The Rancher and The City Girl

By Joya Ryan

Rancher and single father Tripp Montgomery is a master at French braiding and princess tea parties. He's also the most eligible bachelor in Cheyenne, Wyoming. So when he stumbles upon a flashy, sexy city girl, he knows two things: 1) she's a walking disaster, and 2) he needs to stay far, far away.

But she needs him more than he wants to admit…

Charlotte Gram knows what it's like not to be wanted. She's in Cheyenne for the summer to help her grandmother heal after surgery, but the farmhouse "chores" are proving much harder than she thought. If her day couldn't get any worse, the sexiest man she's ever seen strolls up to save the day...

...and he definitely doesn't seem happy about it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Jun 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781640631069

Joya Ryan

National and international bestselling author Joya Ryan is the author of more than a dozen adult and new-adult romance novels. Passionate about both cooking and dancing (despite not being too skilled at the latter), she loves traveling and seeking out new adventures. Visit her online at www.joyaryan.com.

Book preview

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

If you love sexy romance, one-click these steamy Brazen releases…

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2017 by Joya Ryan. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

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Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

Brazen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. For more information on our titles, visit www.brazenbooks.com.

Edited by Heather Howland

Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill

Cover art from Period Images

ISBN 978-1-64063-106-9

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition June 2017

To T.M.

I had no idea that going to a rodeo would change my life forever. I met you in Cheyenne and eight hours later, I wrote up the plot for this book. You are the Wyoming country boy and the reason this series exists.

Thank you for asking me to dance that night.

I love you.

Chapter One

I’m home! Tripp Montgomery called out to the quiet ranch house. He hustled inside, only to get smacked in the face by the screen door. God damn it, he muttered under his breath and adjusted his Stetson.

Added to his endless to do list: fix screen door so it doesn’t bounce back in my face every time I try to walk through the damn thing.

Daddy! Gracie’s little voice echoed from deep in the house, followed by the patter of tiny footsteps running from her bedroom, through the kitchen, and into the open area of the family room where Tripp was kicking dust off his boots in the doorway.

It never ceased to amaze him how the sound brought an instant joy to his heart because he knew she was running his way.

A head of bouncing blond curls and open arms came into view. He scooped up his six-year-old daughter and kissed her cheek. Sorry I’m running a bit behind, baby girl, he said. Story of his life as the cow rancher–slash–single dad.

It’s okay. Uncle Cash played Twister with me. I won. Gracie grinned and whispered, Uncle Cash isn’t very good at bending.

Got that right, Tripp said with a smile.

I heard that, Cash said, walking into the room. His blond hair was messed up and his jeans were wrinkled like he really had been losing at Twister.

And I’m not rigid, I’m responsible, he said.

Uh-huh. Cash was one of the two friends who lived with Tripp, helping run the ranch and raising his daughter. He was the best friend a guy could have, but the man was more responsibly rigid than Tripp—and that was saying something. But the man had a past and a reckless twin brother that made him the way he was. Just like Tripp’s past and the woman who left him and their baby girl with no word made Tripp the man he was.

Neither scenario was discussed.

Tripp turned his attention to Gracie in his arms. Sorry, the cows were stubborn today. Are you ready for your troop meeting?

Gracie nodded enthusiastically. She was head-to-toe dressed in her Girl Scout uniform, except for a pair of girlie sandals she’d insisted he buy her.

Go take your sandals off and get those shiny, strappy shoes on, Tripp said and put her down.

She hustled out toward her room.

The sound of the fridge, then the pantry cupboard, opening and shutting came from the kitchen. Followed by heavy footsteps.

You’re about out of cookies, Bo said, coming to lean against the doorframe that separated the kitchen from living room. He bit into an apple and grimaced at Tripp. And you smell like the back forty pasture.

"I’m also about to kick your ass, Tripp said to his other best friend and ranch hand. I smell because I was out there moving cattle all day. Which was where you should have been. You said you had the west forty covered."

I did. Then I came back to watch Gracie while Cash ran the horses.

What happened to the sitter? Tripp asked. Because even with the three of them juggling, the nice babysitter he’d found was a lifesaver in summer. No way could they make it through their busiest season without her.

The sitter had to take off, Bo said, looking anywhere but at Tripp and running his free hand through his black hair.

Fuck.

Tripp pinched his nose. Please tell me you didn’t run off another babysitter. You keep sleeping with them and I swear to God I’ll kick your ass.

Bo gave that smile that he’d given since they were all in high school. The I may have smile that the town playboy was notorious for. But he was also a good guy, and the three of them had been best friends since birth.

Didn’t mean Tripp didn’t want to kill Bo sometimes.

Yeah, the woman was all huffy when I showed up, Cash said. Poor thing running out the door talking about Bo never calling.

You’re such a snitch, Bo grumbled and took a bite of his apple.

Just telling it like it is, Cash said.

Look, women run out all the time, doesn’t mean— Bo cut his words short, and Cash gave him a nasty glare.

Tripp just stood there. After Shania took off and left him with Gracie, it was like some switch was flipped, because they never, ever talked about women leaving. Why, he didn’t know. He was fine. Totally fine.

You’re right, women do run out all the time, Tripp said. But you run off another babysitter and you’ll be sleeping in the barn.

Bo held up his hands, one still with his apple. I get it. But why do we even need a sitter? I’m the best around and I love my little niece.

"You eat cookies and watch Frozen with her all day," Cash said.

Hey. Bo dug an Oreo out of his jeans pocket and looked between it and the apple, then tossed the cookie in his mouth. Cookies are fantastic and the ice queen is hot. There are a lot worse ways to spend the days.

