The Rancher's Rules

by Lucy Monroe

  “I’ll have you know that my parrot is a highly intelligent bird. He even says my name.”

  “Zoe, that parrot does not talk.”

  “Sure he does. You just have to understand his dialect.”

  Grant snorted.

  “What about Bud?”

  “He rolls all over the house in his exercise ball. I think he likes the living room best. I’m really not into small pets, but I let him do the ball thing a couple of hours each night.”

  Zoe smiled. “Thank you. Just think of it as training for when you have kids and they have small pets.”

  “I’m not getting married anytime soon. Ergo…no kids.”

  A sudden image of a little boy with Grant’s dark coloring swam into her mind, making her long for things she could never have with him. “Do you have to drive so slow? I’m already late for school.”

  “It’s a good thing I stopped by this morning to drive you. You’d probably have ended up in a ditch, driving too fast.”

  Zoe did not appreciate his comment. “Listen, Grant, I drive myself to work every other day of the year and I do not end up in ditches.”

  “So, your guardian angels work overtime? I knew that the first day I met you.”

  “Then I guess I don’t need you doing it too, do I?”

  “Maybe you don’t, but you’re stuck with me.” His set jaw let her know that he found her flippant answer annoying.

  It amazed her how quickly small disagreements escalated into full-blown arguments with him lately. This time she was going to remain calm. She gave him a conciliatory smile. “I’ve noticed.”

  He didn’t return her smile. In fact, his frown grew more intense. “I promised your parents I’d watch out for you when they moved and I will.”

  Just like that, her resolution to stay calm went up in smoke. “Don’t let a promise to my parents stop you from finding someone else to tyrannize. They gave up on me a long time ago.”

  He swore.

  The rest of the drive to town was mile after mile of charged silence.

  She unbuckled the minute Grant pulled up in front of Sunshine Springs Elementary School. Pasting a fake smile on her face, she unlatched her door and hopped out. “You don’t need to bother picking me up. I’ll catch a ride with someone else.”

  His jaw could have been hewn from canyon rock. “I’ll be here at three-fifteen.”

  “Fine.” She forced herself not to slam the truck door.

  Grant waited until she was safely on the sidewalk before backing up. He exited the parking lot at a much faster speed than he had driven into town.

  Zoe swallowed her frustration and headed into the building. The last thing she needed to deal with a roomful of five-year-olds was a bad attitude.

  When he pulled up in front of the school that afternoon, Grant half expected Zoe to be gone. She wasn’t. She stood talking to a couple of other teachers in some flowy cotton thing that flirted in the wind, with her legs encased in tight leggings. Didn’t she know any better than to wear stuff like that in this weather? And where was her coat? At least she was wearing a turtleneck under the flowy thing.

  Wasn’t that the tattoo man from the other evening? If she thought Grant would let Mr. Leather drive her home, she was in for a shock. No way was she going home on a Harley in these conditions.

  Zoe looked up and met his eyes. Grant breathed a sigh of relief when she said goodbye to her friends and headed toward his truck. At least that was one battle they did not have to get into. Not like this morning. He still couldn’t figure out what had offended her so much. Did it really bother her that he had wanted to drive her to school?

  A small, still voice chided Grant. It hadn’t been Zoe’s response that had escalated their argument. It had been his own. He was edgy and he knew why. Her dad had called him the previous evening, after she had taken care of her animals and left. He and Mrs. Jensen weren’t coming for Christmas.

  They had been invited last minute to join a group of retirees on a cruise for the holidays. Heaven knew why they accepted, but they had. Zoe would be devastated. He had given the number for the Patterson place to Mr. Jensen, but the older man had asked Grant to relay the news—said they were too busy packing to make another phone call, which was a load of manure. The man just didn’t want to have to deal with his daughter when he told her they weren’t coming back for the holidays. He’d probably dealt with enough grief from his wife, but Mrs. Jensen was an old-fashioned woman. She might argue with her husband, but she wouldn’t outright say no to him.

