“What about after work?” I sidled up closer to him.

  “Don’t crowd the horse.” His glare could freeze half of LA. “There is no ‘after work’ on a ranch. It’s not a nine-to-five that I clock out from at the end of the day.”

  He was lying in that I’d seen the hands goofing around over by the bunkhouse after they finished their evening chores. And every western drama I’d ever seen featured poker games and beer-drinking shenanigans in their time off. I had no doubt that, as foreman, Grayson was busy, but I also had no doubt he was deliberately slamming the door shut on more time together.

  “So you save your gay impulses for trips to town?” I kept my voice sweet as honey, but my gaze pointed.

  “I don’t have gay impulses.” Grayson pursed his lips. He wouldn’t be the first “straight” guy I’d come across, quotation marks very much implied, and the denial wasn’t particularly surprising.

  Nonetheless, a frustrated noise escaped my throat. “Your dick says otherwise.”

  “And you’d be the first my dick has said yes to in that regard,” Grayson shot back. “Why that is, I have no clue. I need to do some pondering later.” He gestured to a nearby open door with his arm. “Right now, though, you can grab yourself a helmet from that tack room.”

  His bald honesty that I was his first male-male sex encounter was unexpected enough that I actually complied with the order, fetching a riding helmet from a row of hooks on the wall of the tack room. The cluttered space smelled like horses and hay, but like most everything else on the ranch, it was neatly organized with a clean, swept cement floor. None of the hands wore riding helmets, but I’d heard Maverick nag Hannah about hers before. Probably wasn’t worth arguing with Grayson over, so I put the helmet on and galloped back over, only for him to hold up a hand.

  “You need to approach the horse slowly. Keep where she can see you.”

  “And out of biting range,” I agreed as I slowed my approach.

  “Which horse bit you?” Grayson narrowed his eyes before his gaze dropped to my bare forearms and hands. “And where? How bad?”

  “Careful there, Gray. I might start to think you care.” I laughed lightly as I flipped over my palm to show a faint bruise. “It was a little bite from a horse in the pasture I tried to pet the other day.”

  “Don’t go climbing the pasture fences.” Grayson was back to the same stern voice that made my knees want to hit the ground and my dick pulse. “A lot of the stock are damn near priceless quarter horses. Fences are to keep you out as much as keep the horses in.”

  “I learned my lesson.” I made my voice all contrite, but Grayson’s frosty expression didn’t waver.

  “Somehow I doubt that.” Grayson shook his head, and somewhere in his tone was the memory of earlier, when he’d been fond of both my naughtiness and my obedience. He handed me the horse’s reins. “Now, we’re gonna lead her into the ring, right to a mounting block there.”

  I followed his instructions to move slowly and where the horse could see me, but I couldn’t help my chuckle. “It’s called a mounting block?”

  “What else would you call it?” Grayson gestured at the little movable set of stairs near the entrance to the riding ring.

  “Not that.” I giggle-snorted. “Next, you’ll show me the breeding bench.”

  Grayson didn’t so much as crack a smile, let alone laugh.

  “Fine. Don’t laugh.” I led the horse over to the steps. Magnolia had a placid demeanor of disinterest for both Grayson and me. We clearly bored her, but she seemed happy enough to stop next to the set of steps. “Now I get on?”

  “Now you get on. One foot in the stirrup, then over with the other leg, nice and smooth.”

  I followed directions, and remarkably, it worked. There I was, in the saddle.

  I couldn’t help my happy noise. “Look at me! On a horse.”

  “Look at you.” There it was. The fondness Grayson’s gaze had held right before I came. He was staring right at me, seeing me, really seeing, and lord, I wanted more of his attention.

  “This is kind of a bucket-list moment,” I babbled. “When I was little, there was this old-fashioned carousel near our house. I loved riding the horses so much, and I had a cowboy-themed birthday…”

  “Giddyap.” Grayson made a clucking noise as I trailed off, cheeks heating. “Did you now? A cowboy birthday in California?”

  “New Jersey, actually. I grew up on the Jersey Shore,” I explained as Magnolia took a few steps forward. “Not a lot of wannabe cowboys running around, but I begged my parents to go to the carousel anytime we were close to that park.”

