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Rancher’s Little Lover
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Hawke Jameson is a thirty-six-year-old single father. When his son Garrett comes home for a visit from college bringing some new friends along, one of them is the outspoken Lynette. One look at the young beauty and something deep and forbidden unfurls in his gut. He tells himself no way hands off; she’s too young. But then he catches her scent, the one a woman gives off when she senses her mate, and all bets are off.
“I want to have you in the worst way, Kitten. But if we do this there has to be more to us than just sex. There’re going to be rules.”
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“Son you know you don’t have to ask me that, of course it’s okay the more the merrier.” I hung up the phone with a smile. It would be nice to see the kid. He’s been away at school for the semester, the longest three months of my life.
He’d been home for a few days over the holidays of course, but that was never long enough. Now this time he was going to be home for almost three months. Praise be.
My boy was all I had left of his mother who had been taken from us when he was too young to remember he even had a mother. A drunk driver going the wrong way on the highway had slammed into her on her way home. We were barely twenty-two when it happened.
Garrett was my pride and joy, we’d never been apart his whole life not once, but my mom and dad had convinced me that going away to the school of his choice would be good for my son, help him to become a man.
And more than that I wanted only the best of everything life had to offer for my boy. Thank goodness he didn’t have the same struggles I had when I was his age.
I’d had to grow up early, after getting Janine pregnant our last year in high school. Our parents had stepped in and helped us out so we could both finish school and things had worked out fine, until she was taken from us.
After she was gone it had just been me and Garrett and I guess because he was all I had left of the girl I’d loved so much, I’d kept him close and over protected him a bit I guess.
It was the hardest thing I’d had to do in a long time, sending him away. Watching him get on that plane to California. But I’d done it, and hearing the joy in my son’s voice each time he called, news of every new friend he made, solidified the rightness of the decision for me.
Now he’s calling to tell me some of his new buddies want to tag along for his vacation. I better see about getting the house together.
The housekeeper might give me lip about all the extra bodies but when wasn’t Sheila grumbling at me about something.
“Hey Sheila that was our boy on the phone.” I called out as I entered the massive kitchen with its nineteenth century farm style decor.
It had been Janine’s dream to have a kitchen like this. She’d been a farm girl at heart and loved anything to do with the lifestyle.
When I’d had enough of city life and needed a place to raise my rambunctious off spring I’d chosen the wide-open spaces of Wyoming to call home.
I’d put most of the insurance money from the accident into a trust for my boy, which had grown into a nice bundle and used the rest to buy the ranch. Now fourteen years later I ran one of the most successful cattle ranches in the country. Go figure.
“When’s my baby coming home Hawke? I’m still mad as spit that you sent my boy to that damn California. A bunch of fornicating jezebels if you ask me.” I rolled my eyes behind her back as I headed to the cupboard for a glass to get some water.
It was the same argument everyday for the past three months or so. And no matter how much I tried to convince her, she wasn’t having it. Garrett was her baby and nothing would do but he be home underfoot night and day for her to fuss over.
“He needs an education Sheils, now stop giving me a hard time we’ve got work to do. Garrett is bringing company when he comes home in a few days.” From the way she puffed up like a Bantam rooster I knew exactly what she was thinking.
“Not that kind of company woman, some of his school friends want to tag along for part of the summer.” She still looked at me suspiciously but I chose to ignore her. There was no point in trying to convince her of anything she’d draw her own conclusions anyway.
“We need to get the guest rooms set up and we’re gonna need supplies.”
“What’s this we, you planning on sweeping floors and making beds?”
“I’d rather eat dirt.” I do so love to get her goat.
“Worthless that’s what you are. How many of these here guests are you expecting?”
“He said five.” I waited for the screeching to start but not a peep. She wiped her hands on the dishtowel looking thoughtful.
“That’s fine then no trouble at all.”
“What? What was that last month when I wanted to have company over and you had a fit?” She placed her hands on her hips and blasted me.
“Charlene Foster and her whelp ain’t company; pack of money grubbing termites you ask me.” She grumbled the last but I still heard her loud and clear, just as I’d heard her when she told me if I brought the two women out for the weekend she’d quit.