Grumpy Cowboy (Single Dad Collection)

He raps his knuckles against the closed door three times, and it’s followed by a husky male voice responding, “C’mon in!”

“I’ve got the good doctor here, Tex.” Tiny opens the door and gestures for me to step inside.

A large desk that looks like it took three giant trees to make sits in the center of the room, and behind it is an older but handsome man who matches this lodge to a T. His skin is tanned, his face is clean-shaven, and his aqua-blue eyes are downright striking. Wrinkles form around his lips when his gaze meets mine, and his mouth crests up into a friendly grin.

“Dr. Leah Levee,” he greets, and the way he says my name makes me feel a genuine welcoming. “I’m Tex Jameson,” he continues and stands to his feet, holding out a hand to shake mine. I step forward and accept the affable gesture.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jameson. And please, just call me Leah.”

His grin grows. “And you just call me Tex. Mr. Jameson makes me feel too damn old.”

I smile. “Okay, Tex.”

“What cabin are we puttin’ her in?” Tiny asks.

“Three.”

“That’s a great cabin, Doc,” Tiny comments. “Clean, spacious, and with a great view of the cliffs. I reckon you’ll feel right at home there.”

And I reckon it’s going to take a lot for a girl like me to feel right at home in a giant, away-from-most-civilization ranch like this, but I keep that snarky thought to myself and just offer a simple, “That sounds great.”

“Okay, Doc. Tex will take it from here,” he adds over his shoulder as he walks back to the door. “I’m gonna be headin’ on my way, but I’ll make sure your bags get to your cabin, ’kay?”

“Thank you so much, Tiny.”

He heads out the door and back down the hallway, and Tex motions for me to take a seat across from him.

I adjust my dress and sit down in the thick leather armchair positioned in front of his desk.

“Glad you could make it,” he says and sits back down in his cozy desk chair. “Did you have any trouble gettin’ out here?”

I shake my head. “Mr. Kaminsky was nice enough to lend one of his planes.”

“One of his planes.” Tex smirks. “That bastard has more money than he knows what to do with.”

I want to say that from the looks of it or the fact that he’s paying me a lot of money to stay out here for the next two months and help his kid recover from his orthopedic injury, Tex Jameson also has a lot of money, but I figure that’s a little too forward of a comment for someone I just met mere minutes ago.

So, instead, I just smile.

“Well, darlin’, I can’t deny your job might come with some difficulties.”

I quirk my brow. “Difficulties?”

“My son, Rhett, well, he can be a bit of a stubborn mule,” he begins to explain.

“Well, Tex, I’m sure I can handle it. I worked at Salt Lake Regional for three years and handled a lot of pediatric ortho cases. Tough boys are my specialty.”

“That’s good.” A laugh jumps from his throat, and a smirk follows. “Because my son Rhett is definitely a tough boy. I take it Frank gave you the lowdown on everything?”

“Somewhat,” I answer. “I know Rhett is fourteen and recovering from a patella fracture and patella tendon tear. I also know he had surgery four weeks ago.”

“Fourteen?” he questions, and his face scrunches up in amusement. Instantly, I’m confused and tilt my head to the side.

“Is your son not fourteen?”

Tex just laughs and shakes his head. “Well, some days, he can act like he’s eighteen, even twenty-one on a good day.”

I grin at that. “Teenage boys can be difficult.”

“Teenage boys. Young boys. Grown boys. All ages of the male species are difficult, darlin’.”

“You won’t find me denying that one.”

Tex chuckles. “I can already tell, beneath that pretty exterior, you’ve got some fire and sass about ya. That’s certainly gonna come in handy when it comes to dealing with Rhett.” He leans back in his chair and takes off his hat, tossing it onto the desk. “Can you promise me you’ll stick it out for the full eight weeks? Even when Rhett is givin’ you a hard time?” he queries. “Dr. Namath thinks, with your hands-on help and expertise, two months is a long enough recovery duration to get a stubborn jackass like my son safely back on his feet. Which is the whole reason you’re here. If left to his own devices, he’d never get back to one hundred percent.”

Jackass.

Stubborn.

Giving me a hard time.

Sheesh. How bad is this kid?

I’m picturing all sorts of temper tantrums and spoiled brat nightmarish scenarios.

But I’m also picturing the generous paychecks these eight weeks will provide and the fact that I’ll be able to pay off my student loans and get on my boss’s good side in the process. I may have been hired as one of the Slammers team physicians, but I’m currently only second in line. One day, I want to be the number one. Calling the shots. Making the decisions. Running the whole show.