Grump’s City Girl (Boots and Heels #2)

4. Beau

Chapter 4

Beau

L ooking at the gaggle of people around me, I wondered if I had lost my goddamned mind.

At first, it had been the quickest way to get the ranch out of immediate debt. But now, like in movies, I’d felt like I’d signed a deal with the devil for immediate gratification, and now I was paying for it.

This was so seedy.

Sadly, I would have to play into it.

I never associated with the kind of guys living in my home. I never knew punk rock guys, computer tech guys, or Ad execs. I didn’t know what it felt like to stand on stage or page through books on a desk for a living, so I could never hold a conversation with them. Micah, Jonas, and Emory were guys I could get behind.

Besides those guys living everywhere from Montana to Colorado and Texas, we all knew the strain of laboring under the sun, how it felt to rope a bull until you felt like your arm was about to pop out of its socket, and what it was like getting up at dawn and going to bed at midnight.

They knew me and where I came from. The others did not.

Huffing under my breath, I knew that someone flinging drinks into another face was the tip of the long slope this train was chugging down—and soon, it would get off the rails altogether. The theatrics were bound to get worse from here on.

I didn’t like drama, not on TV or in real life, but here I was, about to add to it.

“Jesus, what have I gotten myself into?”

Craving air, I headed to the stables and saddled my horse. Even though this show was being filmed here, my men and I still had jobs to do. Working with cattle and horses wasn’t a fancy job. It meant hard work, night calls, long days in the countryside, and shit everywhere, but me and my guys endured.

When Bran saw me, his eyebrows shot up. Instantly, his eyes flickered over my shoulder. “Bossman, are you allowed to be here?”

My mouth flattened. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You do have a TV program to shoot, remember, just over yonder?” he said. “Are the big men behind the cameras going to allow you to take off whenever you want?”

“As far as I know, they’re getting footage for promo shots,” I replied while giving him an eye. “They’ll be going around, filming the land, the town maybe, and shit like that.

"I won’t be needed for a while, and besides, when we agreed, it was starkly noted and agreed upon that I would be attending to the ranch even while doing… whatever convoluted shit they want from me.”

“Okay then,” Bran nodded. “We’re tending to the south pasture today where the foals are. I don’t think?—”

The creaky barn doors screeched open, and Cassie walked in, nearly tripping over the patch of unlevel flooring all we guys knew how to avoid. She found her footing and, with a wary eye to Bran, approached me. “Hey, can we talk?”

I nodded curtly. “Bran, this is Cassie, another contestant. Cassie, Bran is one of my ranch hands.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said, wrapping her arms around her middle. The arms of her oversized sweater and the neck made her look tinier than she was.

Bran, like the charmer or possible jackass he was, put on the moves, bowing and doffing his hat. I rolled my eyes and returned to saddling my mount before Bran said, “Could you possibly be the most enchanting woman I have ever seen?”

“You’re a charmer,” she said indulgently.

“Are you Breaker’s partner on the show?” Bran asked.

“Breaker?” Cassie asked a second before she shot a look at me. “They call you Breaker? Why? Is it short for heartbreaker, perhaps?”

“Horses, missy. I break stubborn horses.” I snorted. “I’m not a heartthrob to be breaking hearts all over town.”

“You got that right.” Bran grinned.

“Shut it,” I growled.

“And he’s the right one for it, too, because he’s also as stubborn as a mule,” Bran added wickedly.

“For that, you are on muck duty for a month,” I said calmly while tightening a girth. I then looked at Cassie. “Can you ride?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I’ve had equestrian lessons.”

“Oh good,” I grunted, finding a mare and her saddle. “Fancy horse jumping. You’re quite the cowgirl in the making.”

“Are you always this pleasant?” she drawled sarcastically. “A complete riot act.”

While Bran left the stable, cackling his fool head off, I mentally added another month of mucking shit to his slate. When he left, I turned to her. “I suppose you want to get our story straight? About our breakup and how much of an asshole I was to lure you back to me?”

“Something like that, yeah,” she said while inching closer to my horse. I could see the delight on her face when looking at the animal; this woman loved animals. I could see it, and I appreciated it.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Twenty-six,” she replied. “May I touch her?”

“Sure,” I nodded and took her hand to rest it on Sweetie’s neck. “I’m twenty-eight. Maybe we met in college?”

