on heading back to the practice court. I have three players to check out and a hundred other things to get settled. I don’t have time for tears.

  I do, though, have time to grab my cell phone out of my purse and try to call Rhett’s landline one more time.

  It rings and rings and rings, and just like the ten other times I’ve attempted to call him, it goes to his answering machine.

  Which, unfortunately for me, is full and unable to accept any more messages.

  I silently wonder if he even remembers he has a fucking answering machine.

  You shouldn’t have gotten on that plane this morning.

  Shit. I sigh. I should’ve at least told the execs from the Slammers organization that I couldn’t leave until I spoke with Rhett.

  Because leaving things the horrible way we left them last night?

  That, right now, is my biggest regret.

  August 13th, Thursday

  Tex

  “Tex! Tex! Wake up!” Jenny’s voice startles the shit out of me, and I pop my eyes open to find her standing over me.

  “What the hell ya doin’, honey?” I question and rub at my eyes with one hand. “Is something on fire?”

  “Frank is on the phone.”

  “Huh?”

  “Frank Kaminsky,” she repeats. “He’s on the phone.”

  “What time is it?” I ask, and she glances at the watch on her wrist.

  “A little after five.”

  “Hell, I fell asleep in the recliner again, didn’t I?”

  “You sure did.” She smiles down at me and reaches out to touch a gentle hand to my cheek.

  I’m telling ya, ever since I had my heart attack and everyone’s been hassling me to relax and take things easy, I’ve sure become too damn lazy. Like clockwork, I just up and fall asleep in the middle of the damn day.

  You’d think all this healthy eating and medication keeping my heart in check would give me more energy, but fuck, it’s like I’ve turned into a fucking cat.

  “Gettin’ old is a real bitch,” I mutter, and my wife flashes an amused smile at me as she walks back into the kitchen.

  With a grunt, I ease my body out of the recliner. My hips pop and my knees crack with my first moves, but eventually, I’m on my feet and heading into my office.

  My rotary phone is sitting off the hook, and I grab it and put it to my ear.

  “Ya there, Frank?”

  “I’m here,” he answers. “Though, I thought maybe Jenny’d forgotten about me.”

  I chuckle. “Nah, she had to wake my lazy ass up from a nap.”

  “A nap?” he asks, surprise in his voice. “Tex Jameson takes fuckin’ naps now?”

  “Apparently,” I respond. “I think those damn Salt Lake doctors of yours fucked me up when they were treating my heart attack.”

  “You feeling good, though?”

  “Yeah. I’m feeling and doing good.”

  “Glad to hear. Was real worried about ya.”

  “Ah, c’mon, Frank. You know I’m too much of a bastard to up and die this early. Surely I’ll be around for another twenty or so years just so I can give you a hard time whenever I can.”

  He laughs. “Well, speaking of doctors, that’s actually why I’m calling.”

  “Yeah?”

  “What the hell did ya do to my doctor?”

  My head jerks back. “Huh?”

  “Leah Levee,” he expands. “I sent her to ya, and she was motivated and ready to seize the fucking day, ready to work to be my number one doctor on the Slammers team. But after she came back from your ranch, it’s like she’s had a fuckin’ brain transplant or some shit.”

  “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “She’s not happy,” he says. “Talking about stepping down from her position on the Slammers and going back to her orthopedic practice after this season is over. Which, to be honest, is a real fucking pain in my ass because my number one doctor is probably going to have to retire soon. He’s getting old and dealing with some medical shit. It’s why I had to have Leah come back to Salt Lake a few days early.”

  “Well, shit.”

  “What do you mean, well shit? Did something happen out there?”

  “Pretty sure a lot happened out here, Frank,” I answer honestly. “But none of that shit is my business to tell.”

  “You can’t be fucking serious.”

  “Don’t ask me, Frank. I’m not telling.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  Yeah, son of a bitch is right. Pretty sure I gotta do some investigatin’ to figure out what happened. Careful investigatin’, though. Not pushy. Not pryin’. But enough to get an idea of what really went down between Rhett and Leah.

  “Hey, Frank, I gotta go.”

  “Of course you do.”

  I chuckle. “See ya around, bud.”

  The instant I hang up the phone, I walk into the bedroom, open the drawer of my nightstand, and pull out a little black box that Jenny made me get out of the lodge safe about a month ago.

  Well, I’ll be d
amned. I think my Jenny was right.

  And now it’s making sense why Tiny’s been saying Rhett’s been a real asshole the past two days.

  Pretty sure my son is in love.

  “Jenny!” I call out from the bedroom. “You heard from Rhett today?”

  “Yeah,” she shouts back. “He’s gonna drop Joe off in about an hour before he has to go do something over in one of the pastures.”

  Looks like I have a little time to figure out how in the hell I’m gonna broach this subject without pissing off my son.

  The instant Rhett steps through my door, the facts are written all over his goddamn face.

  Pain. Misery.

  Fucking heartbreak.

  Shit.

  Once I say a quick hello to my Joey, I revert my focus to Rhett.

  “You got a minute, son?”

  He nods. “I can give you about five minutes.”

  “Perfect.”

  He follows my lead into the office, and the second we’re both in there, I gently shut the door.

  He furrows his brow, and I try my best to go at this with the kind of finesse my Jenny is skilled at employing.

  “Have you talked to Leah since she went back to Salt Lake?”

  His jaw clenches. “Nope.”

  Yep. Now it’s making sense why he’s been such a fucking grouch to Tiny and the rest of the ranch staff.

  I’m real tempted to tell him just that, but I bite my tongue and keep my restraint.

  The restraint I told him I wanted to have when I was in the hospital.

  Thankfully, while I’m mentally bumbling around trying to find the right words, he offers up a bit more information.

  “Pops, whatever you’re trying to find out about Leah, I’m not gonna know,” he adds. “Haven’t spoken with her since before she left. Hell, she didn’t even say goodbye to me when she did leave. She just left some fuckin’ notes for me and Joey.”

  “What did they say?”

  “I don’t fuckin’ know. I didn’t read them.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  “Now, this is just me talking,” I begin to say, carefully trying to tiptoe around this land mine. “Not me getting in your business, all right?”