Grumpy Cowboy, an all new steam and laugh-out-loud romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe is available now!
Read my 5 ⭐️ review HERE.
ATTENTION: If you have been a victim of false advertising, you may be entitled to compensation. If you were ever hired to take care of a fourteen-year-old boy’s knee injury on a luxury ranch in the Middle of Nowhere, Utah, but that fourteen-year-old boy ended up being a tall, rough-and-tumble, muscular, one-hundred-percent all-man cowboy by the name of Rhett Jameson, you may have been put at risk for falling in love. Please seek counsel immediately.
Dear Counselor,
It was supposed to be simple favor for my very important boss, Frank Kaminsky of the Salt Lake Slammers professional basketball team—go to his good friend Tex Jameson’s luxury ranch and provide personal medical care for his recently injured teenage son.
I thought it’d be a working vacation of sorts—a chance for my city-girl self to experience something I would never otherwise do—but everything is upside down, and absolutely nothing is as I thought it would be.
For one, this patient is not a teenage boy.
He’s a real-life, blue-eyed, tough-as-nails, thirtysomething cowboy who is so darn strong he looks like he could lift a car just for the heck of it.
He’s also stubborn, rude, and we don’t get along…at all.
Add in the heart-melting vision of him as a single father to the cutest little girl on the planet, and I’ve found myself in a whole different dimension of trouble.
Lust. Feelings. A whole lot of enemies-to-lovers-style complication.
Please help me. My name is Dr. Leah Levee, I am a victim of false advertising, and if I’m not careful, this Grumpy Cowboy might just be the death of me.
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Excerpt
Leah
Gently, I rap my knuckles against the wood, and moments later, an adorable little blond-haired girl comes running down the hall and right toward me.
She pushes the screen door open with one of her cowgirl boots and steps out until she can keep it open with just her hip. With pigtails and dimples and big blue eyes, she just might be the cutest kid I’ve ever see in my life.
Is this Rhett Jameson’s little sister?
“Who are you?” she asks, ignoring any sort of greeting and getting straight to the point.
I grin. “My name is Leah. What’s your name?”
“Joey,” she answers, her small hands moving with her words. “Well, Josephine, but everyone calls me Joey.”
“That’s a very pretty name.”
“And you’re a very pretty lady,” she says, and her eyes move up and down my body, taking in my hair and my face and my dress and my shoes. “Maybe the prettiest lady I’ve ever seen. Are you in movies?”
“No, I’m not in movies,” I answer on a soft laugh. “But you know what’s funny?”
“What?”
“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my whole life.”
She giggles, and then her eyes get big. “Wait…oh my goodness! Are you here to teach me how to braid my hair?” Her button nose crinkles up in the most adorable way. “My granny told me she’d teach me how to do it, but I think she can’t remember, and is that why you’re here? Because you know how to do it?” she asks, and her short legs bounce up and down ever so slightly.
“Uh…” I pause, completely entranced by this sweet little human, but also utterly confused. “Actually, sweetie, I’m not here to teach you how to braid your hair. I’m here—”
“Aw, shucks.” She swishes one fist from her right hip to her left hip, and her tiny mouth points down at the corners.
Immediately, I feel like the worst human being alive, and it takes everything inside me not to step inside the house and ask her to get me a hairbrush.
But I rein in the emotion and offer up something I hope will soften her disappointment.
“How about this? Since I’m going to be here for the summer, I’ll make sure someday very soon, I teach you how to braid your hair.”
“Yeah?” Her big blue eyes light up like the sun. “Ya promise?”
“I promise.”
Truthfully, I’m just assuming this young girl lives here on this ranch, but I have no idea.
I don’t know if she’s Tex’s daughter or someone else’s daughter. I don’t really know much of anything. Haven’t known much of anything since I told Frank Kaminsky I’d take this job.
But so far, feeling out of the loop appears to be par for the course.
The girl steps out of the house on her tiny cowgirl boots and wraps her arms around my waist. “I’m so excited, Leah!”
I’m shocked at first by her instant affection, but it doesn’t take long before I’m putty in her teeny hands.
“Me too, Joey.” A tickled laugh emerges from my lungs, and I pat her head tenderly.
Eventually, she steps back and puts one hand to her hip. “So, if you’s supposed to be here all summer but it’s not just for my hair, why are you here?”
“I was just about to ask the same thing, Joey.” A deep, raspy voice fills my ears, and that’s when I realize someone else has joined our conversation at the door.
My eyes move up, up, up past Joey and land on a pair of perfectly worn-in jeans, over a shirtless and firm set of abs and an even firmer chest, and they don’t stop until they meet aqua-blue eyes that are pointed directly at me.
Holy shit.
This rugged, fine-as-hell specimen standing right behind Joey isn’t just any man; he’s the manliest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. His body is stretched tight with the kinds of firm muscles that do not come from protein shakes and a gym membership to LA Fitness. No. These are real muscles, made from hard, sweaty work on a big-ass ranch like this.
If you typed the words “hot cowboy” into Google, I’m pretty sure this guy would be the number one search result.
And he looks so damn strong, so physically capable of anything, I honestly think he could lift a car just for the fun of it.
With brownish-red hair that looks almost gold in the sunlight, a sharp jaw that’s peppered with some scruff, and full lips that are set in a firm line, I can’t help but wonder who is this guy?
Rhett Jameson’s…older brother? His uncle?
Some kind of familial male figure?
He clears his throat, and that’s when I realize just how long I’ve been standing here staring at this slightly irritated, but also handsome-looking, cowboy like a moron.
Uh…hello? Earth to Leah? Now would be a really great time to remember how to speak…
About Max Monroe
A duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads.
Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far.
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Professor Romance 