Grumpy Hearted Cowboy (Not Looking For Love #2)

Chapter 1

Cyrus

Today feels extra brutal. I don’t know what is going on with the sun, or why it’s decided to be such an asshole today, but I’d appreciate it if a cloud or two rolled in and gave me five minutes of relief.

Hell, even a light drizzle would be welcome if it didn’t lead to hellish humidity.

My clothes are already clinging to my skin as it is.

Maybe once I finish this task, I can spend some time over at the watering hose. Drench my head for a few seconds to catch some relief.

The next strike of my hammer hits harder than the previous, but misses the nail entirely and leaves a half-crescent dent next to my thumb.

Blinking away the sweat clinging to my lashes, my next hit strike doesn’t miss.

Once these fixes are taken care of, just need to tend to Stripes’ pen before the day can finally be over.

Behind me, a low moo resonates from my usual audience. After another hit, I feel hot breath against my neck in a heavy snort.

“If you assholes stopped breaking it, I wouldn’t have to come out here all the time, now would I?” Swatting my hand behind me to make sure an accident doesn’t happen, I get another moo in response before the cow behind me backs up, kicking at the grass as if in argument.

Moving from one post to another down the line, I hear a wave of barks in the distance. Too far out, I’ve got no clue what Meatball is up to, but I write it off as her chasing a squirrel up a tree or something close to it.

After getting three sides of the pen done, getting hit with a wave of dizziness tells me it’s about time I take a break. Just a quick one. The last thing I need is to start falling behind now.

As I approach Stripes, tucking my hammer into my belt, I hear another set of barks. These sound different from the previous ones. Far more excited than usual.

“What in the world is she up to?” Muttering the question under my breath, the horse snorts, hardly giving me much of an opinion on the matter. “Let’s go see what’s happening.”

Pulling myself up, I start making my way toward the house.

The trot is nice. Gives me time to get a little air against my flushed skin.

Not wanting to scare any of the cattle as they graze, I fight the urge to gallop the rest of the way.

Close enough to search for the Aussie, something else catches my attention.

Something that immediately makes a frown crease my lips.

Someone’s standing in front of my home, staring up at the building.

She’s got her hands folded behind her back as she tilts her head back.

Brown hair catches the next forgiving breeze, and I stare for a minute as the strands whip to the side, showing off a floral summer dress.

Painted gold with white flowers wrapped around her hips and the hem brushing her knees, I’m forced to blink, wondering if this is a mirage from dehydration.

I don’t get company often, so when someone shows up at my doorstep, there’s usually a reason. Most of the time, it leads to a headache.

Meatball, the terrible guard dog she is, rests on her stomach as she stares right along with the stranger, that tail wagging back and forth.

Shaking my head before I get too caught up in the view, I’m tearing off my gloves and scowling as I hop off of the horse.

I’m going to have to have a talk with that dog, especially when I just got done scolding her for welcoming the last woman who strolled by.

Makes me believe they’re one and the same.

Especially with the way they’re appreciating the outside of my home.

Olivia Price. The realtor who knocked on my door with a proposal to put this place on the market.

My efforts must be bad enough to be pitied down to that point.

Word must be getting around that the ranch isn’t doing as well as it once was.

Well, I’m still here, aren’t I? It’s doing fine enough to get by.

She’d taken my refusal with a polite smile and promised to give me some time to think about her offer. And here I had hoped she would have given me more than a week to come up with another way to say no.

Reaching the woman, I can’t help but let out a low growl of frustration. “Now, Mrs. Price, I thought I made it quite clear that I’m not selling—”

The stranger turns at the sound of my voice, and I can instantly tell that this woman is not who I think she is. She doesn’t look like a realtor at all, in fact.

This woman looks like an angel. She’s glowing like the sun itself, or maybe my eyes really are playing tricks on me.

Then I notice the luggage at her feet, already collecting a layer of dirt on the bottom.

Oh, this beauty must be lost. While there aren’t too many places out here for her to go, there’s no way she should be here at my ranch.

Another graceful gust of wind hits us both.

While I’m blinking away sweat, that summer dress flutters against her legs, and like the bastard I am, I don’t just take a quick glance.

I stare as it lifts high enough to tickle her knees.

This woman is young, too young for someone my age to be drinking in the way I am.

Instead of feeling shame, I’ve got something else stirring deep inside of me.

Not recognizing it, I don’t even know what to call the feeling.

But it has its claws deeply embedded inside of me, demanding I do something about the space between us.

The thought of kicking her out is way past away from my mind.

All I can think about is how to convince her to stay.

I should really get some water in my system. This is bad.

“Cyrus Kane, right?” The sweetest, softest voice I’ve ever heard leaves her lips as she tucks some of those brown strands behind her ear. “Am I at the right place?”

For a moment, I wonder if she’s one of those mail-order brides I hear about popping in town and on the mountain.

Haven’t heard much from any of my neighbors, but I wouldn’t be surprised if one of those lucky fools had this woman searching for them.

But instead of saying any of their names, it’s mine.

The confusion clashes with the growing hunger.

“Depends who’s asking.” Forcing the words out, it sounds like I’ve swallowed a mouthful of the same dirt under her sandals. “What do you want?”

Despite my roughness, her mouth curves into a soft but blinding smile.

Stepping toward me, I get hit with a rush of vanilla icing.

Like she’s spent her entire afternoon soaking up the scents of the local bakery, kind of sweet.

Far different than the animals I work with.

Suddenly, without warning, she thrusts her hand out.

“Millie Vegas, at your service.” Her mouth curls higher as mine moves lower.