  Grant could have refused to tell Zoe, but that would not have improved the situation. Mr. Jensen did not know how to talk to his daughter. He would hurt her with his pragmatic attitude. He might even go on about Zoe’s pets and the new mess she’d gotten herself into because of them, as he had to Grant on the phone the previous evening.

  Much better for Zoe if Grant were to break the news. First he would have to get her speaking to him again, though. He was going to have to apologize. The thought did not lighten his mood.

  She opened the passenger door and climbed in, shivering. “You’re late.”

  “I got caught on a phone call to New York on the landline.” If he’d been on his cell, he could have left on time.

  She harrumphed like only Zoe could. He imagined her little kindergarteners knew just when they had upset Miss Jensen without her saying a word. She had a look when she was mad or disappointed that left no doubt how she felt.

  “What were you doing talking to that joker?” He hadn’t meant to ask, but now that he had Grant wanted an answer.

  Zoe’s head snapped toward him and she gasped. She turned back and looked out the front windshield. “I do not know to whom you are referring. None of my friends are jokers.”

  He ground his teeth. “The guy in all the leather.”

  “I told you, his name is Tyler.”

  “So, why were you talking to him?”

  “I talk to lots of people, Grant. Do you expect me to keep a record and report back to you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Good, because I would have to disappoint you if you did.”

  He had not meant to get so off track. “Are you going out with him again?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “It sure as hell is. I promised your parents I’d watch out for you.”

  “So you said this morning.”

  Grant cleared his throat. The thermal shirt under his flannel suddenly felt like one too many layers. “About this morning…”

  Zoe gave him a sideways glance. “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry I came on so strong. I know you’re a good driver and I should not have implied otherwise.”

  Zoe’s tense stance deflated like a pierced balloon. “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “Do you forgive me?” He knew with Zoe that once she gave the words it would be a reality.

  She knew it too. She inhaled, and then let out a long, protracted breath. “Yeah, I forgive you. Are you sorry for calling Tyler a joker too?”

  Grant smiled. “Don’t push it.”

  Zoe laughed. “He really is a nice guy.”

  Grant just snorted. He wasn’t about to say something to start another fight with her.

  “You’ll be happy to know that he’s going out with my friend Jenny now. She was the redhead talking to us when you drove up.”

  He liked hearing that, but wasn’t it awfully damn fast? Less than a week ago Tyler had been going out with Zoe. “What happened with the two of you?” he couldn’t help asking.

  Zoe’s laughter filled the cab with more warmth than the heated air blasting from the vents. “Nothing happened with the two of us. We were never more than friends. I wanted to fix him up with Jenny all along, but both of them were shy to begin with.”

  Grant could imagine Jenny being nervous about dating Tyler. Most women would be. “Uh…Zoe, there’s something else I need to tell you.”

  “Another apology? I don’t know if my hear
t can handle it.”

  “No. Your dad called last night.”

  “Really? Did you give him the Pattersons’ number? I didn’t hear the phone ring.”

  “I gave your dad the number, but he was real busy.”

  She couldn’t quite hide her disappointment. “Oh.”

  “They got invited on a seniors’ cruise for the holidays.”

  “That’s wonderful.” She smiled. “I’m glad they’re settling in so well. I was a little worried about Mom. She’s so shy around strangers. I’m sure it disappointed her to tell her new friends no. There will be other cruises, though.”

  Zoe’s concern for her mom’s feelings made the news that they weren’t coming even more obscene in Grant’s mind. “They didn’t say no. Your parents aren’t coming out for Christmas.”

  “What do you mean? Of course they are coming. We’ve been planning the trip since before I visited them at Thanksgiving.”

  He reached across the seat and pressed his fingers around her arm. “They changed their minds.”

  “They changed their minds about spending Christmas with me?” She made it sound every bit as bad as it was.

