Boots Optional

“I don’t give a damn what time he said he’d be here. I fuc–” Grace Lambert slammed her mouth closed, shutting down her own tirade before it was too late. As it was, she had…

“Abigail Grace Lambert! Watch your damn mouth!”

Yep, she’d gone and done it now. Pissing off her pop first thing in the morning probably wasn’t the best way to start the day. In fact, she usually preferred a little caffeine before he chewed her a new one.

Probably to avoid her father’s wrath, Casey – one of the wranglers who helped out in the kitchen each morning – hauled ass out the back door, the screen slamming shut behind him. Lucky bastard. Grace added “Pay Casey back for bailing” to her mental list of things to do today as she turned back to her father, who’d puffed up like a bullfrog, getting ready to lay into her a little more.

“I did, Daddy!” she exclaimed before he could continue. Lowering her voice about ten decibels, she followed up with, “Sorry.”

“What the hell’s goin’ on in here?”

The back door swung open, and following that dark, rich Texas twang was none other than the bane of her existence, Grant Kingsley, Dead Heat Ranch’s pain in the ass head foreman. He looked at Grace, then back out the door, probably at Casey running full out toward the bunkhouse to find the cook who apparently thought he was on vacation.

“Watch your mouth, Kingsley,” Grace muttered beneath her breath as she poured her coffee, purposely not making eye contact. It was bad enough that the mere sight of him made her blush. Especially after… She had things to do, and the first thing on her agenda was to get away from Grant as soon as possible because she damn sure didn’t have time to think about what she saw last Friday night.

“Yes, ma’am,” Grant said in that silky drawl, his mouth much too close to her ear as he passed by her, using his quest for coffee as his excuse to touch her.

Grace did her damnedest to hide her unwelcome reaction to the cowboy who’d been working for her family’s ranch for more years than she had been. “Where’s Lane?” she asked, pretending she hadn’t noticed how close he was.

“Haven’t seen him yet this mornin’,” Grant answered easily as he reached for a coffee cup in the cabinet above Grace’s head. “You lookin’ for him? I can see if I can locate him for you.”

Holding her own cup with both hands, because yes, they were trembling slightly, she eased out from between the tall cowboy and the unyielding counter to join her father at the kitchen table. “Nope. Just hadn’t seen him yet.” And wanted to make sure I didn’t run into him too, she thought to herself.

“Where’s Faith?” Jerry Lambert asked, her father’s question not directed at anyone in particular. Or so it seemed.

Grace sipped her coffee, once again pretending there wasn’t another hot cowboy walking through the back door of the ranch’s main house right about…

Now.

“Mornin’,” Lane Miller greeted as the back door slammed behind him.

His ears must’ve been burning.

Doing what she did best, Grace ignored him too as she answered her father. “Don’t know. She said she was stoppin’ by first thing, but you know, it’s only six-thirty. Some people like the sun to be up before they climb outta bed on Monday mornin’.”

Grace hadn’t seen her youngest sister since yesterday morning. In fact, she hadn’t seen any of her sisters because she’d managed to spend her one day off during the week hiding out from everyone, including her family, but most importantly, the two cowboys now hogging the coffee pot. Sunday was the only day she didn’t work, and in order to stick to that promise she’d made to herself about taking time to relax, she refused to head to the main house for fear someone would put her to work.

Or that she’d run into these two.

It always happened that way.

“How’s it goin’, Lane?” Jerry greeted one of Dead Heat’s few permanent wranglers, a man Grace tried to stay away from as much, if not more so, than Grant.

“Good, sir. Got a group coming in this mornin’. Plannin’ a day ride.”

Lane Miller had been working at Dead Heat Ranch for at least three years. For the most part, he handled the horses that they used for the trail rides. He also led those rides with the guests who frequented the place.

Did she mention that Dead Heat Ranch was a working dude ranch?

Grace’s father didn’t respond, just nodded his head. They were all used to it. The man ran one of Texas’s largest dude ranches, but he said very little. Unless, of course, one of the guests pulled him into a conversation, then you could pretty much guarantee the man wouldn’t shut up.

When she had drained her coffee, Grace pushed back her chair and got to her feet. Perfect timing, too, since Lane and Grant looked like they were settling in to stay awhile as they relaxed casually against the counter.

Rinsing her cup, she placed it in the dishwasher, murmured a goodbye to her father, and snuck out the door as fast as her feet would take her.

Grace hadn’t made it far when she heard the screen door slam once more. With her head down, she made a beeline for the barn, hoping like hell someone was there. Because if not, that meant she was about to find herself alone with one, or possibly two, nearly irresistible cowboys.

