The Cowboy’s Grumpy Assistant (Perish Prosper Cowboys #1)

Prologue

PENNY

“More champagne!” a voice calls over the crowd.

I make my way to the bar, grabbing the two buckets I have stowed underneath.

Before I can pop the corks off, people are already pressing their glasses toward me, eager to be the first served.

I remove the foil, loosen the wire cage, and twist. With the soft pop comes cheers from the crowd.

“This is taking too long,” a blonde woman huffs, rolling her heavily makeup-ed eyes. She’s one of the few women not wearing cowgirl attire, opting for a low-cut, v-neck dress that hangs near her belly button, showing off her enormous fake boobs.

I give her my fakest smile, and she flashes her Hollywood-white teeth in a distasteful sneer. Two friends standing behind her snicker their distaste.

There are always a handful of women like her at Crimson Crest’s parties. Those who know what the brothers are worth and trek out here dressed to the nines to get their attention.

Sometimes, it works.

I pour the first bottle into the waiting glasses and move to the second. As I go to twist, the blonde reaches forward, grabbing the bottle.

“Give it to me!”

I jerk the bottle away, but she has it by the neck and won’t let go.

“You’re taking too damn long,” she hisses.

Annoyed, I jerk it away two more times, but as it’s pulled from her grasp, the cork pops, launching into the blonde’s Hollywood smile.

The crowd gasps.

“Shit!” I blurt, knowing I’m in a heap of trouble.

Hollywood’s hand flies to her mouth, and she gasps. Then, she pulls it away, revealing two missing front teeth.

“Yew bitthhh!” She launches at me, her nails biting into my flannel-covered shoulders.

My arms flail at her, landing a few slaps, but her friends are on me, pulling my hair and ripping my flannel open.

“What the hell is going on?” Greyson Prosper’s bearish voice shouts over the excitement.

The women lift off me, each grabbed by one of the Prosper brothers.

“My office—now!” Greyson shouts, pointing an emphatic finger towards it.

The women are guided away by the brothers, each telling them how terrible and jealous I was acting.

As I sit up, hands looping under my armpits, lifting me to a stand.

I jerk away, furious. “Hey!”

“You too, Penny,” Greyson barks.

“But—”

“My office—now!”

Grumbling, I obey, annoyed that I’m being treated like a common criminal when I bend over backwards to keep the ranch running.

Penny the Planner is what they call me, and it’s a title I’ve earned because I account for everything.

Once we’re inside Greyson’s office, he slams the door shut and slowly, methodically, walks around his desk, taking a seat.

Wade, Duke, and Clint are waiting with the women, leaving only Axel and Ryder to manage the crowd.

Amazingly, the six brothers work seamlessly together, like a well-oiled machine, each knowing their part and not deviating from the mission.

That cohesion is what launched Crimson Crest Ranch into a billion-dollar empire that shows no hint of slowing down.

With a grave expression, Greyson says, “What the hell happened out there?”

Hollywood points at me. “Fire thif wofan! And mafe her pay for my teef!”

I can’t help but chuckle at her mispronunciation, which only ignites her fury further.

One of her minions steps forward, looking from Greyson to me. “She attacked our friend!”

“Oh, yeah?” Greyson says, leaning back in his chair.

The minion points at me. “She was being rude, rolling her eyes at everyone, and when Bunny tried to intervene, she attacked.”

Greyson nods. “Yep, that sounds like Penny.”

My jaw drops.

“You could see the jealousy seeping from her oversized pores,” the other minion adds.

“Oh, come on!” I huff, glaring at Greyson. “Don’t tell me you actually believe them.”

Without looking at me, he asks, “What exactly happened?”

“She shook the bottle, pointed it directly at Bunny, and shot her with the cork.”

Greyson lifts his brow. “That sounds like battery.”

“Are you flipping kidding me?” I snap, looking to each of the brothers for support.

Wade, the jokester of the Prosper brothers, smirks. Clint and Duke remain stoic.

“Of course, your dental work, along with your hardship, will be covered by Crimson Crest Ranch, provided your story checks out. But these are serious allegations, ladies, and I’m gonna need to know if you’re willing to testify in case Miss Penny brings us to court for the unlawful termination of her contract. ”

“Of course,” a minion says. Bunny and the other minion nod eagerly.

Greyson leans back and smiles. “That’s good to know, but lucky for you, you won’t have to.” He lifts a remote, presses a button, and a screen in the upper corner of the room comes to life, showing the party being played in reverse.

“Oh, shit!” a minion curses under her breath.

“Ah, right here!” Greyson exclaims, hitting play.

