Grumpy Cowboy (Single Dad Collection)

He makes it look so easy.

Like anyone can just pick up an ax and slice through a log without breaking a sweat.

He’s like the cowboy version of the Incredible Hulk. Only replace the green with nothing but rippled muscles beneath smooth and tanned skin.

It’s safe to say I’m starting to understand just how physically capable Rhett Jameson is.

When I first met him, he was hobbling around on an injured leg.

But now that he has several weeks of recovery under his belt, his physical prowess and unbelievable strength are proving to be downright mind-blowing.

It’s also insanely fucking hot.

Yeah, that too.

Sheesh. Someone get me a fan. A cold washcloth. Something. Because it feels a hell of a lot hotter out here than eighty degrees.

July 16th, Friday

Rhett

At a little after six, I step inside the lodge and find balloons and streamers and family and friends and staff and this weekend’s ranch guests chatting in small groups throughout the space. Along the wall beside the large fireplace sit a few long tables covered with catered food, courtesy of the ranch kitchen crew.

A big banner reading Happy Birthday, Leah and Joey! hangs proudly across the mantel.

Everything is ready to go, and for some strange reason, I’m nervous as hell.

For a man like me, being nervous isn’t really something I waste my time on. Years of riding broncs and putting myself in high-risk situations taught me to push any worry and concern out of my mind and focus on the things I could control.

But right now, everything that was in my control is done.

And all I’m left with is unease over Leah’s reaction. I know my Joey will eat up this birthday bash like cake, but Leah? I’m not so sure.

She has no idea that, with the help of my mama and a few ranch staff, I’ve put together a big surprise joint birthday party for her and Joey.

No idea that I had Sam and her two closest friends Carla and Taylor fly in for the big night.

She doesn’t know anything.

Right now, she’s back at my house, helping Joey put the finalizing touches on her redecorated room—courtesy of all the shit she bought my daughter at Target the day she brought home that little fucker Ernie—and she thinks I’m going to pick the two of them up in about thirty minutes to come eat a quiet birthday dinner at my parents’ house.

I have no idea what she’s going to think when she steps into this lodge and sees what I’ve done. And the uncertainty of it all, for once, feels all sorts of uncomfortable.

It’s because you fucking care about her, you dense bastard. A lot.

“You planned quite the night, son,” my dad remarks, and I look to my right to find him standing beside me with a big-ass grin on his face. I also don’t miss the bottle of beer in his hand.

“Thanks,” I answer but then glance down at the contraband beverage. “Mama know about that?”

Ever since he got back home from the hospital, both my mama and Leah have been watching him like a hawk. His medications, his diet, his activity, pretty much everything he does is being scrutinized like it’s an application for a job at a nuclear bomb storage facility.

“Hell no, she doesn’t know.” He slices his eyes toward me with a knowing stare and points an authoritative finger. “And she don’t need to know. It’s just one beer. It’s not gonna kill me.”

I let out a quiet wolf whistle and shake my head. “She finds out you’re sneaking booze, and she’s gonna have you sleepin’ outside. Pretty sure Leah will be ridin’ your ass, too.”

He points the tip of his bottle toward me. “Which is why this stays between me and you. We’ve bonded now, remember?”

I semi-snort. “I won’t say a fuckin’ thing. But I’d like to suggest you maybe try harder at keeping it under wraps before we both end up buried where nobody’ll ever find us.”

He lets out a deep sigh. “I swear, I can’t take a shit without Jenny or Leah finding out.” He lowers his voice to a mocking rendition of a woman. “How many loafs did you pinch off today, Tex? Were they hard or soft?” He shakes his head again with a groan. “Jesus.”

I chuckle at that. “Well, I’d like to show some sympathy, but see, a while back, my daddy hired a doctor to come out to the ranch to ride my ass about my leg. So, I’m sure you can see where I’m torn between feeling bad for ya and wantin’ to celebrate.”

“Touché, son. Touché.” A hearty laugh pops from his lungs, and he reaches out to wrap a firm arm around my shoulders. “You know, now that I’ve got two women nagging me about my fuckin’ salt intake and blood pressure and the damn heart pills my doctor prescribed, you’d think I’d feel some regret over bringing Leah out to the ranch, but I can’t seem to feel anything but relief that she’s here.”