  “It’s not the end of the world, Zoe. Just think, you get to avoid the yearly Christmas argument with your dad.”

  “We don’t have those anymore.” He grunted, and she said, “They aren’t as bad as they used to be anyway.”

  “You won’t be alone. My parents are still coming, and Mom’s expecting your help with dinner.” It was a small stretch of the truth, but he was sure that his stepmom should be expecting Zoe’s help for dinner.

  There had to be things besides the turkey that Zoe could help prepare. And since his stepmother would insist on doing all the cooking, so the foreman’s wife could be with her family, his comment wasn’t a real stretch at all.

  Zoe did not answer.

  Grant decided to change the subject. It wouldn’t do Zoe any good to dwell on her strained relationship with her parents. “Do you want me to swing by the Patterson place, or take you to the Double C first?”

  “Just drop me off at the Pattersons’. Your hands are doing a great job taking care of everyone. I’m sure Snoopy wishes he could live over there permanently. He was never meant to leave the ranch. I should have taken you up on your offer to give him a home a long time ago. I’ve been too stubborn.”

  Grant hated the dejected tone in her voice. “I thought maybe you would come over for dinner tonight. I won’t even make you cook.”

  She smiled at him briefly, and then turned to look out the window. “No, thanks. I have work to do, and I don’t want to leave the cats cooped up in the bathroom.”

  “We can stop and pick them up.” He ignored her comment about having work to do, sure it was just an excuse.

  Grant would not let Zoe get out of the truck when they arrived at the Pattersons’. “I’ll just run in and get the cats.”

  Zoe watched him walk away and reminded herself that at least she had him. Although she had told him that morning that she did not need him, nothing could be further from the truth. For as long as she could remember, Grant and his folks had been filling an empty place in Zoe’s heart left by her parents’ disapproval. She should not be surprised that her mom and dad had opted to join their new friends on a cruise. They’d never made it a secret that she didn’t live up to their expectations.

  How could she? She wasn’t the dead brother she’d never even known, who by all accounts had been the perfect rancher’s son. She didn’t think her dad had ever forgiven her for being born female, maybe even for being born at all after he’d lost his precious son.

  Grant opened his door and a blast of cold air whooshed into the cab. She shivered while he tucked the cat carrier in the extension behind the main cab.

  “If you thought Alexander was unhappy about spending time in the bathroom today, you should have seen him getting into the cat carrier.”

  Zoe grinned. “That bad, huh?”

  “I just hope we can find him later, when it’s time to bring you home.”

  “We’ve only got one more day of school, and then I’ll be there and he can be out of the bathroom and roam free.”

  “Except when you’re looking for a place.”

  She said nothing to this reminder of the monumental task before her.

  Twenty minutes later, the fragrance of melted butter and popping corn filled the kitchen, and soon the subtle aroma of brewing coffee joined it. Grant had suggested watching a DVD when they arrived, and she’d accepted gratefully. She knew he had stuff to do—he always did—but somehow he also always managed to make time for her when she needed him.

  Grant Cortez was a really special guy.

  When the popcorn and coffee were done, they went together to the entertainment room. “Want to watch an I Love Lucy episode?” Grant asked, knowing the old black-and-white comedy was one of her favorite shows.

  “Sure.”

  She sat down on the couch. He popped in the DVD, then turned around to sit down and hesitated. What was the matter with him?

  She patted the seat beside her. “The popcorn is over here.”

  After another short hesitation, and an unreadable look, he sat down, leaving a few inches between them. She scooted over to sit up against his side and rest her head against his shoulder. It was how they always watched DVDs. Grant sighed and put his arm around her shoulders.

  The image of Lucy trying to stuff chocolate candies into her already full cheeks faded as Zoe became intensely aware of Grant’s arm where it touched her.

