Page 1 of Snowed in with the Rancher

PROLOGUE

Tate McConnell was a ranching man—he was used to the sun beating down on him from a clear sky stretching endlessly overhead, arching over cool green pastures rolling out for miles with not another living creature in sight, except for some cows.

Today…well, the sun was out. There was that. But the sunshine was just about the only damn thing that felt familiar as he inched his way along the cruise ship's long, zigzagging gangway, blessing the partial shade that the overhead canopy provided as he reached the top section. He felt a sharp elbow in his side from the woman pushing forward on his left, struggling to grab a kid who held a dripping ice cream cone in one hand. She yanked the kid back, the ice cream flew off and landed on Tate's sneaker, causing the child to begin shrieking in response.

“Sorry,” the woman muttered as she dragged the child back to her family's place in the boarding line, shoving people aside with those sharp elbows as she went.

Tate tried to shake the ice cream off his foot, but as he was packed in among a multitude of people, all struggling to make their way up that narrow incline, and he didn't have much room to maneuver.

What had possessed him to accept this gift of a cruise from his dad and stepmom? “You need a vacation,” his dad had said. “Get out there and meet people,” both had told Tate. Why they thought he'dwantto meet people, he didn't know. He'd never really been the social type. It was why ranching suited him so well. Hours out on his own while he rode the fences and checked on the herd, letting his thoughts drift slow and easy—that was when he was happiest, when he felt the most settled and content. The idea that he needed a vacation from ranching was, frankly, ridiculous. And for that “vacation” to mean cramming on a boat with enough strangers to fill a small city? His stepmom might call it “a fun break,” but he was more likely to call it “hell on earth.”

“It's stupid crowded, isn't it?” a silky feminine voice to his left said.

The thought of making small talk with a stranger was nearly enough to make him cringe—but his manners wouldn't let him just ignore her. Tate bit back a grimace before he turned to face her. But as his gaze focused, he actually found himself smiling.

“It is,” he said, clearing his throat, which was suddenly hoarse and tight. He stared at her long enough that he figured he probably looked like a creeper, but damn, she was gorgeous. Her ruby lips curled in a warm, inviting smile and flawless golden skin covered a slim, curvy frame, but it was her eyes that really caught his attention. Wide, thickly lashed, and so expressive that he felt like he could stare into them forever and never get bored.

“You on board alone?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, shifting to face her.

She squeezed in next to him, putting them mere inches away from one another. She smelled like lemons and sunshine, and Tate's heart gave a little flutter.

“The cruise was a, uh, gift,” he told her as explanation for his solo status.

“Nice!” she exclaimed. “I'm here alone, too. Once a year, I scope out all the biggest deals on vacations and pick one, then go for it.”

Tate's grin kept getting wider. He probably looked ridiculous, but he couldn't help it. Her enthusiasm just made him want to smile. “That's adventurous. I'm impressed.”

She laughed, her entire face lighting up. “It's once-a-year adventurousness. The rest of the time, I'm boring.”

He chuckled, not believing it for a minute. “What do you do the rest of the year?”

“I work for a nonprofit. I finished my degree last year, so it's my first real job. How about you?”

“I'm a rancher. The opposite of adventurous.” He put his hand on her shoulder to keep her from being bumped by someone passing by with an overlarge shoulder bag. That one touch was all it took to short-circuit what was left of his inhibitions. Her skin was silky smooth like her voice, and warm like her smile. A frisson of electricity shot through him as he reluctantly let his arm drop.

“I'm Tate, by the way,” he said. “From Montana.”

“It's very nice to meet you, Tate from Montana,” she replied. “I'm Olivia from Washington.”

* * *

They had to separate when their turn came to be screened to come on board—a process that gave Tate a whole new appreciation for how his cows must feel when he herded them together to vaccinate them—but that night, they met up again for dinner, grabbing take-out from the diner on the fifth deck and then heading over to the pool deck, curling up on pool loungers and watching the sun set as they scarfed down burgers and fries. And in that moment, with Olivia by his side, Tate thought that his dad had been right after all—a cruise might be the best thing he'd done in months.

“Now, that was a meal,” Olivia said, leaning back on her chaise with a smile and a happy, sated sigh. In spite of his best attempts to be a gentleman, Tate couldn't help wondering what else he could do to get her to make that sound again. He decided he wanted to find out the answer as soon as possible.

“Glad you enjoyed it,” he said somewhat suggestively as he shifted so he could reach for her hand. She didn't resist, and he held on while gazing into her eyes with longing.

“I've enjoyed everything about spending time with you,” she told him softly.

“So have I,” he agreed. “I don’t think I’ve ever connected to someone as fast as I have with you.” He flushed. “I’m sorry—that probably sounds like a line. But I swear, I mean it.”

“It sounds like agoodline,” she said. “Because I believe you. And I feel the same way.”

As he stared into her lovely eyes, his heart clenched, and something else hardened in anticipation.

“So, Olivia from Washington…would you like to have a drink in my cabin?” he asked, hoping like hell he hadn't misread the situation. “Just a drink, if that's all you want,” he added, in case hehadmisread it. It wasn’t like he had much practice at this sort of thing. He’d never really dated much—usually preferred being on his own. But everything felt so easy with Olivia, soright. He had to take the chance.

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