Greyson (Cloves County Cowboys Book 1) Read online

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  Published by The Hartwood Publishing Group, LLC,

  Hartwood Publishing, Phoenix, Arizona

  www.hartwoodpublishing.com

  Greyson

  Copyright © 2017 by Amelia Shea

  Digital Release: March 2017

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Greyson by Amelia Shea

  The last place on earth Britt Montgomery envisioned herself taking up residency is in Cloves County, Montana. But that’s exactly where she lands when she becomes heir to the Whisper Point ranch. With her newly inherited property, Britt finds herself in Big Sky Country, eager to sell her ranch, take her money and get back to where she belongs fast. But life has a different plan for this city girl.

  Rancher, Greyson Fords lives and breathes the Triple R. As the oldest son, he was born and bred to one day take over the family land. There is nothing or no one who could ever stand in the way of the success of the ranch. With news of the coveted Whisper Point property up for sale, Greyson is eager to get the property back into the hands of the rightful owners. His family.

  The term opposites attract could have been coined for Britt and Greyson. It may not be love at first sight, though it certainly is lust at first sight. When these two meet, there is no denying their chemistry and insatiable desire for one another. The prospect of a quick fling once the papers are signed on their deal isn’t such a poor prospect for either of them. It’s a win-win.

  However, the simmering fire goes up in flames when Britt has a second thoughts and reneges on their deal, opting to not sell the ranch and take a chance at running it herself. War is officially declared and these once possible lovers find themselves as sworn enemies. Then the games begin…

  But there are some things that can’t be denied and the more these two stubborn ranchers go head to head, the more sexual fuel it ignites. When their passion proves too much to resist, they call a truce and set their sights on their happily ever after.

  But even the best love stories come with their share of obstacles. When Britt and Greyson hit a major one with a story of lies, set-ups, and the ultimate betrayal, these two unlikely lovers may be torn apart.

  Dedication

  For my mom, the strongest woman I know.

  Prologue

  “Five minutes, Britt!”

  She glanced over her shoulder, nodding her head and then turning back and rolling her eyes. Her boss insisted on giving her fair warning when her break was almost over. As if she couldn’t tell time. Please! Although, her ongoing pattern of taking a longer break than her allotted fifteen minutes might be the reason.

  She smirked at the older man sitting across from her in the corner table set in the back of the café. “I need a new job. Something more glamorous with a little more freedom.” She snorted. “I need to be a boss.”

  Cal’s eyes crinkled as he raised his coffee to his lips. “What you need is to finish college.”

  Britt took a deep breath. Getting her degree was exactly what she needed to do. However, it wasn’t what she wanted. What she wanted was to win the lottery. Hey, a girl could dream. Someone had to win, why not me? She decided the first thing she’d do when she got off work was buy a ticket. The first step in winning was to actually purchase it. She mentally calculated what she had in her pocket and bit her lip. Shit! Maybe next week.

  “When do you take exams?”

  “Not for another month. Enough about school, tell me about the ranch.” She folded her arms and leaned up against the table. She loved hearing about Montana.

  Cal chuckled, setting his mug down on the table and leaning back in his chair. “Not much more to tell I haven’t already shared with you.”

  This was true. She had spent all her breaks at the café where she worked listening to Cal’s stories, descriptions, and everything she could take in about his new ranch. He’d bought it as a retirement gift to himself, finally fulfilling his dream of living on a ranch.

  “Tell me about The Point, again.”

  Cal’s wrinkled face gave her a soft smile. He’d told her about it a dozen times, though she never got tired of hearing about it. She was born and raised in the city with bumper to bumper traffic and scarce views of nature, other than parks, and pollution thick enough to make her gag. The Montana he described was the polar opposite of everything Britt had known. She was intrigued.

  “It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen. A sky so brilliant blue and clouds threaded through, swirled together to make the most breathtaking blanket that covers those rolling green pastures and white peaked mountains. You’ll feel as though you’re staring at an endless world atop that hill.”

  Britt could almost see it in her mind, almost feel herself on the point. An endless world? Not in Pittsburgh. You could barely see down the street. His description was her escape.

  “And the air? Crisp and clean, you’ll swear you’ve never taken a ‘real’ breath in your life until that moment.”

  She inhaled deeply, keeping her eyes locked on Cal.

  “It’s serene, contentment didn’t exist until that very moment. The peace that washes over you on that Point is indescribable, really. You’ll see it, you’ll feel it, you’ll know it.”

  Home, her mind whispered.

  Chapter One

  “I’m here, I’m here!”

  Britt raced through the door, her feet sliding across the floor before making an abrupt stop in front of the register. She had run almost five blocks from the campus parking lot to work. She took an uneven deep breath and blew it out, fluttering her blonde bangs.

  “I’m not late.” She panted, slapping her hands on the counter across from her boss, Leona, at That Café.