“I went to Ivy League,” Cassie replied.

“Of course,” I sighed. “Which one?”

“Columbia,” Cassie replied. “But I did my master’s at the University of Pennsylvania.”

I nodded. “We do rodeos up there. Maybe we met at one of them.”

She snuck a look at me. “And was it a fling or a one-and-off thing? I was there for two years.”

“Long-distance,” I said. “That would make more sense. I do have a ranch to run, after all.”

“And how did we break up?” Cassie asked. “Did you cheat? Did you have a double life? Did you have a football team of kids around?”

I slid her a look. “What would be the worst transgression for you? One you would never forgive?”

“Lying,” Cassie nodded. “I despise liars. Maybe you made me think you were some big-shot billionaire who owned massive ranches, jets, and properties worldwide. But by and by, I unraveled your lies.”

Grabbing a spare saddle from the shelf, I saddled another horse. “And what would make you decide to give me another chance?” I shot a look at her feet. “Can you ride in those heels?”

She twisted a leg, “They’re one-inch wedges.”

She could have told me a line of quantum physics equations, but it still wouldn’t make a difference. I didn’t know shit about women and their heels. Well, except that those six-inch stilettos made a woman look killer sexy.

“I think you’ll know best,” I said. “Need any help up?”

“Nah, I got it,” Cassie grasped the saddle horn, stuck her boot into the stirrup, and swung herself into the seat like a pro. Damn, I was profoundly impressed.

“Tell me, what would make you stay with a dirty, pathological liar like me?”

She looked at me. “I know how kind and sweet you are, helpful and decent.”

I whirled the horse around, and we headed out. “Not decent enough to be straight with you.”

“You’re struggling with it,” Cassie replied. “A lot of guys don’t like to be seen as gentle or sensitive and prefer to be macho.”

“You’re making me out to be a bad guy?” I huffed.

“You are the bad guy.”

“But couldn’t I have cheated on you or something more normal?” I replied. “The story these producers will want to show the world that would get lips flapping. Something more fire and brimstone?”

“Ummm,” she hummed as we came into the outdoors. “Let me think.”

As we headed to the forest trail—one of many—a trio of birds flew overhead, and the breeze rustled the leaves of an oak tree that stood sentry in the garden. I plucked a spare hat from my head and dropped it on hers. “Don’t you go burning your pretty skin out there.”

Our eyes met, and something… something I couldn’t define simmered between us.

Gently, I retracted my hand, and we went off, me leading us onto a trail that led up into the ranch's rolling hills. The morning was cool and crisp, with a light breeze that sent the grass rippling in waves before them, with the sounds of birds above and the burbling creek not too far off.

“Do you have a lot of horses?”

It felt strange to make small talk, but what else was there?

I glanced over at her again. “We do. We have a beef production gig and a stud program for our business. Then, there are the cow horses the guys and I ride,” I explained.

“But more than that, this ranch has potential even with its poor state. Well, I have plans for its potential. We have a bunch of trail horses that I want guests to ride, and there are places on the ranch for celebrations, weddings, and receptions. With some work, maybe a campground for kids.”

“So…” Cassie looked around. “Let me ask you something. When you came up with this idea for the reality show, what were you hoping for? What did you imagine might happen?”

“That I’d crawl out of a deep, dark financial hole.” I looked around. “I inherited this ranch at the ripe age of twenty-four from my grandfather. The books were a mess, and when I figured them out, I realized that the place was drowning in debt.

"I had to let fifteen of the twenty guys go, send half the ailing bulls to pasture, and focus my manpower on the usable pastures. We had to let the east and north ones go. The show injected some cash into the place, fixed up a lot, gave me the capital to pay the guys, but—” I grimaced. “—I feel like I need to take constant showers while I am here.”

Cassie laughed. “It is sleazy, I’ll give you that. I guess there are times you’ve got to walk on the wrong side of the tracks to get to the better side, you know?”

I eyed her. “And what does a good girl like you know about the wrong side of the tracks? You probably never jaywalked in your life.”

She tilted her head up. “You’d be surprised.”

We slipped into silence while the horses leisurely walked down the trail until it started up a gentle incline. The horses’ hooves clattered over the rocks and bits of wood and branches. The trail was narrow, weaving through the brush until we reached a plateau and meandered through Green Ash and Elm trees.