  This kind of thing had been happening with increasing regularity over the past year, and Zoe had always forced herself to ignore it. She’d thought The Night had well and truly cured her of any lingering romantic feelings toward Grant, much less any lust for his hard-muscled body. She’d been wrong, as the past year had too frequently shown…at least about the lust part.

  She couldn’t believe that she still wanted him after the painful rejection he’d dealt her when she was nineteen.

  She’d been home from college for the summer, and they’d spent tons of time together, like always. Only there had been something different about that summer. It had been as if Grant had finally woken up to the fact she was a woman. He’d taken her places he’d previously only taken dates, and she’d caught him looking at her, his blue eyes darkened with what she’d been sure was desire, on more than one occasion.

  She’d realized he was the embodiment of every romantic fantasy she’d ever had or would have when she was sixteen. Only he’d been engaged and living the majority of the year on the east coast then.

  He’d gone to college near his real mother, so he could get to know that side of his family. It hadn’t worked out the way either he or his dad had hoped. Grant’s grandfather had died his sophomore year of college and he’d left his grandson the majority of his wealth, making Grant’s mother angry and driving another wedge between mother and son.

  Grant had started dating “the witch” that same year, and they’d been engaged ten months later. The engagement had ended when Grant had agreed to return to Oregon to run the ranch, after his dad had told him he intended to move with Lottie to Portland and oversee his business interests there.

  To give Roy Cortez credit, he had offered Grant three options: hire a foreman with full decision-making authority, sell the ranch that had been in their family for four generations, or come home and run it himself.

  Considering the fact that Grant had planned to live and work on the east coast, it had come as quite a shock to most everyone when he had agreed to move home. Everyone except Zoe. She’d known he wouldn’t leave the ranch’s running to a foreman, and that he would never sell it. He was a business tycoon through and through, but he was also connected to the land in the same way his great-grandfather had been.

  His fiancée hadn’t liked it, and had given Grant back his ring. He’d started dating lots of different sophisticated women then. There were always plenty to choose from, both in
the winter, when ski bunnies showed up, and the summer, when supermodels lazed by their swimming pools in barely-there bikinis.

  Zoe had been sure he would never look at her that way. She was too smalltown, and not exactly centerfold material, with her petite frame and mousy brown hair. But she’d been wrong, at least for a little while, and it had all come to a head one night that summer, when one of their many playful arguments had turned into a wrestling match.

  She’d found herself pinned beneath his hard body and his even harder erection. She could still remember the shock she’d felt as his hips had settled into hers, making her intimately aware for the first time of the effect she had on a male body. And not just any male body. That hardness had belonged to Grant.

  He’d kissed her and it had been incredible. So incredible that she hadn’t noticed him removing clothes until they’d both been naked from the waist up and his mouth had settled on one of her nipples. The pleasure had been so intense it had shocked her right out of her passionate haze and she’d panicked.

  She’d never even been French kissed before. She hadn’t wanted to experiment with anyone but Grant, and he hadn’t been available. She had pleaded with him to let her go. She’d thrown her shirt on and run from the barn and from the feelings he’d evoked in her. Later, she’d wanted to kick herself for being such an idiot. She could have trusted Grant not to hurt her.

  She’d loved him all her life, and if it wasn’t him it would never be anyone. So she’d decided to give him her virginity. He’d been supposed to escort her to a town dance, and she’d planned to offer him both her love and her innocence that night. Her plans had ended in her private humiliation when a model from New York had convinced Grant to drop Zoe off at home before taking her for a nighttime flight in his private plane.

  The only consolation she could take from that night was the fact that Grant had not known her plans, or of the love that had been burning inside her for most of her life.

  She would never give him the opportunity to stomp on her heart that way again.

  Even knowing that the friendship they shared was as close to intimacy as they should ever get, she still desired him—and now it was getting worse. Like that summer four years ago, she sensed that Grant had become aware of the air sizzling between them as well. His breathing had turned shallow and his heartbeat thundered in her ear.