Her hand is pale and clean. Just thinking about touching her with mine, my skin covered in god knows what, has me keeping mine right against my sides.

Realizing I’ve got no intention of meeting her, her laugh is like music to my ears.

“This is embarrassing. My dad said he’d talked to you. Please tell me you know Jerry Vegas.”

The name snaps me out of my daze. I’d just heard his voice a few weeks ago when he’d called me, making such a ludicrous request out of the blue. One I couldn’t say no to. Not when I owe that fool for too much during our younger years.

He mentioned his kid was old enough for college now.

Something about her being on the fence about becoming a veterinarian.

Pleaded to let her stay and figure out what kind she wanted to be.

Hoped spending some time with animals would help clear the fog because she couldn’t make up her mind.

Offered to pay for her room to gain some experience over the summer.

Even during these rough times, I wouldn’t take a penny. Not from him.

The conversation is a little fuzzy, but I remember clear as day the last photo he showed me of her in his wallet was a snot-nosed kid in a Halloween costume.

This woman…

“You’re all grown up.” Forcing the words out, those pale cheeks turn rosy. “You’re earlier than expected.”

“Just two weeks shy. Call me eager.” Nudging her luggage with her foot, she sways to look at my home. “I hope you don’t mind.”

I do. Sharing space with this woman is already going to be hell. I can tell. After the thoughts that were just filling my mind, I may as well be a monster. I can’t let myself think this way about an old friend’s kid, even if she is all grown up.

“Take a seat on the porch. I need to finish up my work. Once I’m done, we’ll get you settled in.” Jerking my chin toward the chained bench underneath the shade on the porch, I take a step back so I don’t risk getting any cavities by breathing her in. “Be an hour at most.”

Instead of groaning or complaining like I expect to, she just smiles and nods. Picking up her luggage, she spins on her heels and easily drifts away. Meatball trails right after her, already getting attached to our new guest.

A feeling deep inside urges me to follow behind.

This woman is half my fucking age. Barely old enough to be accepted into college. Whatever it is forming in my gut, I’m putting a stop to it right here and right now before it grows into something I can’t control.

* * *

We don’t spend too much time looking around my home as I lead her inside. She’ll have plenty of time to do whatever exploring on her own. Stopping long enough to clean up the dirt staining my skin, I lead her to one of the guest rooms.

After taking this place from my parents, I’ve got a few rooms to spare now that all of my siblings have moved out and taken their own life paths. None of them tried to stick around, not that I blame them. The ranch life isn’t for everyone.

“I don’t get guests too often.” Entering my sister’s old room, the smell of dust lingers. “I would’ve cleaned up a little better if I knew you were coming early.”

Millie doesn’t seem to mind. Stepping past me, she looks around and eyes the bed while I set her luggage by the closet.

If I have to guess, she’s probably wondering why there are fifty decorative pillows covering the blanket on the bed.

Abigail had a weird obsession with decorations, and thankfully, she took most of them with her when she turned eighteen.

I couldn’t find it in me to ditch what she did leave behind.

As she sits on the bed, she scans the paintings on the walls and the objects on the shelf.

Whatever she’s thinking, I don’t have a clue.

But if I had to guess, this isn’t like anything where she came from.

Last I heard from Jerry, he’d moved to Hawthorn Hills and settled comfortably in the city.

Half of her life must’ve been spent on city streets and in packed traffic.

Fancy coffees and the like. This ranch is going to be a shock for her.

Between her feet, Meatball claims the small patch of floor and settles down without even batting an eye. Millie must’ve snuck her a treat or something to win her over this easily. I’m getting a bit jealous here.

“This is perfect.” Returning her gaze in my direction, I feel warm as she stares at my stomach before dragging her eyes up to my face. Her smile is too innocent to leave me feeling this way. “Thank you for accommodating me.”

There it is again. My damn heart is doing whatever it wants in my chest, beating at its own pace. What in the hell was Jerry thinking when he sent her my way? Talking through occasional text messages and phone calls to keep in touch is one thing, but this kind of trust is undeserved.

If he were smart, he’d knock some sense into me and take her back, far out of my reach and out of my mind so I don’t have to think about her anymore. Though even if she left this very moment, the damage has been done. She won’t be leaving my mind any time soon.

Tearing my eyes from her now is the best decision I’ve ever made.

Giving her some space, I head to the door.

“The bathroom is across the hall. I’ve got to clean up, so you’ll have to get used to sharing.

” Keeping my eyes forward instead of looking back, I clear the lump that forms in the back of my throat.

“May as well settle and get comfortable now. Tomorrow, we’ll jump straight into the basics.

I don’t cook big meals, so eat as you please.

Help yourself, and if there’s anything you need, I’ll make a grocery haul at the end of the week. ”

Making sure I check everything off in my head that needs to be addressed, I consider laying out a list of rules for her to follow.

Just whatever it takes to keep her out of trouble.

Her dad would kill me if she got hurt. As I recall, he’s always been big on family. Even a scraped knee would rile him up.

“Mornings start early, so be prepared. First days will be rough but—”

“Cyrus?” Saying my name so sweetly, it takes effort not to let it show. “I have an idea of what I’m getting myself into. Now, I don’t want to hold you up more than I already have.”

The problem is that I don’t want to leave in the first place.

Giving the woman a nod, I force my feet to move and leave her to figure things out herself.

She’s not a kid, a fact I keep reminding myself in the back of my mind.

It’s not rocket science. Whatever she’s here to discover about herself, be it animal care, or whatever the hell would make her want to stay here with a stranger, I’ll let her do it as she pleases and hope her stay will fly by in the blink of an eye.