Dotted through those trees were golden Quaking Aspen. Their stunning smooth cream bark and stunning golden yellow leaves that shivered and shook with soft and pleasant sounds as the wind blew them were like beacons in the mass of green. It was so peaceful and lovely.

Cassie had a loose hold on the reins, her whole body undulating with the slight swaying and repetition of her horse’s calm, sure steps. The trees opened, and the mountains were visible once more. The white peaks were miles off, capping the uneven stacks of ragged mountains.

“Fire and brimstone, huh…” Cassie said. “What if I’d been on the road one night, my car skittered off the road, crashed into a tree, and knocked me unconscious? You came upon the crash before the leaking gas exploded the car and yanked me out.”

A laugh burst from me. “What TV shows have you been watching, missy?”

“Too many to count,” she replied with a laugh. “Was that too much, though?”

“Way too much,” I said. “We met in a coffee shop after one of the rodeos.”

“Where I spilled my coffee on you,” she said. “Like on your crotch or something, and I took you to a dry cleaner where they fixed you up. I told you I was a student at the university, and you told me you were a rich rancher.”

“Where I assumed you were poor when it’s the other way around,” I said, eying her. “You know it’s true, so don’t even deny it. That guy of yours is clearly a fancy driver, slash butler, slash bodyguard.”

“It’s true,” Cassie said.

The morning was cool and clear, with bright sunlight streaming through the leaves of the trees lining the trail. Insects buzzed in the grass, and birds darted through the tree branches at breakneck speed.

I didn’t ask what kind of money she came from, new or old, and it didn’t mean anything. I was surprised that she wasn’t snobby, though. Women like those tended to look down on people like me, sneering at the dirt on my jeans or the scruff on my boots, but Cassie didn’t do either.

Maybe I was fooling myself, but her looks were lingering and slow, appreciative. Was she as attracted to me as I was to her?

Secretly, I drank in the delicious sight of her; her now dark hair in a short cut, long legs in tight jeans and boots, a baggy cream shirt that didn’t disguise her big tits, and dark green contacts that masked her hazel eyes, high cheekbones, a tiny nose, and those plump rose lips, made for kissing and sucking cock.

I suddenly dug my heels into my horse's side, and the unexpected thought ran through my mind. Sweetie was not pleased.

“Sorry, girl,” I whispered.

Her ears flicked up at me before she started walking again.

Christ almighty—it couldn’t have been that long since I’d gotten some action… could it? I tried to remember that last time I’d met someone—zip—talked to a girl—nil—danced with a chick… zilch. I grimaced. This was not good. I was twenty-eight, not ninety-nine. When did my life start and end with my work on the ranch?

Fragmented memories of when the guys would try to pull me into town, to this bar, or go to a club a town over flitted through my mind.

I’d always say no.

“Fuck my life,” I grumbled.

Running a 17,000-acre ranch with 300 bulls, 15 foals, and five stallions with only five guys was complicated enough. We were all double-timing it, with me triple-timing it sometimes. The other guys didn’t manage the books.

When did my life become eat, sleep, work, wash, and repeat?

“Was this a year ago?” Cassie asked. “Six months? Two, maybe?”

I was jarred back to the issue at hand. When had we broken up? “Six to eight months. Wait, when does UPenn hold graduation?”

"For me, it was May,” she replied. “Last year.”

“It’s March now, so it’ll be ten months, enough time for you to have moved on and still hate me. In that time, you graduated and moved halfway across the country.”

“Yeah, heartbreak will do that,” she replied.

Knowing our time was limited, I steered down a trail that took us back to the ranch, and this section was wide enough to ride side-by-side. “Have you ever truly fallen in love, Beau?”

My head snapped to the side. Why was she asking me this? “No,” I replied honestly. “Never had the time for it.”

I expected her to laugh at me—what man in his twenties had never had a relationship strong enough to have fallen in love at least once? Well, she was looking at him. A few hookups here and there did not make a relationship. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I wanted one.

“I don’t blame you,” Cassie replied as the tips of the ranch house came into view from the slope. “The hype around it is ridiculous, you know. And these TV shows and books make the expectations even worse.”

“If it ain’t about fixing a motor or when to plant for these bulls I got, then I am a bobcat on the moon,” I replied.

We hit the flat and were heading on when a damned rabbit broke through the underbrush and right into Cassie’s horse’s legs.

