“Thanks for the tip.” I resisted the urge to snap back that I knew all about hard work. “I’m used to being on my feet a lot as it is.”

  “What is it you did with Maverick and his hotels anyway?” Grayson asked in what might be his first attempt at small talk with me. I smiled encouragingly, in no hurry to ride away.

  “You never saw his show?” The idea that Grayson might not know my whole story was rather appealing.

  “Not really.” Grayson shrugged. “TV’s not my thing.”

  “Maverick and I met at one of the show’s first flips.” I petted Cinder as I talked. “I’d worked my way up from front desk work to concierge and staff management roles, and Maverick used me on other projects to train staff and improve service at the properties he was flipping.”

  “I’d think there would always be demand for hotel managers like that.” Grayson sounded ready to send me back to California to look for work.

  “You’d think.” I took a breath. He might not know my story, but there was also no outrunning it. “Luckily, you missed the episode where I drove a hotel-owned van into a fountain. A very public sinking of my professional reputation. Also, Maverick’s asshole ex understandably declined to give me a reference.”

  “Understandably petty sounds like.” Grayson sounded ready to give Domnic a firm shake, which I’d pay good money to see. Grayson Campbell rising to my defense was unexpected and made my chest all warm.

  “Eh. The DUI and surrounding gossip made me a risky bet.” As much as I liked Grayson taking umbrage on my account, I had to be honest. “Domnic didn’t want to rec someone likely to fail.”

  “Are you?” Grayson took on a demanding tone.

  “Am I what?”

  “Likely to fail?” He narrowed his gaze like he could see past every barrier and wall I had. “Don’t seem that way to me. You seem stubborn as they come.”

  “Thank you.” My cheeks heated and my insides danced at the praise. “And I’m working hard on my recovery. Therapy. Meetings. Not going to fail.”

  “You need time for meetings, you let me know.” Grayson gave me another of his stern looks, but this one was tempered by a certain kindness. “You won’t be the only hand I’ve had need time for those, so you be sure and speak up.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me.” Shaking his head, he pursed his lips. “My dad was over twenty years sober when he passed on. He never missed a chance to help a fellow person in recovery.”

  “He was the foreman before you, right? Maybe this really is a second chance ranch.”

  “Suppose so.” Grayson didn’t seem inclined to keep talking about his father. “Let’s bring Cinder back around to the mounting block.”

  A childish giggle escaped my throat. “Sorry. It’s still a silly name.”

  “Think you have a dirty mind.” Grayson followed us over to the mounting block.

  “Guilty.” I met his gaze, trying to remind him of every naughty thing I’d done by the pond.

  “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?” I faked innocence.

  “Like you’re ten seconds from hitting the sawdust if I so much as lift an eyebrow.”

  “Maybe I am.” I waggled my eyebrows at him. “You should test that theory.”

  Grayson shook his head at my audacity. “Go on now. Let’s put your horse away.”

  I hadn’t truly expected him to take me up on my suggestion, but the tiny sparkle in his eyes was victory enough. I was wearing him down. Give me enough time, and he’d end up liking me after all.

  Chapter Nine

  Grayson

  As I approached the horse barn after a lengthy meeting with Maverick and the folks in charge of the ranch trust, I plodded along, steps slowing. I never would have thought the day would come when I’d welcome a ranch finance meeting, but such was my distraction level with Adler around. He was so darn cheerful about everything, from stall mucking to receiving a stack of inventory sheets. His relentlessly sunny attitude made it hard to keep him at arm’s length. Not to mention his unbridled joy at riding. He made it hard not to smile and shower him with the sort of praise he so clearly craved.

  I was decades removed from learning to ride. In fact, I couldn’t say as I remembered ever being as outwardly excited as Adler was about being on a horse. His enthusiasm reminded me how lucky we were to get to do this work. He wasn’t wrong. Riding a horse was pretty special. But with all those reminders came a deeper appreciation for Adler himself. One might even say I was coming to like him, and that simply wouldn’t do.

