The Rancher's Rules. Lucy Monroe
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glove. “What the hell were you thinking? You could have frozen on the way over here.” She nearly had. Her small hand felt like an icicle. He chafed it between his own much larger and warmer ones, enjoying the smell of spring she carried with her, even in the dead of winter. “Angel, you need a keeper.”
Zoe smiled up at him and her chocolate-brown eyes twinkled. “I already have one. You.”
He did not smile back. “I’m not doing a very good job if you’re out driving in the snow in some broken-down car without a heater, niña.” No way was she driving home in that death trap.
She pulled her hand from his grip and started unbuttoning her coat. Her fingers trembled. “I’m not a child, and the car isn’t broken—just the heater. What’s the emergency?”
He picked up the hamster cage. “This is the emergency.”
Zoe’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest, pressing the swell of her breasts against her loose knit sweater. “No.”
Ignoring his body’s blatant reaction to the subtle stimulus, he forced his gaze to her less than welcoming expression.
She stomped her foot and snow fell onto the kitchen floor. “Do you hear me? I’m not taking him.”
Grant opened the cage and pulled the hamster out. He extended his hand to her. “Look at those sad little eyes. He’s already been rejected by one woman. Don’t do this to him.”
She did not take the animal, but stood defiantly silent—all five feet two inches of her.
“He was a gift to my foreman’s daughter, along with another hamster. The pet store said they were both female.”
Zoe’s eyes widened in comprehension. “They weren’t, and your foreman did not want a zillion hamster babies running around the house?”
Grant nodded. “Little Sheila had to choose between her two hamsters. She chose the female. Bud got left out in the cold.”
Zoe unclipped her long brown hair and smoothed it back, clipping it again. Grant recognized the gesture. She was thinking. She looked at him, her expression unreadable, and then shifted her gaze to the hamster. She reached out to take Bud and cuddled the little furball close to her chest.
Her nicely rounded, high-breasted chest. He ground his teeth at the thought. He hadn’t noticed Zoe’s feminine attributes since the summer she was nineteen—he’d made sure of it—but lately his body had been going haywire around her. He definitely needed an outlet for his libido.
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Bud.”
“Why didn’t they just take him back to the pet store?”
“They tried, but the store owner wouldn’t take the older hamster along with the babies.”
Zoe’s gaze shot to his. “They already had babies?”
“Yep. That’s how they figured out they weren’t both females.”
Zoe raised her brows at this. “They couldn’t figure it out before that?”
Grant shrugged. “I guess not.”
“Why can’t you keep him?”
“Get real. I don’t do small furry animals. That is your domain. I do not begin to have time for a pet.” Not even a hamster. “Besides, I have to fly out for a business trip tomorrow.”
“So, me coming tomorrow would not have worked?”
“No, but had I known you planned to take your life into your hands to make the trip, I would have come to you.”
“Bringing Bud, no doubt.”
He did not bother to answer. That was a given.
Her eyes skimmed the kitchen, another indicator that she was thinking heavily, and her gaze lit on his empty beer bottle. “Get dumped again?”
“Don’t sound so cheerful about the prospect.”
“The woman last night? Linda?”
“Yes.”
Zoe smiled. “She take exception to you turning your evening into a double date at the last minute?”
As a matter of fact, she had. But Grant wasn’t about to share that with Zoe. He shrugged instead.
She laughed. “You didn’t have to join me and Tyler. He’s a sweetheart under all that leather.”
“Sweethearts do not get tattoos of naked women in chains on their biceps.”
Zoe had got that I’m going to protect the underdog look on her face. “He got the tattoo when he was a lot younger. You shouldn’t judge a man by the vagaries of his youth.”
Grant couldn’t help it. He laughed. Zoe leaping to the defense of an abandoned kitten made sense. Zoe protecting the reputation of the guy she had been out with the night before did not. He had looked like someone who could take care of himself and Zoe besides. That was why Grant had insisted on joining them. He hadn’t liked the way the other man had looked at her.
“You going out with him again?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Come on, niña. He’s not your type.”
She looked at him, and something in her eyes made his body tense, ready to do battle. “Just what is my type, Grant?”
“It’s not that clown from last night.”
She walked over to the table and gently put Bud back in his cage. “His name is Tyler.”
“I don’t care what his name is. He is not the right man for you.”
“Yeah, well, according to you, neither are any of the other men I’ve dated since I was sixteen.”
It was an old argument and Grant knew he’d lose. Zoe dated who she wanted, driving him crazy in the process.
She grabbed her coat. After she’d put it on, she yanked on her gloves and hat. The bobble bounced wildly from her harsh tugging. “I’m really not in the mood to argue about this. I’ve got forty little yellow bells to cut out for tomorrow’s craft project. I’d better be getting home.”
Grant grabbed his car keys from the drawer by the sink. “Take my truck. You don’t want Bud to freeze.”
She considered his suggestion silently. He could tell she was warring with her desire for independence and her concern for the hamster. “What about my landlady’s car?”
“I’ll follow you and drive my truck back.”
She chewed on her lower lip. “It’s a cold ride. Mrs. Givens doesn’t need the car right now. It belongs to her son and he’s away at college. Just bring it by when you get back from your trip. I assume you are flying out in the morning?”
“Yes.”
“You could have one of your hands make the transfer tomorrow, if you like.”
“We’ll see,” he said noncommittally, knowing he would not do so. He would rather she kept his truck until his return, when hopefully her own vehicle would be repaired. He was careful not to let the satisfaction he felt show in his face, however.
If she thought he was getting away with being “overly protective”, as she called it, she was stubborn enough to insist.
That Sunday, Zoe rushed around her apartment before Mrs. Givens arrived for tea. She had invited her landlady the previous week and didn’t want to cancel at the last minute. It would make the older woman suspicious. Zoe didn’t want Mrs. Givens to realize that she had taken in another stray. Even this close to Christmas, she had the feeling that one more pet would prompt an eviction notice.
She