Hitching the Cowboy (Circle B Ranch 1)

Scrubbing my hands over my face, I see the faint hint of the sun shining through my curtains, then rush toward him as he walks toward the door.

“The fuck?” I push his back, forcing him forward into the hallway. “Gonna kick your ass for that.”

“Yeah, right.” Diesel chuckles, knowing damn well he has sixty pounds and five inches on me. He didn’t get his nickname for being small. Built like a fucking house and loud as a diesel truck, he’s had that nickname since middle school. “Besides the fact that you couldn’t, you wouldn’t hurt the birthday boy.”

I snort, following him into the kitchen. “Your birthday was yesterday.”

“But we’re celebrating this weekend!” he shouts, and he’s way too damn excited. “So technically, it’s my birthday till we get our drunken asses back here on Sunday. Till then, it’s fuckin’ party time!”

“We still have a workday to get through,” I remind him while pouring a mug of coffee. At least he managed to start a pot before waking me up by dumping water on my face. We’ve been roommates since he graduated from high school three years ago. Our house is on the Circle B Ranch that my family owns, and most of the Bishops live and work here in some capacity too. Diesel’s originally a townie, meaning his family isn’t in the business, and though he had no real experience, he applied to be a ranch hand like me. For some reason, my dad hired his ass, and we’ve gotten into more trouble than ever. Having been raised on the ranch, I live and breathe this lifestyle and don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. Just like the generations of Bishops before me, I was born for this.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, grabbing his to-go cup and taking a sip. “It’ll go by fast since we have to leave by two. Are you even packed yet?”

“Almost. Not really sure what to bring, though. All I own are Wranglers, and I’m pretty sure cowboy boots won’t be in style.” I chuckle, remembering the story my mom told me about when she first met my dad. He showed up in Key West looking like something out of the Wild West, and my mother hasn’t let him live it down ever since. Granted, I was conceived on that trip, which means the boots didn’t throw her off that badly. Maybe I’ll take them after all. Perhaps they’ll be good luck.

“What’s wrong with Corrals?” he asks, tapping the heel of his boot against the floor. “They go with my hat. My Stetson is a total chick magnet.”

I snort and shake my head, grabbing my coffee as I walk back to my room to get ready for the day. Once I’m dressed and caffeinated, Diesel and I head to my truck. The sprawling ranch covers thousands of acres, so we still have to drive a good ten minutes to get to the workshop where we start and end each day.

By the time we arrive, my cousin Fisher is already there. His real name is Anderson, but we’ve called him by his last name since he was in junior high.

We always meet in the office to prioritize what needs to be done or fixed and make a game plan. The fridge is always stocked with drinks, and it’s become a hangout for us between tasks or when it’s hot as hell outside.

My dad manages the ranch’s day-to-day routines and organizes most of the schedules. Uncle John has run the Circle B Ranch Bed & Breakfast since before I was born, but ever since he and my uncle Evan bought a run-down bar in town ten years ago, he’s juggled both. After his oldest daughter, Maize, graduated high school three years ago, she’s been helping out more and learning how to manage the B&B so John doesn’t have to do it all on his own.

“’Bout time,” Fisher smarts off the minute we walk into the shop. He grew up in California but has spent every summer here since he was a teenager. His mom, Courtney, is my dad’s only sister. I was excited when she and my uncle Drew agreed to let Fisher help out on the ranch. He’s an ass, but he works hard, which is helpful.

He gives me a pointed look. “I was about to call and chew your asses out.”

“And I would’ve told you to kiss my white ass, Fisher,” Diesel snaps, walking toward him. “We’re thirty seconds late.”

I chuckle because it’s the same song and dance every morning. Fisher has a brother and sister back in Cali, and the three of them are triplets. When my aunt and uncle had been unsuccessful in getting pregnant, they tried IVF, then found out they were having three babies instead of just one. Fisher pretends he’s years older and in charge, but Diesel relentlessly puts him in his place. We work year-round, and even though Fisher graduated from college last year, he hasn’t found a permanent job yet, so he still helps during the summer. Grandma Bishop has told him he’s hired to work on the ranch year-round, but he hasn’t agreed to it. I think Diesel would lose his shit, though.