  “Okay, cowboy, straighten your posture.” The ghost of a smile flitted across Grayson’s rugged face before vanishing again. “Sit tall in the saddle and take a loose hold of the reins. Magnolia doesn’t need much steering to take you in a circle, just like your painted ponies.”

  “You’re laughing at me,” I protested even as I complied.

  “Nah.” Grayson made a dismissive gesture as he stepped back from the horse. “My folks weren’t always much on holidays, but my fifth birthday, my mom made a cake shaped like a cowboy hat.”

  “That’s adorable. You probably had all the real horses you wanted to ride though.”

  “Eh.” Grayson was back to frowning. “Back then, I was a ranch hand’s kid living in a trailer on the edge of land we didn’t own. If I got on a horse, it wasn’t one we owned. The year I turned ten, Dad made foreman at a prior stop. Got my first horse.”

  “Best birthday ever?” I guessed.

  “You could say that.” He gave a tight nod. “Easy now, quit looking at me. Try looking where you want the horse to go.”

  “Oh my gosh, this is working,” I crowed a few minutes later as Magnolia and I made a full circle of the riding arena.

  “You’re doing decent.” Grayson shrugged like a true compliment might cost more than he was willing to pay. “Take her in a straight line now, right down the middle.”

  “Decent,” I scoffed as I followed his directions. “I might be a natural.”

  “At finding trouble,” he shot back. “Easy. Don’t turn in the saddle to sass me.”

  “Not all trouble is bad trouble.” I tried yet again for a flirty tone that Grayson ignored.

  “It is when it gets you eating dirt if you slump in that saddle again.” He gave me a stare so stern that my insides quivered. I’d do just about anything to please him, so I focused solely on my posture for several more minutes.

  “That’s more like it.” The faintest of praise, but I’d take it. “You ready to help me put Miss Magnolia to bed?”

  “Guess I shouldn’t take more of your time.” I reluctantly guided Magnolia back over to the mounting block. I managed a clumsy dismount that had me nearly colliding with the arena floor before I was saved by a solid wall of Grayson Campbell’s chest.

  “Careful now.” He guided me back to upright with a firm hand. “Can’t go hitting the sawdust until you put your horse away right. Job’s not done.”

  Grayson made work sound sexier than any date ever, and I had to do some complicated math in my head, making change for imaginary transactions, in order to keep from being half-hard the whole time we brushed and cared for Magnolia.

  “You sure you wouldn’t want to get…ice cream or something after this?” I asked, awkward as a fifteen-year-old angling for a date. A year or two ago, I would have tried to buy Grayson a beer as a thank you, but that was a no-go now. “Or dinner if you haven’t eaten?”

  “I’m sure.” Grayson gave yet another curt nod that was designed to kill my hopes of a repeat, but in fact, the more stern he became, the more I wanted him. I wasn’t about to give up yet.

  Chapter Four

  Adler

  “I feel bad that your visit hasn’t been more exciting.” Maverick was blessedly oblivious to all the ways that yesterday had been one of the most exciting days of my life.

  “Don’t apologize.” I waved his concern away. With no plans to repeat yesterday’s hike, I’d chosen iridescent jeans and a blue heavy metal band T-shirt. My sore feet were bare as we enjoyed our morning coffee together. “You’ve had a lot going on.”

  “I have.” Maverick seemed more weighed down in contrast to me. I was super energized from my adventure the day before.

  “Besides, I love it here.” I grinned wide. If Maverick was weary, maybe I could project some of my good mood his way. Today was cooler with more of a breeze, but the hot memories lingered. Even Grayson’s refusal of a repeat last night wasn’t enough to dim my enthusiasm. Moreover, I’d love the ranch even if I hadn’t skinny dipped with the hottest silver fox ever. “This is the clearest my head has felt in years. I’ve continued going to meetings in town, but sobriety feels different out here. You should start charging our other friends for the privilege of coming here to reset⁠—”

  “Say that again.” Maverick’s eyes went belt-buckle wide.

