Grumpy Cowboy (Single Dad Collection)

Joey bounces in her seat the entire drive from our cabin, the only one in this truck who’s actually looking forward to a family dinner.

And the second I pull to a stop in front of my parents’ house, she is out of the passenger door and flying up the porch before I can even get my busted-up leg to move a fucking inch out of my seat.

“Joey, slow down!” I yell out my open door as she almost rips the screen door off the hinges in her hurry to get to her grandma and grandpa.

Two hands locked around the stiff, immovable brace, I groan and grimace as I rotate the damn thing out of the truck, prop myself against the opened driver’s side door, and ease myself from sitting to standing.

Fuck this fucking leg. I’m so sick of everything taking five times as long as it normally does. Just showering to get ready to come tonight was an ordeal and a half, and I don’t even want to think about what my schedule for tomorrow’s going to look like.

On a sigh, I start the process of limping toward my parents’ place.

I’m halfway up the porch and almost to the screen door when I spot the old Jeep sitting to the left of the house. It’s empty, and there’s no sight of the city doctor with the ridiculous high heels and curvy hips.

Did she already hit the fucking road and head back to wherever she came from?

My stomach clenches with something that feels a lot like disappointment, but I write it off as utter nonsense. There is no way in fucking hell I wanted Dr. Leah Levee to hang around here and bug me every day about my leg. I need her doctor help like I need a goddamn hole in my head.

I can’t deny, for most men, her curvy body is something dreams are fucking made of, but I don’t have time to busy myself with that kind of shit.

I have a daughter to raise and a ranch to run and a prideful son of a bitch by the name of Tex Jameson to let know how I really feel about him inserting himself into my business and hiring a doctor to take care of me like I’m some kind of fucking kid.

Fourteen-year-old boy, my mind muses, and I shake my head on an exasperated sigh.

If there’s one thing I can agree on about my daddy, it’s that he never fails to get real creative with his bullshit.

Once I’m in the house, I head down the entry hall toward a kitchen full of the kind of laughter and chatter only my mom and Joey can get into that quickly. I swear they’ve both got the gift of the gab.

I round the corner into the kitchen to find Joey bouncing at my mom’s side as she stirs a pot on the stovetop. It smells delicious, and I have to admit, I’m thankful for the fact that I didn’t have to make something for Joey and myself tonight. After all the excitement of this afternoon, my knee is sore as hell and my back aches from overcompensation.

“Tex, Rhett, take a seat at the table. Dinner’s just about ready,” my mom calls over her shoulder as she pulls cornbread out of the oven.

“Good to see ya, Rhett.” My dad offers a friendly grin my way as he gets up from his recliner in the living room, slaps me on the shoulder, and takes his seat at the head of the table.

Has he lost his damn mind? Or is he honestly getting old enough that he’s actually forgotten the shit he pulled today?

I stand there, staring at the scene before me.

I feel like I’ve been shoved into an episode of fucking Leave It to Beaver. Everyone is just acting like there’s nothing wrong with how this day has gone—like I wasn’t the center of a setup the likes of which professional criminals have never even seen.

“Sorry I’m a little late,” a voice calls from the front hall, making my back pull up even straighter.

That better not be who I think it is.

Eyes narrowed, I turn to look down the hall toward the front door and find all of my suspicions are unfortunately true.

Bottle of wine in hand, city doctor Leah Levee looks up from taking off her shoes by the door and stumbles under the weight of my hard stare.

“Leah!” Joey yells, shoving past me and barreling right into the center of Leah’s long, tanned legs.

Son of a bitch.

“Daddy, now Leah can show me how to braid my hair after dinner!” my Joey exclaims, and it takes everything inside me to force a half smile to my lips and offer a small nod.

I can feel Leah’s eyes looking directly at me, but I refuse to acknowledge her presence with eye contact. Not fucking happening. I’ve already made it more than clear to her where I stand with her being on my ranch.