  “Inventory done?” I asked as I found Adler at Cinder’s stall, murmuring softly to the horse. Finding him not working meant I didn’t have to try to make my voice clipped and stern.

  “Yes, boss.” Adler bent down and retrieved a stack of papers from near his hiking boot. We would have to see about getting him some decent gear if he ended up sticking around. He held out the papers for me. “Here you go.”

  I’d handed him the inventory printouts earlier, but the ones he handed back looked closer to an art project with various colors of pen and an abundance of notes in the margins. “What’s with these colors?”

  “I took the liberty of highlighting for you.” Adler stepped closer so he could reach around me to point at the pages. Having him this near made the memory of him pressed against me in the pond come rushing back like a creek after snow melt. Despite the October chill, my temperature rose a good ten degrees, and I struggled to concentrate.

  “Did you?” I murmured, losing my stern tone by the syllable.

  “Red are items you seem critically low on or out of.” Adler pointed at each color, and I was hyperaware of each movement of his arm, the barest brush of his coat sleeve against mine. “Yellow are things that are running low or might need replacing due to wear. Blue are duplicate items.”

  Wow. He’d really gone above and beyond, and judging by his sly smile, he knew it.

  “Not a bad method,” I allowed before striding away from him to place the sheets on the desk in the nearby room that Kat and I used as office space. I gestured for Adler to follow me out of the barn. “Come on, time for chow.”

  “Good. I’m hungry.” Undeterred by my lack of praise for his efforts, Adler bounced along beside me.

  “Not sure what all Maverick’s been cooking up at the big house for y’all, but tonight, we’re having chili mac at the bunkhouse.”

  “Sounds good.” Adler grinned, but I made a skeptical noise. His grin dipped ever so slightly. “Seriously. I’m not a diva, especially when it comes to food. Ask Maverick. I ate more junk food than either of the kids at the county fair when I was here in August.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Does that sound mean, ‘I’m sorry. I was wrong, Adler,’ or something else?” Adler was not one to miss a chance to poke at me.

  “Maybe you’re not all Hollywood, but you’re still a city boy.” I pursed my lips as we walked toward the bunkhouse. He might not be a diva demanding star treatment, but I was far from convinced he’d make it out west, away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

  Adler made a frustrated noise. “You don’t give an inch, do you?”

  “Nope,” I said as we arrived at the bunkhouse door. It wouldn’t do for Adler to think I was softening toward him, even if that was exactly what was happening. Damn it.

  Most of the hands were already in the kitchen, either sitting at the table or milling around, waiting for chow. We hung our coats up on the row of hooks near the back door.

  “This the new kid?” Reindeer asked. His real name was Randy, but he’d started on at the ranch last December. His hair that stuck up like antlers and perpetually red nose and cheeks had quickly earned him the nickname.

  “Older than you, Reindeer.” I could be cranky with more than just Adler. Reindeer took life as one big joke, but I truly hoped he didn’t feel the need to hassle Adler in the hopes of getting a laugh. And I supposed it was also up to me to make introductions. “Everyone, this is Adler.”

  “Adler, you know Kat.” I pointed to where she sat at the table and then to the stove where a portly middle-aged hand stood stirring a large pot. “That’s Casey. He cooked dinner.”

  “Thanks, Casey.” Adler was all genuine charm as always. “Smells delicious.”

  “Thank you.” Casey might be close to my age, but he wasn’t above blushing. He was the best of our rotating cooking crew and frequently swapped chores to end up making our dinner. I needed to talk to Maverick about making him the permanent cook, especially if we were going to feed guests too.

  I was none too sure about feeding guests the sort of chow we usually had, but Adler and Maverick seemed convinced there were plenty of people who’d be happy to play at being a hand.

  “And then we’ve got Reindeer, Chips, Motley, Jalapeño, and Doug.” I finished the introductions, gesturing at each hand in turn.

  “You guys have better nicknames than the horses.” Adler grinned.

  “Oh, hell naw, my mama done named me Motley,” Motley deadpanned. With his shaved head and many tattoos, he looked as ready to head out on tour as he did to help with ranch chores.

