Just What The Cowboy Needed

Summer of Her Cowboy

Never fall in love. Never get married. Logan Hunt knows all the things he doesn’t want. But his daughter needs a summer nanny and darn if Grace Flynn doesn’t fit the bill...and then some. The sweetly alluring kindergarten teacher is showing the die-hard bachelor a thing or two about fatherhood. It’s her effect on his libido—and heart—that’s keeping him up nights.

Did Grace really think her crush on Logan would magically vanish when she moved in with him and his adorable little girl? Still, she never thought the broody rancher with the intense baby blues would turn out to be the cowboy of her dreams! All she ever wanted was a real home. Could her place to belong be with this unexpected family man?

Logan bent and lifted her but wasn’t fully prepared when Grace slid her arms around his neck.

He knew what a come-hither expression looked like and had even experienced it more times than he could count. But he’d never felt the power of it before Grace. He didn’t think she even realized how she was looking at him. As if she wanted him, too.

This was big trouble.

It would be so easy to touch his mouth to hers. Only a couple of inches separated them and he ached to know if she tasted of wine, cake and some magic that was all her. Somewhere close by, he heard the chirp of an unlocking car. The sound snapped him out of the sensual trance and he moved over to the truck to set her gently in the passenger seat. It was just a beat too long before she stopped touching him.

“Thanks.”

“Buckle up.”

He closed the door and realized how stupid he sounded. She wasn’t a kid but a grown woman, a fact not lost on him after holding her exceptional curves in his arms.

* * *

The Bachelors Of Blackwater Lake: They won’t be single for long!

Just What the Cowboy Needed

Teresa Southwick

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TERESA SOUTHWICK lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Mills & Boon.

For everyone who wants a happy ending as much as I do and believes that love will find a way.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Grace Flynn’s heart actually skipped a beat, and she’d always thought that happened only in romance novels.

Logan Hunt stood in the doorway of his house, and her worst fears came true. Her first impression was officially correct. He wasn’t a troll and that was not good news.

“Hello, Grace. Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you, too.” And that was the absolute truth, darn it.

She’d hoped her attraction to the rancher was an interview thing that would magically disappear on her first day in his employ. Well, she’d just arrived for work and her reaction was even stronger than the last time. Burying her head in the sand wasn’t an option. She had to face the fact that she would be living in his house and taking care of his five-year-old daughter for the next eight weeks. This strong response to the man meant the job would be more difficult and complicated than it should be.

On the bright side, and it could just be her stereotyping, men as handsome as this one were usually jerks. The kind who would string a woman along, hint at a future and a family while letting her pour her heart, soul and savings into him and his house, then decide he didn’t love her after all. That jerk had used her and stomped on her heart, but being the fool who fell for a pretty face was on her.

“Are you all right, Grace?”

“Yes, fine.” She didn’t sound breathless, did she? Oh, please no.

Call her pessimistic and cynical, but it wasn’t a matter of if Logan would live up to the stereotype, but when. She hoped his inner jerk would come out soon so her heart would stop hammering like a drum at a Fourth of July parade.

“Are you sure?” He was giving her a funny look while standing in the doorway.

Not so much standing as filling it, she thought. He was very tall and boyish looking with his brown hair and blue eyes. Although there was an intensity in those eyes that was all man.

“I’m fine, really. It was a long drive from Buckskin Pass.”

“I’ve been there. Pretty town.”

“I like it.”

“Please, come in.”

“Thanks.” She was clutching the handle of her wheeled suitcase and started to roll it inside.

“Let me get that for you.”

His fingers touched hers and she felt like a cartoon character whose heart beat so hard and fast you could see the outline of it jumping out of her chest. “Thank you.”

“Do you have more in the car?”

“Of course. Packing a lot of stuff is what we do. Women, I mean. I’m a woman.”

“Yeah. I noticed.” When his gaze met hers, his polite cowboy manner slipped a little. It was the way a man looks at a woman when he likes what he sees, giving her a glimpse of something earthy and primal. And exciting.

That moment of chemistry touched a core of femininity and expectation simmering inside her. Wow. From September to June she was a kindergarten teacher at Buckskin Pass Elementary School. Without a doubt she could say she had never exchanged a hot look like that with her boss, the principal. But her boss for the summer was a different story.

Grace needed to say something to... What? Break the ice? She was so hot right now, there was no way anything in her immediate perimeter could freeze.

“I’m looking forward to seeing Cassie again. Where is your adorable daughter?”

“She’s with her mom doing wedding errands. Tracy will drop her off when they’re finished.”

“Okay.”

