Rancher’s Reverse Harem Sway (The Sinful Ranchers #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Geraldine

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the rack of silk blouses I’d spent all morning steaming.

The boutique smelled like lavender and leather, a mix of my latest candle order and the new purses I’d unpacked yesterday.

My assistant, Hazel, was humming some pop song by the register, tapping her nails on the counter while she scrolled through her phone.

It was a slow Tuesday at Glover’s Closet, my little empire of curated fashion, and I was bored out of my mind.

“Geraldine, are you alive over there?” Hazel called, not looking up from her screen.

“Barely,” I said, tossing the steamer wand onto the table. “If one more customer asks me if we carry skinny jeans, I’m going to lose it.”

She laughed, finally glancing my way. “You’ve been saying that for months. Maybe it’s time to hire someone else to deal with the denim crowd.”

“Yeah, and let them ruin my vibe? No chance.” I stood up, stretching my arms over my head.

My back popped loud enough to make Hazel wince.

At thirty-four, I shouldn’t feel this creaky, but running a boutique solo most days was taking its toll.

I walked over to the full-length mirror by the dressing rooms, smoothing my hands over my hips.

The black wrap dress hugged my curves just right, but I caught myself frowning at the tired lines under my eyes.

Too many late nights ordering inventory, too many early mornings fussing over displays.

Hazel slid her phone into her pocket and hopped off her stool. “You need a break, Geri. A real one. Not just a weekend binge-watching reality TV with a bottle of rosé.”

“I don’t need a break,” I said, turning away from the mirror. “I need a customer who appreciates a good wide-leg pants.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re obsessed. And it’s killing you. When’s the last time you left town? Or, I don’t know, did something fun?”

I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off with a raised hand. “Don’t say the fall festival. That was six months ago, and you spent half of it texting me about a shipment delay.”

She wasn’t wrong. I’d built this place from nothing, quit a soul-sucking retail job five years ago, cashed out my savings, and turned a dusty storefront into something I was proud of.

But lately, it felt like the boutique owned me, not the other way around.

I sighed, leaning against the counter. “Fine. What’s your big idea, then? ”

Hazel grinned, like she’d been waiting for this. “A vacation. A real one. Somewhere warm, somewhere you can wear those flowy dresses you’re always pushing on people. Maybe even meet a hot stranger or two.”

I snorted. “Hot strangers? What is this, a rom-com?”

“Why not?” she said, crossing her arms. “You’re single, gorgeous, and way too good at telling people what to wear. Go live a little. Get out of this city for once.”

“I can’t just leave,” I said, gesturing at the shop. “Who’s going to run this place? You?”

“I’ve been here three years. I can handle it for a week. Two, even.” She smirked. “Unless you don’t trust me.”

I glared at her, but she just kept smiling. Hazel was good, great actually. She knew the inventory almost as well as I did, and the regulars loved her. Still, the idea of stepping away made my stomach twist. “I don’t know. What if something goes wrong? What if something happens?”

“Stop,” she said, grabbing my shoulders. “Nothing’s going to go wrong. You’ve got your phone. I’ll call if the place burns down. Which it won’t.”

I chewed my lip, staring past her at the rack of blouses. They’d sell fine without me hovering. Maybe she had a point. “Okay, say I do this. Where am I even supposed to go?”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I’ve got the perfect spot. My cousin went to this ranch town last summer, Costa Solara. Said it’s all wide-open fields and cowboys and this cute little downtown. Hot guys everywhere.”

“Cowboys?” I raised an eyebrow. “I’m not exactly the cowgirl type.”

“You don’t have to be,” she said, pulling out her phone again. “Look, I’ll send you the website. They’ve got cabins, horseback riding, and a diner with killer pie. Total escape vibes. And it’s warm this time of year, perfect for your wardrobe.”

I crossed my arms, skeptical. “Sounds like a lot of dirt and sweat. I’m more of a rooftop-bar kind of girl.”

“Which is exactly why you need this,” she shot back. “Shake things up. Wear something sexy, flirt with a rancher, and get some sun. You’ll come back with stories, and maybe a tan.”

I laughed despite myself. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re going,” she said, already typing on her phone. “I’m booking you a cabin. One week. You leave Friday.”

“Friday? That’s three days from now!” I grabbed her arm, but she shook me off.

“Exactly. Gives you just enough time to pack and freak out, but not enough to back out.” She hit send with a flourish. “Done. Check your email.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out, staring at the confirmation. Costa Solara Guest Ranch. Seven nights. Nonrefundable. “Hazel, you’re insane.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, smirking. “Now go home and pack. I’ve got this place covered.”

I shook my head, still holding the phone.

Part of me wanted to argue, to list all the reasons this was a terrible idea.

But another part, the part that was sick of steaming blouses and arguing about skinny jeans, felt a flicker of excitement.

A week away. No emails, no shipments, just me and some random ranch town.

Maybe Hazel was right. Maybe I did need this.

“Fine,” I said, shoving the phone back in my pocket. “But if I come back covered in hay and regret, it’s on you.”

“Deal,” she said, clapping her hands. “Now, let’s talk outfits. You’re going to need something hot for those cowboys.”

I groaned, but she was already dragging me to the rack of dresses, pulling out a red number I’d been saving for a special occasion. “This,” she said, holding it up. “This screams ‘I’m here to have fun.’”

“It also screams ‘I’m trying too hard,’” I said, snatching it from her.

“Then pair it with boots,” she shot back. “You’ve got those tan suede ones. Casual but sexy. Perfect for Costa Solara.”

I held the dress up, eyeing it. She wasn’t wrong, it’d look good, especially with my curves. “Okay, fine. But I’m packing my black swimsuit too. If I’m doing this, I’m lounging by a pool at some point.”

“There’s no pool,” she said, laughing. “It’s a ranch, Geri. Closest you’ll get is a watering hole.”

“Great,” I muttered. “I’m going to smell like a cow by day two.”

“You’ll survive,” she said, nudging me. “Now go home. I’ll close up.”

I grabbed my bag from behind the counter, still half-convinced this was a mistake.

But as I stepped outside into the gray city air, I felt a tiny spark of something, curiosity maybe.

Costa Solara. Ranchers. Open fields. It was about as far from my normal life as I could get.

I walked to my car, picturing myself in that red dress, boots kicking up dust. Hazel’s voice echoed in my head: Flirt with a rancher.

Get some sun. Yeah, right. I wasn’t the type to fall for some cowboy fantasy.

I’d go, I’d relax, and I’d come back ready to tackle the boutique again. Simple.

By the time I got home, I was already digging through my closet, pulling out dresses and scarves and those suede boots Hazel loved.

My suitcase sat open on the bed, and I tossed the red dress in first, followed by a stack of tops I’d never find an excuse to wear here.

I paused, glancing at my phone. The email from Costa Solara stared back at me, promising “rustic charm” and “authentic ranch living.” No mention of hot strangers, but Hazel’s enthusiasm was still ringing in my ears.

“Fine,” I said out loud, zipping the suitcase shut. “One week. Let’s see what you’ve got, Costa Solara.”

I flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. The boutique could survive without me. Hazel could handle it. And me? Maybe I could handle a little adventure. I grabbed my phone and texted her: You win. I’m packed. Better be worth it.

Her reply came fast: Oh, it will be. Get ready for the time of your life.

I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.