  Leona cocked her pencil-thin dark eyebrow and looked up at the clock above Britt’s head. Lowering her glare to Britt, she lifted her hands to her hips.

  “You start at three and it’s two fifty-eight now.”

  Britt grinned. “See, I’m early.”

  She slipped her sweater down her arms and started off toward the break room. She had worked at That Café for two years. Her plan was to not work while in school, keeping her focus on her studies. It’s what her dad had wanted. It worked out fine for her first three years. However, the bills started piling up and the money from the estate had been dwindling due to her tuition. She was left with two choices, starve or find a job.

  If she had to work, this was the place. Although Leona tried her best to be a hard ass—a part she played flawlessly—underneath her armor she was really a softy. She made sure to schedule Britt’s hours around her classes, reminding the younger woman of the importance of finishing college, in her own Leona brash way. Britt chuckled, remembering the conversation from last week when she mentioned she might take a semester off.

  “I don’t want to see you still here in five years. This job is meant to be
part time, not a damn career. Consider this a warning: next year at this time, you’re fired.”

  Britt entered the kitchen and waved to Mills and Fran, who were cleaning up.

  “Hey, guys.”

  Fran smiled and Mills shook his head. “Are you late again?”

  Britt continued through the kitchen, holding up two fingers in the air. “Two minutes early.”

  She heard their snickering from behind her as she headed into the small Employees Only room.

  Fran and Mills had worked at the café long before Britt started. They were married and retirees. Fran told her they had spent two weeks at home together before realizing if they wanted their marriage to survive, they needed to find part-time jobs. Ironically, they both worked at the café, though usually they had different shifts.

  “You start at three, I expect you behind the counter taking orders at three o’clock,” Leona ranted, following behind her. Leona was a surrogate mom to those who worked for her. Not having any kids of her own, she felt a certain ownership over her employees, even Mills and Fran, who were older than her. Of course, seeing her employees as her kids sometimes meant enduring a scolding.

  Britt shoved her bag and sweater in the small locker. “Sorry, Leona. It won’t happen again, I promise.” She hitched the lock on the locker before turning around and smirking at her boss. “You look fabulous today, did you lose weight?”

  Leona gave an exasperated sigh and shook her head. “Yes, it will happen again, and don’t try to get on my good side, I don’t have one today.” Clasping her hands together in prayer, she pleaded, “Please, try, Britt, try to get here on time, please. Hell, you make me look like I’m picking favorites when you do shit like this.”

  “Ha!” Britt shouted, pointing at Leona.” I knew I was your favorite.”

  Leona rolled her eyes. “None of you are my favorites. I despise all of you, equally.” She spun around and started out the door. “Check your box, there was a message for you. And get on the floor.” Her tone was demanding but endearing.

  Leona had put a message box in the break room last year. Britt never checked it unless she was told she had a message. She was convinced Leona only added the box so she had somewhere to put all their written warnings for their fuck-ups. Britt currently had seventeen, making her ranked the highest among all her coworkers. She wore it as a dysfunctional badge of honor.

  Britt grabbed the paper from her slot.

  Harold Lancaster called for you this morning. Call back at your earliest convenience.

  She stared at the paper and the phone number. Who the hell was Harold Lancaster? Racking her brain, she tried to think, but she was sure she’d never heard the name before. Leaning against the wall, she sighed. Shit! Do bill collectors leave messages? She started to tally up her incurring debt in her head. She could feel a migraine coming on.

  “Britt!” Leona yelled impatiently from the floor, causing Britt to jump. The woman had a set of lungs on her.

  She shoved the piece of paper into her back pocket and started through the doorway. Mr. Lancaster would have to wait until after her shift.

  Six hours and fifteen minutes later, Britt locked the doors after the last customer. She took a few steps and dropped her butt into a chair at one of the tables. Toeing off her shoes, she stretched her feet while rolling her neck. Everything ached. She yawned loudly, triggering Mills to giggle at her theatrics as he walked from the kitchen to the dining floor. She smiled back at him, shrugging her shoulders. “I need a hot shower, then my cozy bed. This whole job thing sucks, Mills.”

  He snorted, shaking his head. “You’re too young to be tired and complaining.”

  She resigned herself to the fact that what he was saying was probably true. At twenty-three, she should quit her bitching. She stood up, afraid if she sat much longer, she might fall asleep. Leona would have her ass if she caught her sleeping instead of cleaning up.

  It had been a long day.

  She had spent the morning selling back her textbooks at the library. Unfortunately, a hundred other students had the same idea. After hours of waiting, she finally got her money and got out of there. She was hoping to walk away with more cash. However, the texts she’d bought had been old and worn to begin with. The guy at the bookstore told her she was lucky to get anything back. Britt smiled while uttering, Shut up, prick, in her head.