  “I love it⁠—”

  “Not that part. Charging. What if that’s the answer to the cash flow issues and our needing more hands?” Maverick stood from his deck chair to pace in front of me. “Like offering a dude ranch experience on a real, working ranch to folks looking for a reset, like you said. Get them helping with basic chores, maybe put them on some of the tamer horses…”

  “I’m down.” I chuckled, not wanting to seem too eager, but if my friend was determined to bring his hospitality industry experience to the ranch, perhaps he’d need my help. Which would mean more visits, more chances to wear Grayson down for that repeat. “Maybe I can be your first visitor once you give the ranch its makeover.”

  “It does need a fresh start.” Maverick cocked his head, eyes narrowing. “Wait. We can’t have people coming to visit Lovelorn Ranch. That sounds too depressing.”

  “Nah. It’s fine.” Chuckling, I shrugged. “Tell a few ghost stories about your pioneer ancestors.”

  “Not a terrible idea, but what if we renamed the ranch?” Maverick gestured widely.

  “What are you going to call it?” I asked right as Colt’s truck pulled into the driveway. Colt was the sheriff and also had something going with Maverick, so I knew Maverick’s attention span was about up.

  “Second Chance Ranch.” As soon as Maverick said the words, the name simply sounded right, and I grinned my approval.

  “I love it.” I stood from my chair as well to clap Maverick on the shoulder. “Let’s brainstorm more later. I’ll let you have a few minutes alone with Sheriff Sexy.”

  “He’ll hate that nickname.” Maverick groaned, but his cheeks went bright pink. He was more serious about Colt than I’d seen him be about anyone, including his ex-husband.

  “Which is why I use it.” I grinned. Colt had rather clearly been jealous the first time we’d met, so teasing him was fun. “Same as Foreman Foxy.”

  Maverick whistled like I’d cursed. “Grayson might roast you over a campfire if he heard you say that.”

  “I’d take the risk.” I headed back into the house as Colt and his daughter Willow exited the truck. Heck, if it got me more of Grayson Campbell’s stern attention, I’d get Foreman Foxy tattooed on my arm inside a big heart.

  The thought of how exactly he might punish me for the nickname sustained me until after Colt left with Willow and Hannah. Maverick found me sprawled on the wicker couch in the sunny front room that had likely once been a formal parlor.

  “I’m going to need your help with the Second Chance Ranch project.” Maverick rubbed his hands together, clearly in love with his big idea.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” I grinned up at him. “Brainstorm now or after you get back from the hospital?”

  “More than brainstorming.” Maverick spread his palms wide. “I need you to think about staying and helping me with any dude ranch guests.”

  I hadn’t wanted to assume, but in between fantasizing about Foreman Foxy, I’d tried to manifest a reason to stay longer. This idea was perfect, but I’d wanted to avoid volunteering and risking Maverick turning down the offer. Relief at not having to beg Maverick to hire me coursed through me and made my grin that much dopier.

  “I am a concierge in between jobs.” I took a stab at playing hard to get so I didn’t reek of desperation. “I suppose I could consider moving out to help.”

  “Would you miss LA? Your support system there?” Maverick asked. Oops. Maybe I’d sold the whole disinterest thing a little too well.

  “Honestly, I think I’m due a break from arrogant LA tourists and friends who liked me better when I was using.” I used a more humble tone.

  “Fair enough.” Maverick nodded at me, eyes more cautious than when he’d first come into the room. My mention of sobriety was likely to blame, but it was a part of me now. I was done pretending I wasn’t an addict, even if it meant Maverick adopting a more measured tone. “We can work out more of the details after I’m back from the hospital. I need to run the idea by Faith.”

  “Good luck.” I waved him on, but it wasn’t long until I was bored with the house to myself. I made a fresh batch of coffee for the fridge, cleaned the coffee maker, and marinated some chicken so we could grill tonight. The girls had eaten all of my prior batch of cookies, so I whipped up some lemon crinkles that seemed to match the hot weather.

  After I set the cookies on cooling racks, the midday sun tempted me to go swimming again. But the chances of getting lucky twice were slim, and it was a long, hot hike to the pond. However, getting out of the house might do me well. If Kat, the stable manager, was at the horse barn, maybe I could brush Magnolia or give her a treat. What I was decidedly not doing was hunting down Grayson.

