The Rancher's Rules. Lucy Monroe

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      When he pulled up in front of the school that afternoon, Grant half expected Zoe to be gone. She wasn’t. She stood talking to a couple of other teachers in some flowy cotton thing that flirted in the wind, with her legs encased in tight leggings. Didn’t she know any better than to wear stuff like that in this weather? And where was her coat? At least she was wearing a turtleneck under the flowy thing.

      Wasn’t that the tattoo man from the other evening? If she thought Grant would let Mr. Leather drive her home, she was in for a shock. No way was she going home on a Harley in these conditions.

      Zoe looked up and met his eyes. Grant breathed a sigh of relief when she said goodbye to her friends and headed toward his truck. At least that was one battle they did not have to get into. Not like this morning. He still couldn’t figure out what had offended her so much. Did it really bother her that he had wanted to drive her to school?

      A small, still voice chided Grant. It hadn’t been Zoe’s response that had escalated their argument. It had been his own. He was edgy and he knew why. Her dad had called him the previous evening, after she had taken care of her animals and left. He and Mrs. Jensen weren’t coming for Christmas.

      They had been invited last minute to join a group of retirees on a cruise for the holidays. Heaven knew why they accepted, but they had. Zoe would be devastated. He had given the number for the Patterson place to Mr. Jensen, but the older man had asked Grant to relay the news—said they were too busy packing to make another phone call, which was a load of manure. The man just didn’t want to have to deal with his daughter when he told her they weren’t coming back for the holidays. He’d probably dealt with enough grief from his wife, but Mrs. Jensen was an old-fashioned woman. She might argue with her husband, but she wouldn’t outright say no to him.

      Grant could have refused to tell Zoe, but that would not have improved the situation. Mr. Jensen did not know how to talk to his daughter. He would hurt her with his pragmatic attitude. He might even go on about Zoe’s pets and the new mess she’d gotten herself into because of them, as he had to Grant on the phone the previous evening.

      Much better for Zoe if Grant were to break the news. First he would have to get her speaking to him again, though. He was going to have to apologize. The thought did not lighten his mood.

      She opened the passenger door and climbed in, shivering. “You’re late.”

      “I got caught on a phone call to New York on the landline.” If he’d been on his cell, he could have left on time.

      She harrumphed like only Zoe could. He imagined her little kindergarteners knew just when they had upset Miss Jensen without her saying a word. She had a look when she was mad or disappointed that left no doubt how she felt.

      “What were you doing talking to that joker?” He hadn’t meant to ask, but now that he had Grant wanted an answer.

      Zoe’s head snapped toward him and she gasped. She turned back and looked out the front windshield. “I do not know to whom you are referring. None of my friends are jokers.”

      He ground his teeth. “The guy in all the leather.”

      “I told you, his name is Tyler.”

      “So, why were you talking to him?”

      “I talk to lots of people, Grant. Do you expect me to keep a record and report back to you?”

      “Of course not.”

      “Good, because I would have to disappoint you if you did.”

      He had not meant to get so off track. “Are you going out with him again?”

      “That’s none of your business.”

      “It sure as hell is. I promised your parents I’d watch out for you.”

      “So you said this morning.”

      Grant cleared his throat. The thermal shirt under his flannel suddenly felt like one too many layers. “About СКАЧАТЬ