It’s the way her mornings usually went.

“Grace! Hold up!”

“No thanks!” she hollered back, not bothering to look behind her. “Not interested in what you’re sellin’, cowboy!”

The sexy chuckle that followed belonged to Grant. She would recognize it just about anywhere.

Shit.

Grace stepped into the shadows of the barn about the same time Grant caught up to her.

“What’s the rush?” he asked, and thankfully, he didn’t try to touch her, although he was close enough that she could smell the sexy scent of his aftershave.

“Workin’. You might try it sometime. I think it’s why we pay you, right?” Grace was purposely trying to piss him off. It was the only way she could usually put some distance between the two of them.

And she had a damn good reason to put as much space between her and…

“Hey,” Lane called, stepping into the barn just a few feet behind Grant.

… him.

Crap.

Double trouble. That’s what these two were.

“Go on, Gracie,” Grant taunted. “Give Lane your ‘you should be workin’’ speech. He’s waitin’.”

“Shut up.”

Sometimes she felt like a cantankerous teenager when these two were around. Especially Grant. She’d known him for more years than she could remember. He was, at thirty-two, only a few years older than she was, but at the ripe old age of twenty-eight, Grace knew she should be long past the stage where she went on the defensive with these two annoying cowboys. After all, she had managed to fend them off for… Well, forever.

And okay, so they weren’t so much annoying as they were relentless. But just like she had told Grant, she wasn’t buying what they were selling. Mainly because she had no idea what they were selling. Or to whom they were selling it. Based on what she’d seen just a few days ago, she wasn’t sure she had the right anatomy to fulfill either one of them.

“She’s back to that?” Lane asked in that laid-back, country drawl that didn’t fool her at all.

Just as she did every morning, Grace moved toward Astro Boy’s stall. It was the first item on her daily to-do list. Astro Boy was her five-year-old paint horse, and he was hers and hers alone, which was why she came to check on him every morning and again every afternoon. That was if she didn’t spend part of the day riding him around the ranch.

Although Dead Heat Ranch had a number of horses, most of them were geldings that they used for the trail rides with the guests. And due to the fact the guests were restricted to the more docile horses, no one was allowed to ride Astro Boy. And he knew it, too.

“Hey, boy,” she greeted him with a grin as she pushed open the metal stall door that kept him safely inside. Just seeing him could turn her mood from bad to good in an instant. “Miss me?”

She received a heavy snort and a nudge in response. Grace placed her palm flat on his wide nose and smiled up at him.

“I did,” Grant answered, although her question definitely hadn’t been directed at him.

Grace ignored him; instead, making her way into Astro Boy’s stall as she took his brush and went to work.

All hope of the two men going on about their business died when Lane came to stand beside Grant, both of them leaning casually against the inner wall of the stall. Glancing up, she noticed that Lane was, in fact, standing incredibly close to Grant. She quickly looked away, hoping they couldn’t read her mind.

Because if they could, they would probably realize that their secret was out.

Dead Heat Ranch

Welcome to Dead Heat Ranch, where the Lambert sisters—five incredibly strong and independent women—masterfully manage a dude ranch with the flair of a rodeo star and the efficiency of a well-tuned machine (albeit one that has its quirky moments).

The inspiration for this series sparked to life back in late 2013, thanks to the wonderful Kristen Proby, who encouraged me to dive into an anthology alongside some of the most talented erotic romance authors in the industry. My response? An enthusiastic “Hell, yes!!” — because why not embrace the adventure?

When it came time to write my novella for the anthology, I was determined to kick things off with an unforgettable start—think of it as a sizzling spark! If you’re familiar with my writing, you know that brevity isn’t exactly my strong suit; my novellas often transform into full-blown novels before you can say “quick draw!”

During a delightful conversation with a fan about those charming Walker brothers, it hit me—why not center a series around sisters? And let me tell you, these aren’t your average siblings. These cowgirls ride fiercely, play passionately, and keep the heat turned up both in the saddle and in life! Get ready for an exhilarating journey; it’s going to be an unforgettable ride!

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 5 stars for Dead Heat Ranch ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

“No one writes M/M/F like Nicole!” ~Kelly – Eye Candy Bookstore on Goodreads [Boots Optional]

“This book was so enthralling, the story line, the characters all made this book so great to read.” ~Marina S on Goodreads [Betting on Grace]

“Very cute read. Easy with not a lot of angst…and sometimes you just need that.” ~Lora B on Goodreads [Overnight Love]