Dear Rodeo (Naughty Notes #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

LOLA-MAE

Granite Falls.

The sign comes into view. I can’t believe I’m really here. The seven-hour drive felt like a lifetime, but I made it. I honestly can’t believe I’ve actually done it. I’ve never been one to travel at all, let alone in the winter.

But a new year calls for a new life—at least that’s what Shandy says.

I’ve never done anything this wild before—driving halfway across the state of Texas to work for a man I’ve never met, in a town I’ve never been to … never even heard of. But here I am, and my stomach clenches and flip-flops as I think about all the things that could go wrong.

My best friend, Shandy, made me agree to this. She even packed my bag and filled my gas tank for me. She essentially physically pushed me to get out of my comfort zone and do this.

To change my entire life.

To flip it upside down, reverse it, and throw caution to the wind. All things I would never, in a million years, do on my own. And yet, here I am, pulling into this town just a few days before Valentine’s Day, in the dead of Texas winter, which only lasts for about three weeks, but still.

When the RV park I worked at in Marro was sold, all the tenants were evicted, and I was laid off so a developer could build an apartment complex. I couldn’t even imagine what I would do for work.

It’s not as if the booming metropolis of Marro, Texas, with a population of 1,641, had many opportunities just open and waiting for me, or anyone else, for that matter.

Plus, there’s the simple fact that I barely have a high school diploma. And no money to take classes at the community college to train for a different type of career. I felt extremely scared, stuck, and alone.

Shandy did a whole online resume thing for me one night while we were drinking a bottle of wine. I think she got tired of me whining about being jobless and almost penniless. The next morning, I had a message from a rancher in Granite Falls who needed an office manager.

He offered me a fully furnished foreman’s home as one of the benefits, which sounded less scary when I accepted. Now that I’m here and about to move onto a ranch with some guy I don’t even know… it’s a little intimidating.

But two weeks later, and here I am, driving into a town I’ve never heard of, to live on a ranch I’ve never been to and work for a man I’ve never even met.

Crazy.

That’s what I am.

Crazy.

HARLAN

Staring at the piles of paperwork on the desk, I know I’ve done the right thing. The woman who had been running the office walked away without any notice and left me with a bunch of shit I don’t even know how to get started on.

I’m not sure she even did much to begin with, so it was probably for the best. I have a feeling she collected a paycheck, and that’s about it, because the piles of papers my grandma left on a side table haven’t even been touched.

How I haven’t lost the whole thing by now, I don’t know.

Beckett Cooper, who runs a different ranch in town, told me to go online and see if I could find anyone looking for work.

I didn’t want to hire anyone local. I know everyone in town, and I didn’t want to deal with that.

I want someone who doesn’t know my family or me, someone who can just do the job and go home.

When I found Lola-Mae Noble, it seemed like the perfect fit. She’s from West Texas. She’s just been laid off from managing a trailer park because the owners sold it. I figure if she could manage that, she can manage my cows and me.

Standing at the window, I look out at the drive and watch as a piece-of-shit 4Runner slowly drives down the dirt road. I’ve never seen it before, but I logically know that it must be her. Nobody else would drive down my road.

I’m not sure what she looks like. Only her name. The foreman’s cabin is all set up for her. I hired one of the cleaning companies to come in and make it nice for her arrival. It’s nothing fancy—a bedroom, a bathroom, a small dining room, a small living room, and a smaller kitchen.

It’s just enough for one person. I know, because I lived there when I was in my early twenties and needed my own space. My mom and grandparents gave me more responsibility, managing the ranch and the cattle, and I got the foreman’s cabin. I thought I was the shit.

When the 4Runner stops in front of the house, it pulls me out of the past and brings me back to the present. I decide I need to go out there and greet her. I’m going to have to talk to her here and there anyway; might as well break the ice right now.

My feet move through the house toward the front door.

I tug it open and step out into the warm sunshine.

The humidity has taken a vacation for a while, and we’re experiencing our false spring.

It’s in the high sixties, clear, sunny, and absolutely fucking perfect.

Next week, we’ll probably face an ice storm.

The car door slams, and I flick my gaze up to meet hers as she walks around the hood of the vehicle, stopping as soon as her eyes meet mine. I hear her breath hitch from where she stands.

She’s stunning.

“Miss Noble?” I call out.

Her tongue slides across her bottom lip, her wide eyes focused on mine. “Mr. Blackmoore?” she asks.

My lips twitch into a smirk as I close the distance between us. She’s beautiful, too beautiful. If I’d looked at her picture first, I wouldn’t have hired her. The last thing I need is someone I’m attracted to being so close. I should have done a bit more research.

It’s going to be hard as hell to work near her every day and not taste her.

“You can call me Harlan. Let me get my quad, and you can follow me to your place so you can settle in.”

She smiles, but I don’t give her the chance to respond. I walk swiftly toward the covered passageway beside the garage and jump on my quad, starting the engine with a roar before I turn it around and drive toward the front of her car.

Then I guide her down her drive, which is just past my house and about a quarter of a mile down the same dirt road. The small house comes into view, and I can’t help but think that this is probably the worst decision I’ve ever made in my entire life... Then again, it’s probably the best, too.

Maybe having someone I want to fuck but can’t will be a good test of my control. It’ll either make or break me, that I can be sure of.

After pulling the quad in next to the covered parking spot that is designated for her, I climb off, watching as she parks her oxidized car beneath it. I don’t know if the thing has been covered a day in its life.

She climbs out of the front seat, closes her car door, and then looks around at the land in front of her. I find it interesting that she doesn’t look at the house. She’s focused on the land in the distance.

“It’s different than West Texas,” she says, observing aloud. “Prettier.”

I agree with her, but I don’t say that. I don’t want to be rude, but West Texas doesn’t hold a candle to Hill Country. Instead of saying any of that, I let out a grunt. Crossing my arms over my chest, I dip my chin down slightly. She turns her head, her eyes finding mine over her shoulder.

Slowly, she turns around to face me, her green eyes never leaving mine. I don’t know if she’s waiting for me to say something about the land. I know it’s pretty. No, it’s fucking beautiful. It’s been in my family since the nineteenth century.

“I’ll show you to your new home,” I say with a grunt. With each passing moment, I’m regretting this more. I’m not sure my control and resolve are going to hold up. Her lips curve up into a smile, and she dips her chin slightly.

Walking past her, I make my way up to the front door, reach for the handle, and twist it before I push it open. It smells like cleaning chemicals, so if nothing else, at least it smells clean.

As I step inside, I wonder what she’s going to think of the place. It’s not anything fancy; it’s clean but plain. Just a simple home for someone working on the ranch. Over the years, we’ve had a lot of different men living here, but I think she’s the first woman.

“Unpack, settle in, and come to the main house for dinner. It’ll be ready by seven.”

I walk out of the house and don’t look back, even though every fiber of my being tells me to do just that.

I don’t.

My granny always prepared a dinner for the first night someone moved into this house, a little tradition she started, and I don’t know why, but it felt important to continue. I don’t think I’ve ever hosted a dinner before, and I know it’s just us, but I’m nervous.