he wasn’t
interested in doing the walk of shame twice in one week.
As it was, he longed to spend every single night in
bed with Gracie and Grant. All night long. Truth was, he didn’t want to sleep
alone.
Grant Kingsley: Tease
Sexy Cowgirl: I try
The minutes ticked by, and there weren’t any more
responses, so Lane figured they’d both given in for the night. As he rolled
over, clutching his phone against his chest, he wished like hell that he were
in Gracie’s bed with Grant right there with him.
These lonely nights were beginning to get to him.
Maybe it was time he told the two of them that.
Lane Miller: Goodnight y’all. I love you both.
Lane didn’t bother to keep his eyes open and wait for
a response.
Which was a good thing because one never came .
Chapter Eight
The next evening…Wednesday
Grant spent the better part of the day helping Cody
check some of the equipment that had been giving them trouble in recent weeks.
As the ranch foreman, he was used to doing a wide range of jobs, but today, he
had to admit he’d used it as an excuse to hide away for a little while.
To make matters worse, his phone battery was
dwindling, but that was all thanks to his father’s persistent attempts to get a
rise out of him. For the last twenty-four hours, Grant had been fighting
relentlessly with his father. After finding out from Hope that Darrell had been
calling the ranch, Grant had been forced to address the man. Luckily, it had
all been done via text. The arguments… Yeah, well, he was used to those. And
for the most part, he could ignore them. Grant didn’t usually allow those types
of things — insistent demands from Darrell — to interrupt his days, but he’d
received some disconcerting news from his father that he couldn’t seem to
shake.
According to Darrell, Grant’s mother hadn’t yet come
back home. Trying to pry the details from his father was like rounding up
cattle with a cat. It didn’t work, so Grant had tried to call his mother
directly, but he only got her voice mail. Three times.
Now, Grant knew Sandy wasn’t always responsive when he
left her messages, but this was a little out of the norm, even for her. When he
called, her voice mail kicked on immediately, which meant either she had turned
her phone off on purpose or the damn thing was dead. If she was dealing with
the same harassing messages from Darrell that Grant was, he didn’t necessarily
blame her for going off the grid. But he was beginning to worry.
Grant had just clicked on the television when a knock
on his front door had him lifting his head in a half attempt to give the
visitor his attention. “It’s open!” he yelled, dropping his head back down on
the armrest of the small love seat he’d landed on when his legs had given out
on him earlier.
“Hey,” Lane greeted, bringing a ray of the descending
sun with him when he walked in, momentarily blinding Grant.
“Hey,” Grant mumbled, his eyes closed as he flung his
forearm over his face for additional protection.
“What’re you doin’?”
“What does it look like I’m doin’?” Grant countered
without moving an inch.
“Waitin’ for me, from what I can tell.”
Sliding his arm down, he peered up at Lane through
half-open eyes. He didn’t even try to force a smile because he didn’t have
enough energy to do so.
Lane came to stand at the end of the love seat, his
tall, broad frame blocking Grant’s view of the television.
“You’re probably right,” Grant muttered, opening his
eyes fully so he could get a good look at the sexy cowboy standing in his
living room.
He really was happy to see Lane. At this point, seeing
Lane or Gracie was the highlight of every single day, but he was too damn tired
— both mentally and physically — to carry on much of a conversation.
“You know what I need?” Lane asked, his smile morphing
into a very sexy smirk.
“What’s that?” Grant asked, knowing he shouldn’t.
Whatever Lane was thinking was
interested in doing the walk of shame twice in one week.
As it was, he longed to spend every single night in
bed with Gracie and Grant. All night long. Truth was, he didn’t want to sleep
alone.
Grant Kingsley: Tease
Sexy Cowgirl: I try
The minutes ticked by, and there weren’t any more
responses, so Lane figured they’d both given in for the night. As he rolled
over, clutching his phone against his chest, he wished like hell that he were
in Gracie’s bed with Grant right there with him.
These lonely nights were beginning to get to him.
Maybe it was time he told the two of them that.
Lane Miller: Goodnight y’all. I love you both.
Lane didn’t bother to keep his eyes open and wait for
a response.
Which was a good thing because one never came .
Chapter Eight
The next evening…Wednesday
Grant spent the better part of the day helping Cody
check some of the equipment that had been giving them trouble in recent weeks.
As the ranch foreman, he was used to doing a wide range of jobs, but today, he
had to admit he’d used it as an excuse to hide away for a little while.
To make matters worse, his phone battery was
dwindling, but that was all thanks to his father’s persistent attempts to get a
rise out of him. For the last twenty-four hours, Grant had been fighting
relentlessly with his father. After finding out from Hope that Darrell had been
calling the ranch, Grant had been forced to address the man. Luckily, it had
all been done via text. The arguments… Yeah, well, he was used to those. And
for the most part, he could ignore them. Grant didn’t usually allow those types
of things — insistent demands from Darrell — to interrupt his days, but he’d
received some disconcerting news from his father that he couldn’t seem to
shake.
According to Darrell, Grant’s mother hadn’t yet come
back home. Trying to pry the details from his father was like rounding up
cattle with a cat. It didn’t work, so Grant had tried to call his mother
directly, but he only got her voice mail. Three times.
Now, Grant knew Sandy wasn’t always responsive when he
left her messages, but this was a little out of the norm, even for her. When he
called, her voice mail kicked on immediately, which meant either she had turned
her phone off on purpose or the damn thing was dead. If she was dealing with
the same harassing messages from Darrell that Grant was, he didn’t necessarily
blame her for going off the grid. But he was beginning to worry.
Grant had just clicked on the television when a knock
on his front door had him lifting his head in a half attempt to give the
visitor his attention. “It’s open!” he yelled, dropping his head back down on
the armrest of the small love seat he’d landed on when his legs had given out
on him earlier.
“Hey,” Lane greeted, bringing a ray of the descending
sun with him when he walked in, momentarily blinding Grant.
“Hey,” Grant mumbled, his eyes closed as he flung his
forearm over his face for additional protection.
“What’re you doin’?”
“What does it look like I’m doin’?” Grant countered
without moving an inch.
“Waitin’ for me, from what I can tell.”
Sliding his arm down, he peered up at Lane through
half-open eyes. He didn’t even try to force a smile because he didn’t have
enough energy to do so.
Lane came to stand at the end of the love seat, his
tall, broad frame blocking Grant’s view of the television.
“You’re probably right,” Grant muttered, opening his
eyes fully so he could get a good look at the sexy cowboy standing in his
living room.
He really was happy to see Lane. At this point, seeing
Lane or Gracie was the highlight of every single day, but he was too damn tired
— both mentally and physically — to carry on much of a conversation.
“You know what I need?” Lane asked, his smile morphing
into a very sexy smirk.
“What’s that?” Grant asked, knowing he shouldn’t.
Whatever Lane was thinking was
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