Grace had met his ex and liked her a lot. Tracy mentioned that she and Logan had never married, but shared custody of their daughter, although he had her only on weekends. But she was tying the knot and taking an extended honeymoon, so he was keeping their little girl here at the ranch. Since he had to work and needed child care, Grace had been hired to look after her. It would be interesting to know why Logan and Tracy had never married. Why the two of them, who had created a child together and seemed to get along perfectly, hadn’t worked out romantically.

“Follow me. I’ll show you where you’ll be bunking.”

The statement was so macho cowboy, she could practically hear the creak of saddle leather and the clip-clop of horses’ hooves. Or was that just her heart again?

This was the first time she’d seen his house. They’d met in downtown Blackwater Lake at the Grizzly Bear Diner for the interview. So far she liked what she saw. They were standing in the small entryway just inside the front door. There was a living room to the right, dining on the left. Wood furniture looked like well-loved antiques, while the sofa, love seat, chair and ottoman were contemporary, compatible and homey. Somehow it all worked but wasn’t what she’d expected from the handsome rancher.

Grace followed him up the stairs. “So, Logan, I checked you out—”

“Oh?” He glanced over his shoulder, but his face gave nothing away.

She couldn’t tell whether or not that bothered him. “It’s the smart thing to do. I’ll be living in your house for eight weeks.”

“And looking after my daughter,” he reminded her.

“The thing is that you had me checked out, right? I’d expect nothing less from her father.”

“Of course I did.”

“So it works both ways.” Grace was watching for signs that his inner jerk was scratching to be let out. “Can you blame me?”

“Nope.” He reached the top of the stairs, then turned right.

“Don’t you want to know what I found out?”

He glanced over his shoulder again and appeared amused about something. “As it happens, I know all about me.”

Cute, she thought. Actually, he was very cute when he let down his guard a little. She would really like to see what he looked like when he laughed.

“That was more of a conversation starter. Because I found out that this land has been in your family for four generations.”

That boggled her mind. He could easily trace his ancestry back to his great-great-grandparents. She, on the other hand, didn’t even know who her parents were. That’s what happened when shortly after birth you were wrapped in a towel and left at a fire station. Logan had an impressive family tree; she had nothing but question marks.

“I’m aware of that,” he finally said.

She was staring at his broad back and wide shoulders and swore it wasn’t her imagination that he tensed up. “Happily, nothing bad popped up in the background check I did.”

“Good to know.”

“And Cassie’s mother vouched for you when I interviewed with her.”

“What if Tracy was lying?”

“She wasn’t.”

He stopped in front of a bedroom. “How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“You’re a good judge of people?”

“Yes.” Mostly. Her biggest lapse in judgment was with Lance the Loser.

Everyone was entitled to one monster of a mistake, right? She’d been a kid in the foster care system and had to move from place to place. Growing up, she’d dreamed of having a house of her very own. She’d worked really hard and saved to do that, then lost it on Lance. That’s what happened when a girl took a man at his word but got nothing in writing to protect herself.

There’d been no choice but to start all over again saving for a house, and after this summer job, she would have enough for the down payment. Again.

“So, you’re a good judge of people and still took this job?” Logan said.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” She was pretty sure he was joking and that was supposed to be a sassy comeback, but Grace couldn’t tell if she’d pulled it off.

“You did the research.” Logan shrugged and one corner of his mouth quirked up before he carried her suitcase into the spacious room, then set it on a cedar chest at the foot of the bed. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”

There was a queen-size bed with brass head- and footboards. An old-fashioned wedding-ring-patterned spread and throw pillows in dusty rose and green covered the mattress. On the wall over the swivel rocker hung a flowered hatbox and vintage prints in oval frames. One was a needlepoint that said, “A Family Stitched Together with Love Seldom Unravels.” The mirrored dresser and matching armoire looked old but well cared for.

“This is a girl’s room,” Grace observed.

“It was my sister’s.” He pointed. “The bathroom is through there.”

“Lucky girl had it all to herself.”

“Not luck so much as practical. Mom and Granddad figured the line would move faster in the morning if Jamie didn’t hog the facilities. There’s another one down the hall. My two brothers and I used that one. Cassie’s room is next to it.”

“Wow, four kids.” And no mention of his father. “Must have been fun growing up.”

“Not really.”

It would have been so easy for him to say his childhood was idyllic and carefree. How would she know? Well, except for the glaring omission of any reference to his father. But, really, he could have taken the easy way out and glossed over it, but he didn’t. She liked that about him. And yet it made her considerably more curious to know details.

“I’ll show you the rest of the place,” Logan said, before she could ask anything.

Each room was cozier than the last. The kitchen looked recently remodeled with granite countertops, a large island and wood floor. A circular oak table and four matching chairs filled the nook overlooking a manicured backyard with a pool.