  “Excellent taste.” Adler didn’t miss a beat. “What can I do to help with dinner?”

  “You wanna grab a stack of plates from that cupboard?” Casey put Adler to work, and between all of us, dinner was on the table in short order. We were our usual, lively crew at the table, and I kept glancing over at Adler to see what he thought of the coarse humor and good-natured ribbing that was dished out along with the chili mac.

  Adler, however, kept right on smiling, charming, and fitting in.

  Huh. Maybe it wasn’t only me he wanted to charm. Maybe he was nice to the whole world, nothing special about me. I didn’t like that thought, so I kept shoveling in my chili mac to avoid contributing to the conversation.

  Adler did right fine, carrying on without my help, which only made me glower that much more.

  “Tell me more about the rescue horses,” he urged Kat.

  “Not much to tell.” Kat shrugged, her long dark braid bouncing against her shoulders. “Way too common of a story around here. Someone bought a small hobby ranch above their means, discovered the high cost of hay and feed, and the horses were the ones to suffer when the ranch went belly up. Rescue stepped in, but the organization couldn’t line up a good placement, so I volunteered.”

  “As usual.” Motley snorted. He was slightly younger than Kat’s late thirties/early forties. Giving her a hard time was one of Motley’s few hobbies. “You’re too soft-hearted.”

  “I’d rather be that than foul-tempered,” she shot back. She could give as good as she got from any of the hands, but her sparring matches with Motley were legendary in the bunkhouse.

  “Like Gray,” Reindeer added slyly. I’d hired him on when we’d been desperate for hands willing to work for Maverick’s father’s below-market wages, and he was a little too fond of giving me shit because he knew I couldn’t afford to sack him simply for mouthing off.

  “Hey now.” Casey was our good-natured peacemaker.

  “It’s true.” Chips spoke up for the first time all dinner. Somewhere in his late twenties, he got along with Reindeer but was quieter than his friend. “Gray’s been pissed off ever since Maverick came up with that fool dude ranch idea.”

  “How about we don’t badmouth Maverick with his friend right here?” Casey suggested before I could.

  “No, go on.” Adler gestured with his fork. He offered a generous smile. “I’m here as one of you. If you’re not happy with the dude ranch idea, I’m not going to tattle. Heck, your complaints might help me brainstorm things that would make the idea work better.”

  “I don’t want strangers in our bunkhouse,” Chips grumbled. At least he didn’t have the spicy tortilla chip breath that had earned him his name tonight. He wore his hair in a military short buzz, and he was forever leaving his hat in places. As a result, his skin was ruddy from a summer spent in the sun. “No offense.”

  “None taken.” Adler’s good mood persisted, and I half expected him to whip out his phone to take notes. “We’re talking about other options like getting some tiny house cabins or converting one of the other buildings for guests.”

  “A bunch of bored tourists wandering around are bound to be trouble,” Motley warned.

  “So we keep them from being bored.” Adler’s earnest smile was damn hard to deny. He almost had me convinced this wasn’t a terrible idea. Almost.

  “How are we supposed to keep ’em from being bored?” Reindeer asked.

  “Chores. Activities. Outings.” Adler ticked items off an imaginary list.

  Chips made a rude noise. “Sounds like summer camp.”

  “Sounds like more work for us.” Motley rolled his eyes.

  “That’s why I’m here for the next few months.” Adler could sell umbrellas in a dry desert and leave the buyer feeling great about the purchase. “I want to figure out ways to have the guests help without being a burden on all of you.”

  “Thank you.” Casey smiled back at Adler. “Appreciate that.”

  “How can I help clean up?” Adler went for extra brownie points as folks started leaving the table. “Is there a dishwasher?”

  “Yep.” Casey was quick with the answer. “I’ll show you.”

  “At least he’s helpful,” Kat said to me in a low voice as we did our part of the cleanup and packed up the leftovers while Casey and Adler tackled the dishwasher. Others did the counters and washed the pots.

  “Yeah.” I kept my voice down as well. “He did decent with Cinder today. Don’t tell him I said that though. Don’t need him gettin’ all cocky around the horses.”