On the screen, Bunny grabs and yanks the bottle several times, causing the cork to launch at her teeth.

Greyson hits pause and scratches his head. “Well, gee whiz, that’s not at all how you said things went down.”

Tears stream down Bunny’s face. “Pay for my teef?” She points at her mouth.

Greyson shakes his head slowly from side to side. “No, I don’t think I will.” He looks at Duke. “Escort them from the property and make sure they never set foot on Crimson Crest land again.”

“As you wish,” Duke says.

“Oh, and make sure you circulate their pictures to all our affluent friends, warning them of their antics.”

The women plead for mercy as the brothers take them away.

When we’re alone, I sigh with relief. “You had me worried for a moment.”

The corner of Greyson’s lips tugs into a smile. “I’m sorry about that, but I couldn’t resist letting them hang themselves. If they’d been honest, I would have paid for her stupid teeth, but I don’t tolerate lies on my ranch.”

“I want to call you an asshole and chew you a new one, but honestly, it was worth it for the looks on their faces.”

Greyson frowns, his handsome features contorting in dismay.

“Is something wrong?”

He grabs a bottle of whiskey and a glass from the shelf behind him, pouring more than he typically does. Then, as though just realizing I’m still present, his eyes scan up to mine. “Care for a glass?”

Under the heat of his gaze, it’s like the entire world falls away. Which is nothing new to me. It’s how it’s always been.

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “Sure.”

He grabs another glass and pours in a splash, then slides it over to me.

We clink our glasses together and drink. I wince at the strong flavor, and he chuckles.

“Is that your first drink ever?” he asks.

“No,” I say shyly.

He licks his lips and pours himself more, but leaves my glass dry, thankfully, because I don’t think I could say no to Greyson Prosper.

Ever since he hired me three years ago, rescuing me from the shambles of my life, I’ve been caught under his spell.

I know a part of it is because I feel he saved me, but the fact that he’s undeniably handsome contributes to my small obsession.

He downs another glass, then pours more into his cup.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, sensing something is off.

He exhales a long breath. “I’m just…tired.”

“Well, you hardly take a day off, so that’s understandable.”

“Yeah, that must be it.”

I notice his eyes are glassy and wonder how much he’s had to drink.

Too much.

Knowing there’s a party going on outside, I walk around the desk and take the glass from him, but just as I’m about to set it down, Greyson’s enormous hands are on my hips, pulling me onto his lap.

“Hey!” I drop the glass and it shatters, splashing whiskey across the floor.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his arms relaxing. “You’re free to go.”

I don’t get up. There’s something in the air. An addictive little sensation caused by the enormous bulge pressing against my rear that I refuse to run away from.

“I said I’m sorry, Penny.”

I don’t want him to be sorry.

Instead of leaving, as I should, I undo the buttons of my flannel that weren’t yanked open, then reach inside to pull my tank top and sports bra up over my breasts.

I feel his cock lurch, but when he does nothing else, I take his hand and guide it to my breast.

“Fuck me,” he mumbles under his breath. “They never looked this damn big when I watched you walking around the ranch—and believe me—I look.”

Interesting revelation.

“I wear a tight sports bra so the guys don’t ogle me.”

He squeezes, and a strong pulse livens at my core. I swallow a thick lump in my throat, trying to fight away the dizziness that’s trying to overwhelm me.

“So…you look?”

“Every damn day.”

I bloom with pride at his confession.

He reaches down, sliding a hand under my rear to undo his pants and free his erection.

All at once, this whole situation becomes a lot more real. This isn’t just any handsome man. This is Greyson Prosper—my boss. The man who saved me.

His hand dances across my flesh, making the air in his tiny office feel scorching hot.

“May I take down your pants?” he whispers, his voice thick.

I should say no…

Instead, I undo the belt, button, and zipper and wiggle them down, leaving only my thin cotton panties between us.

He grabs my hips and starts thrusting, pushing up against me, his big cock pressing against my clit and making me moan.

“Grey…” I cry in desperation.

He pauses, his hands falling from my hips. “You need to get the hell out of here before I do something we both regret.”

A part of me knows I should obey.

A louder, more nagging part demands I stay.

And because the squeaky wheel gets all the grease, I wiggle atop him, seeking precious friction.

“Fuck…” he rasps. “I won’t be able to stop if you don’t let up.”

“Good.”

He takes that as permission and explores my body, sending shivers up my spine. I want to explore his, but this is all new to me, and I’m too nervous.

He kneads my breasts like dough. I’ve always been self-conscious of them, because my areolas are so large, but Greyson doesn’t seem to care. If anything, he’s thrilled by them.