Grace had never had a house of her own and was admittedly sensitive to a homey vibe. That said, after seeing Logan Hunt’s whole house there was no denying love at first sight. The realization made the ache inside her bigger. All she’d ever wanted was somewhere to belong with roots that went deep. A place that was all hers, that she could call home.

On the plus side, when this summer job was over she would have the money to put a down payment on property with her name on the title. She could picture it in her mind, a positive affirmation. Until then, her work environment was awesome.

But every plus had a minus, and his name was Logan Hunt.

* * *

Logan was doing his damnedest to be a good father, but very often his daughter had a way of proving that he was spitting into the wind.

“Daddy, you got soap in my eyes.” Cassie was sitting in the tub, rubbing her eyes.

“Sorry, baby girl.” He let the bathwater out, then turned on the tub’s spigot and used a plastic glass to pour fresh water over her head. “Is that better?”

She nodded. “I’m cold.”

“Got a towel right here.” He lifted her out and wrapped the thick terry cloth around her. “Let’s get you dry and in your nightgown, then I’ll brush your hair.”

“I don’t like that part.” She had blue eyes, light brown hair and the prettiest pout in the world. People always said she looked like him. He would take it, minus the pout part.

“Do you want Grace to brush your hair?”

Cassie thought for a moment. “Maybe you should show her how first.”

That meant sharing confined bathroom space with her, but there didn’t seem a way out of it. “Okay. I’ll go get her while you finish drying off and put on your nightgown.”

“Okay.”

Logan left and found Grace in her room unpacking. He stood in the open doorway, taking in the fresh pretty sight of her. The first time he’d seen Grace Flynn was when he interviewed her. It felt as if he’d been slugged in the gut with a sledgehammer. The second time was this afternoon when she’d arrived for work, and the sledgehammer felt more like a bulldozer. She wasn’t cover-model beautiful, but that mouth... Her full lips looked as soft as cotton candy and twice as sweet. More temptation than he was prepared to deal with.

The problem was, she was perfect for this job, except the part where Logan wanted to find out if she might be attracted to him, too. He would know only if he made a move on her and that was out of the question. But accepting that didn’t make the wanting go away. Why couldn’t she be a sweet old lady? Or even a crabby one who was great with kids? Since luck had never been on his side, there was no reason to hope for a change now.

Hiring her to take care of his daughter was trouble with a capital T, but by the time he’d met her Cassie’s mom had all but signed her onto the payroll. His approval was more symbolic than anything, and her credentials were impeccable. No way could he admit he was the problem and why that was. So Grace was here for the next eight weeks.

God help him.

He cleared his throat. “Grace—”

“Oh, my God!” She whirled around, dropping the stack of panties and bras she’d been about to put in a drawer. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” It hadn’t escaped his notice that her panties were skimpy, lacy and at least one pair was red and one black. Might have been a pink one, too, but verifying would mean staring and that wasn’t smart. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Maybe I should wear a bell around my neck.”

“Works for me.” She blew out a breath. “Is there something you needed?”

That was a loaded question if he’d ever heard one, but that’s not what she meant. “Cassie’s finished in the tub and I’m going to brush out her hair. She thought you might want to watch, in case you have to do it.”

“Of course. Hair brushing doesn’t have a steep learning curve, but she’s only five. Easing into the situation to make the transition smoother is a great idea.”

“She does have a mind of her own. Sometimes it’s better just to go with it.” He turned away, knowing she was crossing the room to follow. Not that he was psychic. The scent of her perfume grew stronger and settled inside him. He was pretty sure he could find her in a pitch-black room.

In the bathroom Cassie had pulled some girlie nightgown over her head and stood waiting for them. She grinned. “Hi, Grace. I’m all clean.”

“I see that. And your hair is all wet.”

“I know. Daddy’s going to show you how he combs all the tangles out. He learned from Mommy.”

He grabbed the special spray hair product and squirted the liquid on her head, then picked up the wide-toothed comb to slowly drag it from her forehead all the way past her shoulders. “Are you sure you don’t want to get all this cut off?”

“No!” Cassie and Grace spoke together.

Logan looked from the small female to the taller one. “I guess it’s unanimous.”

“Your hair is gorgeous,” Grace told the little girl. “Don’t let him talk you into cutting it.”

“No way.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared. “I’m glad Grace is here.”

“Yeah.” He met her gaze and forced himself not to look at her mouth. If it was up to him, he would advise her to get out before his bad rubbed off on her. Surely there was a woman over sixty in Blackwater Lake who could do this job.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetie,” Grace said. “But I have to say your dad is doing a great job.”

“You sound surprised.” He continued working out the tangles with the comb.