  “Of course.” Kat gave a soft, knowing laugh as we moved on to gathering up the trash to take to the bear-proof cans outside. “Can’t have him thinking he’s doing a good job.”

  “You saying I’m being too hard on him?” I dumped the trash bags into the larger outdoor can with more force than was needed.

  “He seems under your skin.” Kat leaned against a post for the overhang that shielded the trash cans. She didn’t have a jacket on, but she also didn’t seem inclined to head back in. “Most people don’t faze you. But something about Adler has you pricklier than a cactus.”

  “Don’t care for city folk. That’s all.” I wasn’t about to agree with her, let alone unpack all my conflicting thoughts. I continued to have no clue why my body—and brain—reacted to Adler like tinder to a spark. All I knew was that I had no business acting on that attraction again.

  “That’s not true.” Kat was always one to keep me honest. “You get along fine with Maverick.”

  “He’s not city.” Maverick might have spent two decades in LA, but I didn’t see him as urban in the same way that I saw Adler. And my mother—another thought I didn’t want to have right then and sure as shit wasn’t sharing. “Maverick is ranch born and raised.”

  “There are newcomers who end up sticking around.”

  “Don’t trust ’em.” A chilly wind whipped through the lean-to structure, but I suppressed the urge to shiver and stamped my feet instead. “Most end up part-timers. Gonna turn the area into another Jackson Hole. Playground for the rich.”

  “And that’s why we need to save this ranch from developers.” Kat rubbed her bare hands together. “Much as I don’t like the idea, some income from guests isn’t a terrible idea.”

  I made a frustrated noise. “You’re the one who said I could turn down having Adler as a hand.”

  “Maybe he’s growing on me.”

  She was far from the only one, which only made me that much more resolved to show Adler the realities of ranch life and keep my distance.

  Chapter Ten

  Adler

  The bunkhouse woke up at o’dark thirty. Not even a hint of sunrise peeked in the windows, and I almost fell out of my top bunk as various folks’ alarms went off. The bunk room Grayson had assigned me to was mainly used for seasonal and newer hands. This time of year, there were actually plenty of open bunks in the room, which irked me further that Grayson had given me a top bunk. Older hands, like Casey and Motley, had their own room in the rear of the bunkhouse while Kat and Grayson occupied trailers located behind it.

  Not that I would have been so blatant as to try anything around the other hands, but a peek at Grayson in a towel or whatever he slept in might have been nice. I’d showered before bed, which was a good thing as I was way too sleepy to manage one now. I carefully lowered myself out of the top bunk, stumbled to my dresser, pulled on the first items I found, and joined the other bleary-eyed hands in the kitchen.

  “Morning.” Casey handed me a cup of coffee from a large pot on the counter. The coffee was decidedly mediocre. Maverick’s taste for good coffee had spoiled me, so I resolved to gift the bunkhouse with some decent beans.

  In contrast to movies, where the mornings on a ranch started with a big fry-up, breakfast was more of a fend-for-yourself affair. A surprising number of folks went for an impressive collection of boxed cereals in the pantry, while others dug around in the freezer or fridge.

  “Nice hoodie.” Reindeer looked up from piling an alarming amount of peanut butter on toasted frozen waffles to gesture at my pastel-pink hoodie with a silver unicorn dancing on a stripper pole. “Get your sister’s laundry by mistake?”

  “Oh no!” Faking alarm, I looked down at my chest. “Thank goodness. You had me scared for a minute there, but this hoodie is all mine.” With its glittery sheen, it wasn’t my most subtle shirt, but it was a relic from an exclusive party I’d worked at my last hotel job and too fun not to pack for Colorado. Plus, on this chilly late October morning, the hoodie was warm. If Reindeer had a problem with me wearing pink, he could simply deal.

  “Gonna scare the horses.” Luckily, other than that parting shot, Reindeer went back to whatever vile thing he was doing to his waffles, adding banana and honey. I took the easier route and made myself a bowl of cereal better suited for elementary schoolers.