Page 37 of Tame Me Daddy

When we finally parted, his eyes were dark with desire held in check by respect. "Good night, Cherry," he said softly.

I didn’t want to leave, but somehow, I managed. Something told me tomorrow would be an interesting day.

Chapter 6

I dragged the back of my hand across my forehead, smearing sweat and dirt together in a cowgirl's makeup. The late afternoon heat pressed down on the southern pasture like a heavy blanket, but I didn't mind.

A week had passed since I'd signed that contract with Grant—a week of stolen glances, brief touches, and the kind of tension that made my skin prickle every time he walked into a room.

Out here, with Maya working beside me checking water troughs, I was just another ranch hand doing her job. And damn if I wasn't getting good at it.

"This one's running low," Maya called, her voice carrying across the dusty field. She adjusted her bandana, the bright orange fabric a splash of color against the muted tones of the ranch. "Should we refill now or mark it for tomorrow?"

"Better do it now," I replied, already reaching for the hose. "Forecast says it'll be even hotter tomorrow."

Meeting with Grant had become a careful dance. Professional distance during daylight hours with meaningful glances across the mess hall at dinner. Sometimes, after the ranch had settled into nighttime quiet, I'd slip into his office where we'd explore our dynamic behind closed doors—his voice dropping to that tone that made me melt inside, his hands firm as they guided me to my knees.

It made me tremble just to think of it.

I fixed the connection on the water trough, feeling a small burst of pride when it held tight without leaking. A month ago, I would've had to ask for help. Now my hands knew what to do.

This morning, I'd managed a whole herd rotation by myself. Ryder—who never gave praise easily—had nodded approvingly as I guided the last steer into the north pasture. Even the otherhands had started treating me differently, like I'd finally earned my place. Not just the city girl playing cowboy anymore.

"You're getting the hang of this place," Maya said, echoing my thoughts as she secured the gate on her side of the trough. "Those horses have started looking for you in the morning."

I smiled, pleased at the observation. Animals knew when you belonged somewhere, often before you knew it yourself.

Back in my bunkhouse room that morning, I'd made a small but significant change. The wooden horse figure Grant had given me now stood proudly on my nightstand instead of hidden in my drawer. The carved animal with its strong lines and knowing eyes caught the morning light, a daily reminder of who I was becoming. Of who I'd always been, beneath the layers of hiding.

I was closing the last gate when I heard the rumble of an engine. Looking up, I spotted Grant's truck appearing on the dirt road that cut through the southern fields. My heart did that stupid little flip it always did at the sight of him. I smoothed my hair back, knowing it was pointless. After a day's work, I looked exactly like what I was—dusty, sweaty, and about as glamorous as a pregnant sow.

The truck pulled to a stop about twenty yards away. Grant stepped out, his tall frame unfolding from the driver's seat with that easy grace that made my mouth go dry. His Stetson cast a shadow over his eyes, but I could feel his gaze on me as he approached. He wore his usual work clothes—jeans, a button-up with the sleeves rolled to expose tanned forearms, and boots that had seen years of ranch work. Nothing special, nothing different from what he wore every day. So why did my pulse jump like this was the first time I'd seen him?

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Maya discreetly drift away toward the equipment shed. Close enough to maintain propriety—we were never completely alone during work hours—but far enough to give us some privacy. She'd never said a word aboutwhat she might suspect between Grant and me, but her small gestures of consideration spoke volumes.

"Good work today," Grant said as he reached me, his voice carrying that professional tone he always used around the ranch. Nothing in his words would have raised eyebrows if overheard. "That new rotation schedule is working well."

"Thanks," I replied, matching his tone while fighting the urge to step closer, to shrink the careful distance we maintained in public. I kept my hands busy, coiling excess rope to hang on the fence post. "The north herd's looking good. That new bull's settling in better than expected."

He nodded, his eyes taking in the work we'd completed. Even in these normal interactions, his attention felt different—more focused, more seeing. Like he was constantly mapping me, learning every reaction and response.

Grant glanced briefly toward Maya, who was making a show of organizing tools while staying pointedly out of earshot. His voice dropped slightly. "I have some business in town tonight. Thought you might want to join me. Dinner, perhaps."

My hands stilled on the rope. We hadn't been off the ranch together yet. All our moments had been within these boundaries—intense and private, but never crossing the threshold into the outside world. My pulse quickened.

"A date?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

A hint of that rare smile played on his lips, the kind that made creases appear at the corners of his eyes. "Yes, a real date. Off the ranch, away from work. Just us." He paused, then added, "And after dinner, there's somewhere special I'd like to take you. Something I think you might enjoy."

The mysterious offer sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cooling evening air. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of place would be "special" in Grant'sestimation. Knowing his particular tastes and interests, my imagination ran wild.

"What time should I be ready?" I asked, surprised by the steadiness in my voice despite the nervous flutter in my stomach.

"Seven. I'll pick you up at the side entrance to the bunkhouse. Less visible that way." His eyes held mine for a moment longer than necessary—a subtle acknowledgment of our shared secret—before he turned back toward his truck.

I watched him walk away, admiring the confident set of his shoulders and the way authority seemed to roll off him in waves. It wasn't just his physical presence, though that was impressive enough. It was something deeper—the calm certainty of a man who knew exactly who he was and what he wanted.

After Grant's truck disappeared down the dirt road, Maya sauntered back, her lips twisted in a poorly concealed smile. "So . . . the boss needs help with business in town, huh?"

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