  She turned the chair upside down, placing it on the table. She hated closing the shop, mainly because she detested sweeping, or any other form of cleaning. Mills grabbed the chairs from the table across from her and helped. They were on the last table when she heard the phone ring.

  “Britt! Phone’s for you,” Fran shouted from the back.

  Looking over at Mills, he jerked his head to the counter. “Go ahead, kid, I’ll finish up.”

  Smiling, she walked behind the counter and grabbed the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, is this Miss Montgomery?” The scratchy voice on the other line was a man, older, seemingly professional, and completely unfamiliar.

  Oh, shit! Britt froze, trying to think fast. Were bill collectors even allowed to call her at work? She looked up at the mug-shaped clock on the wall. It seemed a bit late for bill collectors to be calling. She sighed heavily.

  “Uh…yeah?” she responded, fidgeting with the corner of her apron, biting her lower lip. She had perfected the art of dodging the collectors in the last six months. However, she was unprepared for them to track her down at work.

  “Hello, Miss Montgomery, you’ve been difficult to find,” he said with a chuckle which vibrated through the phone. Britt bit down harder on her lip and flinched at the shock of pain. Licking her lip, she cringed at the metallic taste of blood. Gross.

  “Well, then today must be your lucky day, because you found me.” She mocked him sarcastically while trying to mentally calculate how much she could spare from her account to pay this guy enough to get him off her back. Credit cards were the devil.

  He snickered again. “I guess it is. You’re probably wondering who I am and why I’m calling. My name is Harold Lancaster, I’m the attorney handling the Forrester estate. The reading of the will has been postponed until you could be found.” She could hear papers being shuffled in the background. “I was hoping we could schedule a time for you to come in. Tomorrow, perhaps?”

  Britt straightened from the counter she had been leaning on. What did he just say? Lawyer? The Forrester estate? Reading of the will? What the hell was this guy talking about?

  “Wait, who are you?” she asked, utterly confused. This must be some kind of mistake. She didn’t know anyone named Forrester, although it did sound vaguely familiar. This had to be a mistake, who the heck would name her in a will?

  “Harold Lancaster, from the Lancaster & Dunn law firm.”

  Yes, he definitely had the wrong person. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least it wasn’t a bill collector. “Look, Mr. Lancaster, I think you have the wrong girl. I don’t know any Forrester, or anyone who would leave me anything in their will.” She was about to say “bye” and hang up when he spoke again.

  “I don’t think so. Miss Britt Montgomery, twenty-three years old, student at Breyer University and waitress at That Café.” He paused. “Beautiful, funny, and a smart-mouthed young lady is how Cal described you. One of a kind, he said.”

  Her brain was in the midst of processing when she suddenly froze. Cal. Oh God, Cal Forrester, she knew it sounded familiar. She slumped down against the counter, her hand bracing her weight, and stared down at the linoleum floor. He died? She tried to swallow, but the lump lodged in her throat was making it difficult. The floor became slightly blurred before a single tear dropped below. She quickly wiped her eyes. No crying.

  “Cal died?”

  “Yes, my apologies, Miss Montgomery, I assumed you knew of his passing.”

  Cal had been a customer long before Britt started working there. Leona described him as kind, quiet, and a fabulous tipper. She’d be the first
to admit it was the original reason why she made a point of serving him. She was a struggling college student with limited funds. Cal’s generous tips wouldn’t change her life, but it had been the difference between homemade mac and cheese versus the box kind on more than one occasion.

  He was sixty-five, a recently retired computer technician for some big company in New York. He was a self-proclaimed workaholic. He had never married or had any kids. He said he didn’t think it would be fair to have a family when he was really married to his work. He had created some software which proved to be lucrative. He didn’t explain it in great detail. Britt got the impression he’d spent so much time devoted to his work that he enjoyed talking about something other than computers and business with her.

  They were an unlikely pair, but it worked.

  He came in at least four times a week for the past two years since she started working at the café. She liked Cal. There was something about him. It took her a while to figure it out, but eventually she did. He reminded her of her dad. Not looks-wise or even personality, but his heart, kind and friendly, was just like her dad.

  Losing her dad after her high school graduation was the hardest thing she’d ever gone through. It had been just the two of them since her mom died from cancer when she was five. She didn’t remember her. She had lots of pictures and mementoes—Britt’s dad made sure she had keepsakes—but no memories. She would have traded all the pictures for just one memory.

  Her dad spent the rest of his life until the day he died, five years ago, making up for her not having a mom. He became her mom and dad. It was probably why he never remarried. He didn’t want her to have to share him. He had been forever sacrificing for her.

  In some ways, Cal and her dad were alike—honest, hardworking, devoted guys. Cal devoted to his job and her dad devoted to her. And now, just like her dad, Cal died. She bowed her head, her eyes drawn to the tile floor. This sucked.