I knew Poppy had a good head on her; I’ve seen snakes rear up, and she hardly jolted—but this time, she beat the odds when a goddamn lynx rushed out, chasing its prey. She was startled when the lynx ran in between her legs. She danced, nostrils flaring, reared back, and took off.

“Shit!” I cursed and sped after her.

The horse was in a mood, breaking into a full gallop—but Cassie… I’ll be damned. She turned into full jockey mode and was racing with the horse.

She wisely gave the horse its head, not strangling it with the reins or yanking it for Poppy to stop until the mare began to calm down to a trot. By this time, we’d neared the pastures my men were in, and I spotted Ron and Freddy staring at her with their mouths open, horses idle.

She leaned back and gently got the horse to walk and soon, Poppy stopped to duck her head and munch on some grass.

I don’t think I’d ever been so impressed in a long while.

Cantering up to her, I circled them and admitted, “I suppose those fancy lessons made good in the end, huh.”

Cassie grinned. “That was fun.”

Hopping off my horse, I extended my hands to her, and she took the help down. I removed my hat from her head and added, “We’ll make a cowgirl out of you yet.”

She pulled away and grasped the reins. “We’ll have to if we want to survive this thing.”

Entering the main house, I found the camera crew… gone. Not one big black camera was in the dining room or the extended living room. Breathing out in relief, I headed up to my office to get some work done, but the second I got a cup of coffee in hand and plunked into the chair—all I could think about was Cassie.

I honestly didn’t know if I had lucked out with her, or if I had put myself in ten feet of trouble.

She was in the class of a socialite but did not act like a snobby one. She rode like a cowgirl but spoke like a princess. I didn’t know which world to put her in. It felt like a miracle how she had dropped into my home and walked into my life when I needed it most.

The producers had been haranguing me to choose one of the girls to be my partner, and I had flat out rejected all of them. The city girls were too citified for me to make a connection with, and the country chicks were too countryfied to make a difference.

And then came Cassie.

“What did I see in her that made me choose her?” I wondered while shuffling some papers. “Desperation, maybe?”

Why had I even asked? That was it.

I’d been running out of time with the producers breathing fire down my neck to choose someone, and seeing her so confused, staring at Liliana, I’d made a swift decision. One I hoped would not bite me in the butt.

“Getting kicked off is the best way to make sure we survive this shitshow,” I muttered.

Making it look like we had been a couple had leaped over sanity and landed in insanity town, but everyone knew about our ‘relationship’ now, so Cassie and I had to play off of it.

I got the books out and was at ease with the numbers. Months ago, I’d drunk coffee pots by the dozens trying to wrangle these suckers in order, but now, I only needed a cup.

In under half an hour, I closed the books and headed out to meet the rest of the contestants. Surely, the producers would have something for us today. I found the other thirteen outside, near the stables, with three strange horses—two of them looked mean as fuck—lined up, and hosts were standing beside them.

“What’s going on?” I asked, while from the corner of my eye, I spotted Cassie entering, looking mystified as well.

Quentin fixed his glasses. “Riding challenge. Us country ones are going to give the city-slickers tips on how to ride before we’re all sent off to race down the length of that paddock down there.”

I blinked. “Oh.”

Liliana came around, clipping her headphones on, and spotted me. She grinned—and something shivery went up my spine. Turning away, I asked Quentin, “Why are there only six horses instead of seven?”

“Because,” Liliana approached me and held up a handheld camera. “You and Cassie are not participating in this one—” she clicked the damned thing on, and I saw clips of Cassie racing with the horse, looking like a Queen Amazonian on a horse.

In the next clip, I was following right behind her. “You two are too good for this one, so the directors have given you immunity for this week.”

“Immunity?” I echoed. I was sure I sounded like I didn’t know what it meant, but I damn well did. Shit, damn, and double fuck. I had already promised Cassie we would get kicked off this week so she could have her vacation or time away in peace. “But—why?”

Liliana snapped the recorder shut. “Because you two will be fan favorites when the trailer and the pilot air. Why would we give our meal tickets a send-off too early? So, sit back and watch the clusterfuck that is about to happen.”

I felt Cassie brush my arm. Sinking my fingers into the hair behind my head, I gave her a regretful look. “You heard?”

“Most of it, yeah.” She gave a soft smile. “Don’t worry about it, Beau. I can survive another week.”

Good for her, but the thing was… I was not so sure about me.