“Maybe a little. She has thick hair, but you make it look easy.”

“Daddy says it’s not that different from brushing the horses.” Cassie giggled, and her tone said she liked ratting him out.

Humor sparkled in Grace’s eyes. “So you use a pricey hair product to detangle horse hair in order to not hurt their delicate scalp?”

“What if I said yes?” He couldn’t resist smiling at that.

“I’d say you have some very pampered horses here on the ranch.”

On one knee behind his daughter, Logan slowly pulled the plastic comb through the long hair as gently as possible. He wouldn’t deliberately hurt her for anything. “Horses are a business asset, and it wouldn’t be smart to neglect them. They serve a purpose and need to be maintained. Just like a car or any other piece of equipment.”

“Agreed.” But she looked puzzled. “And yet, I can’t help wondering about the context of the conversation that you had with Cassie, comparing her hair to brushing a horse.”

“This little girl wouldn’t hold still.”

Cassie nodded, throwing off the comb and proving the truth of his words. “Daddy said the horses didn’t move while he was brushin’ ’em. And he betted me I couldn’t be like a horse.”

“Did he now?” Grace nodded her approval. “Who won the bet?”

“Daddy did.” She sighed. “Holding still is really hard.”

“Are the horses older than five?”

“Not all of them.” Logan stopped combing and looked up at her. “But I see where you’re going with this. Chronological age doesn’t work the same in horses as it does in humans.”

Cassie had the expression on her face that said she thought he hung the moon. “My daddy knows everything. Don’t you, Daddy?”

Logan dreaded the day when she would find out for sure that he didn’t know very much of anything. “I know enough to take care of them and keep them healthy. And when it’s necessary to consult someone else who knows more than me.”

“And you can ride really good, too. Daddy, you promised to teach me how when I was five. And now I am.”

His stomach knotted with dread. When he’d promised her that, it had sounded so far in the future. Now, suddenly she was five. Next thing he knew she’d be dating boys and asking to drive a car.

“It’s getting late. Why don’t we talk about this later, baby girl?”

“That’s what you always say.” The glare on her face said he was one broken promise away from her realizing that he didn’t hang the moon. “And I’m not a baby.”

He glanced at Grace and couldn’t tell what she was thinking. That pushed him to explain. “It’s not just about being five, honey. You have to be strong enough to handle a horse. To show him who’s boss.”

“And to get strong,” Grace interjected, “you have to eat right and get enough sleep.”

Logan shot her a grateful look for the support and the distraction that pulled his ass out of the fire. He stood and looked down at his daughter. “That’s right.”

“Do you like reading a story at bedtime, Cassie?” Grace asked.

The little girl turned serious—and literal. “I don’t know how to read yet. But in September I’m going to big-girl school so I can learn.”

“How about if I read?” Grace pressed her full lips together, probably to hold back a laugh.

Too bad, Logan thought. He’d heard her laugh and liked it a lot. But he didn’t count. Cassie’s opinion was the one that mattered and she seemed completely taken with Grace. As comfortable as if she’d known her forever. That was the most important thing. More significant than Grace’s pretty sun-streaked brown hair and big hazel eyes.

That did it. No one would ever accuse him of being poetic, so it was a clear sign that the time had come to make himself scarce.

“Okay, baby girl—” He saw the rebellion on the little freckled face and held up his hand. “My bad. You’re not a baby. But I’m still going to tuck you into bed, then Grace can read you a story.”

“Okay.”

Logan took her small hand and they walked to her room. Then he picked her up and set her gently on the mattress before pulling the covers over her. “Sleep tight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Daddy, don’t you want to hear the story, too?”

“I’d love to but—” He needed space. “This will give you and Grace a chance to get to know each other. Remember, I won’t be around much because I have to work and run the ranch. That’s my job.”

“So Grace is like Mary Poppins,” Cassie said.

“The movie?”

“Yes. Mary Poppins comes to take care of kids and she does magic. When she goes away at the end the whole family is happy.”

Logan looked at the woman he’d hired. “I don’t know if Grace can do magic, but she’s here to watch out for you. Most of the time you’ll be with her.”

“You still have to teach me to ride a horse, Daddy.”

He ignored that and it went into the file of not a hill he was going to die on tonight. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep so you grow big and strong.”

Logan stood in the hall for a few moments, listening to the sound of Grace’s voice reading Cassie’s favorite Dr. Seuss book. With a sigh he turned away and headed downstairs, where he was going to try like hell not to think about that woman’s sexy underwear on the floor of her room. Or how she might look wearing nothing but those red panties. A good single-malt Scotch might help with that, but liquor traditionally tore down walls and willpower, which was the complete opposite of his current goal.