Yeah, like herding cattle, Tripp said.

Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’ll cover the south forty. Bo looked Tripp over. You heading to her Girl Scout meeting?

Tripp lifted his Stetson to run a hand through his hair and put it back on. Yeah. Going to drop her off and head into town for about an hour.

You may want to change, Bo said, returning to his apple.

Cash nodded in agreement.

For fuck’s sake… Tripp grumbled and headed toward his master bedroom. Bo and Cash followed, shooting the shit as if he weren’t right there getting ready. Still grumbling, he grabbed a clean T-shirt, washed his face, and dusted off his jeans. Good enough.

Between the Girl Scout troop and cows, your social life is getting pretty sad, Bo said.

He gave his friend an incredulous look. You might have noticed I have a few things going on this summer. Like running cows and raising a daughter.

Really? Because I thought you were just afraid of women.

Your balls must be feeling pretty damn big today for you to say that shit to me.

Bo adjusted himself and grinned. Dramatic prick.

You do everything you can to avoid women, his friend pushed. Looks like fear to me.

"I’m trying to raise a woman. I’m not afraid of them."

As if on cue, Gracie came running through the house, ready to go. He never knew his entire world would be puttering around on such small feet.

That’s why I’m here to help, Bo said.

Me, too, Cash said.

Yeah, we’re just a house full of rednecks.

Lot worse things to be, Bo said, taking another bite of apple.

Tripp rolled his eyes.

Well… Bo slapped Tripp’s back. Have a great day. By the way, you still have cow shit on your boot and glitter in your hair.

Tripp took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. The shit was an occupational hazard and the glitter was from Gracie demonstrating her questionable hairstyling techniques on him with sparkly hair spray.

Forget it. He’d shower later.

You’re not staying? Tammy Jones said loudly from her perch behind the refreshments table. She was nice enough. Divorced, had a daughter the same age as Gracie, and was always helping out with the troop, just like several of the other women there. All of whom gave Tripp casseroles, cookies, and flirty gestures from fairly regularly.

Not that he was interested.

Yes, ma’am, gotta run a couple errands. He shifted his focus to Gracie, who was settling in to the troop meeting. See you in an hour, baby.

Gracie waved and went back to chatting with her friends.

Tammy must have hustled, because she headed Tripp off at the exit, batting her lashes and flicking her hair. Tripp knew what was coming next. Not because he thought he was hot shit, but because he was aware he was a single man with a child, and that often put him into settings full of women. Women who were, more often than not, sadly, also single parents.

You have plans for this weekend? Tammy asked. There’s that new movie playing at the drive-in.

The drive-in at the edge of town was the place where teenagers used to escape and make out. He looked at Tammy. Tammy looked right back at him, and he knew what that kind of look meant. Didn’t matter, though. He wouldn’t risk falling in love with a woman and watching her walk out on him and Gracie. They didn’t need that shit. If her own mama could leave them, anyone could. He’d never let that happen to his daughter again. Even if it made Bo right, and Tripp was doomed to the saddest social life in town.

Summer is my busiest time on the ranch. I’m afraid I won’t be getting to many movies.

But you’re still going to be part of the nut fry later this summer, right? There was a hint of a whine in her voice.

Did you say nut fry? Lucy France said, coming over to stand on Tripp’s other side.

He shifted away and cursed under his breath. They had him sandwiched and blocked from leaving.

Lucy pushed her breasts out a little. I look forward to that party every year, you know?

The Montgomery family had been hosting the town nut fry for the past ten years. Hosted on the part of Montgomery land that butted up against the local bar in town, ranches pitched in the food, and local vendors sold their wares.

Tripp took over the ranch, and everything that went with running it, a few years ago when his dad passed away. Including the nut fry.

Still a couple weeks off yet, ladies, but yes, the nut fry is in the works. He gave his best smile and tried to subtly reach for the door handle.

You work so hard out on that ranch, Tammy said with a bit of a pout. You should really take a break. Like a weekend day.

Wish I could, ma’am, but cows don’t know weekends from weekdays.

He touched the tip of his hat with one hand and made blessed contact with the door handle with the other.

You ladies have a good day. Feeling both Tammy’s and Lucy’s eyes bore into his back, he adjusted his Stetson and stepped out into the summer sunshine of Cheyenne, Wyoming. His home. Gracie’s home. Their life was just fine as it stood.

Although… Tripp did the mental math of the last time he’d brought a woman into his bed and ran a hand over his scruffy jaw.

Too long.

He glanced back at the Girl Scout hall and shook his head. He couldn’t do anything about his personal life because either way, he was screwed, and not in the good way. Getting involved in any way with a woman around here was trouble. Cheyenne might be the biggest city in Wyoming, but that was a relative thing. With only a few thousand people, word spread fast, everyone knew everyone, and kids went to school together. If Tripp hooked up with someone, there’d be rumors and Gracie’s friends would ask questions and…just…nope. Bad idea all around.

That didn’t make Bo right about him being scared of women, but he may have had a point about him avoiding them.

Despite the good reasons behind that avoidance, Tripp still loved women. It wasn’t just about him anymore, though. If keeping his daughter in a secure environment meant he lived more celibate than a priest and worked even harder on the ranch, it was enough.

At least, that was what he was telling himself. Until he reached his truck and his thoughts got interrupted by the sweetest voice he’d ever heard, spitting the nastiest curse words known to man.

…

You are the worst car in this hellhole town and I swear—to—God… Charlotte Gram kicked the driver-side tire of her rental car with her favorite stiletto. The dry summer air blew hot against her skin, and a