  However, he found me anyway, standing beside the pasture closest to the horse barn, daydreaming about my ride the night before. Kat hadn’t been at the barn, and Magnolia was in this paddock with some of her fellow horse friends.

  “Thought I told you no petting the horses.” Grayson ambled up beside me, limp more pronounced than on some days. He had on a black cowboy hat and sunglasses, likely in deference to the blazing sun, not fashion, but the sight alone was almost enough to get me half-hard.

  “I know when to keep my hands to myself.” I held up my hands, prickles of frustration making their way into my tone. Why I could be perfectly charming with the rest of the world and struggle with this man, I had no clue.

  “Do you?” Grayson gave me a pointed look that only made me that much more determined to get a rise out of him.

  “Ask me nicely, though, and I’ll put them anywhere you want,” I purred at him.

  “Adler…” Grayson shut his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose before opening them to blink wearily at me. “I done told you.”

  “Yep.” I gave him my best unrepentant grin. “You did.”

  Grayson’s hand flexed like maybe he was tempted to throw me over his shoulder again. A boy could dream. Grayson sighed heavily and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

  “You the one who put this whole dude ranch idea into Maverick’s head?”

  “Nope, he had that brainstorm all on his own.” Thank God. I was delighted at the prospect, but it wouldn’t do for Grayson to think I was that eager for a second chance at his cock. “I’m happy to help.”

  “You wanna leave your fancy LA life for this?” He narrowed his gaze at me. Maverick must have moved fast if Grayson already knew about him asking me to stay on.

  “You mean my SIM-card tiny apartment? My lack of job prospects? Friends waiting for me to fall off the wagon?” I glared at him, frustrated more with myself for losing my cool than at him for the question. “Absolutely. I’m ready for a change. I’ll need to go back to pack, but if Maverick wants me, I’m excited to be part of this venture.”

  “Suit yourself.” The way Grayson pursed his mouth made it clear he had lots more to say.

  “If you want to ask me not to move here because it might be awkward between us, you need to use your words, not just glower and hope I’ll guess.” Wow. Look at me being all direct. My therapist would be so proud, even if it took the most confounding man on the planet to get me there.

  “I’m not worried about awkward.” Grayson waved a hand as he scoffed. “Just don’t go idealizing Colorado living. I’ve seen plenty of people out here struggle with sobriety. Not just an LA problem. Long, cold, lonely winters get to a person. And as for the other, I told you, one-time deal.”

  “So you did.” I regarded him coolly, unmoved by his concern for my sobriety. “And I’m not sticking around for you. Don’t flatter yourself. I want to help Maverick make his idea a huge success.”

  “A bunch of tourists tromping all over the ranch is a recipe for disaster.” Grayson shook his head at me hard enough that his cowboy hat dipped. He shoved it back in place. “How in the heck are we supposed to do our jobs and entertain them at the same time?”

  “You put them to work.” I grinned, trying to find my usual charm. “Let them experience the fun of working on a ranch.”

  “This ain’t a theme park.” Grayson was anything other than charmed. “Sooner you realize that, the happier we’ll all be.”

  “One person’s work is another’s delight. Sooner you gain perspective, the happier you might be,” I shot right back. So much for being charming.

  “It’s all fun until it’s three a.m. in freezing temps with a complicated breech foal, vet can’t make it, and you gotta be ready in two hours for feeding the hands and assigning chores, no matter what happens.” Grayson dropped each word like a barbell hitting the gym floor, weighty with memories, and he snapped his jaw shut as he finished to glower at me.

  “Wow.” I wasn’t going to admit that he might have a point about me idealizing cowboy life. New Jersey got snow, too, but the only times I’d seen three a.m., work had definitely not been involved.

  “Look, you don’t choose this way of life. It chooses you.” Grayson’s sharp eyes seemed determined to poke me in every small, soft, secret spot. “You and Maverick wanna have your rich friends come play rancher, that’s on you, but at least have a little respect.”