Page 3 of Ropers Can’t Tie Knots (Kissing Ridge Cowboys #3)

Once I’m finished, I grab a few extra napkins and clean my hands. I’m three steps back towards the truck before I turn around and reach into my pocket for the change she handed me.

“Ginger ale, please.”

There’s always a price to pay for eating those things, and I’ll never learn. With a gulp of the calming ale, I smile as the sun shines on me.

Good lawyer news and a hot dog.

Heartburn or not, life is good today.

Gabe sent me a text last night that he was planning to arrive late Sunday afternoon. After confirming the address and directions, I set to work organizing all the receipts for the ranch and animal upkeep since my grandfather died.

The piles are large, and I organized them by date, then by property or animal expense. By the time I was finished, my head was pounding, and I cursed my past self for not keeping better track of things.

Last night I went to bed early, intending to have it all cleaned up before Gabe arrived. But it’s now late Sunday afternoon, and I’m just a tired cowboy, staring at paper piles and wishing they’d take care of themselves.

The muffled slam of a vehicle door outside sounds, signalling the arrival of my temporary roommate. I’ll have to get to this after Gabe is settled. If he has an issue with a messy dining room table, I hope he keeps his mouth shut.

When several minutes pass and there’s no knock at the door, I pull on my boots and go out to ask if he needs any help to find the entrance. He’s a city boy, so you just can’t tell sometimes. With all his fancy clothes and car, maybe he’s waiting for the bellhop or something equally absurd.

Gabe’s fancy ass car sits parked next to my truck, but the man himself is nowhere to be seen .

A high-pitched shriek sounds from close to the barn, and sure enough, there’s my new lawyer roommate standing on the rung of the fence and clutching at it like the ground is lava.

“Lord, they didn’t warn me wild animals were this close to the house.”

Gabe’s voice remains shaky, and a bark of laughter escapes my lips, though it’s not like I tried to keep it in. I can’t not laugh at the grown-ass man in khakis and dress shoes clutching at my fence like it will save him from whatever made his voice rise like he took a dodgeball to the nuts.

He turns his head towards me before dropping his head with a groan. “Ugh. This is completely embarrassing.” He says without letting go of the fence pole.

“What exactly is embarrassing, Gabe?”

Settling against the fence next to him, I look into the pasture to find Jackson’s horse grazing alongside mine. An older mare I couldn’t sell is also out there, but I don’t see what might make Gabe screech like he was being murdered.

“The, ah, the giant fuzzy thing that ran that way.”

Squinting, I look in the direction he’s pointing and can only come up with one possibility.

“You mean Lewis?”

“Would Lewis be a fuzzy thing with giant teeth that whistles like it’s possessed by a demon?”

Laughing again, I shake my head. Gabe is just as out of place here as I am at the lawyer’s offices in the city.

“Lewis is a groundhog. He whistles if he’s scared or trying to get your attention. You probably scared him because you’re new.” When Gabe still doesn’t step off the fence, I tap his shoulder. “He’s harmless, Gabe. You can get off the fence.”

He does, and I shake my head at his shoes. Fancy loafer sort of things. Not even a sensible running shoe for moving, but a…loafer. Does he ever dress down?

Gabe steps to the ground and dusts his hands off while casting a wary glance toward Lewis’s burrow.

“It won’t bite?”

“If you try to feed him, he might. He’s a wild animal.”

“Oh.” Gabe releases a shaky breath, and while I normally have zero patience for teaching city slickers about harmless wildlife, something about his fear makes me bite my tongue. “Are there, ah, more wild animals around I should know about?”

“Tell you what. Why don’t we get your stuff inside, and you can ask all your questions then?”

He clears his throat with a nod. “Sure. That would be great, thanks.”

He has brought little with him. A few suitcases, mostly, and I’m surprised he doesn’t have boxes of books.

“I thought you’d have loads of reference books or something.”

Now it’s Gabe’s turn to poke fun as we carry the last few bags in from the car.

“The few books I have are at the office, but it’s all online. I don’t own shelves of encyclopedias with case law. I’m not a lawyer from an ’80s TV show.”

He smirks, and I just can’t let him have the last word. “That makes sense. You just like to wear loafers to a ranch like an ’80s sitcom character, then? ”

He snorts and laughs. “Okay. We’ve established we both know the ’80s.”

Gabe kicks off his loafers that make me question how the fuck this living situation will work out. If he fills the bathroom with fancy lotions and shit, I might have to change my mind and tell him to leave.

We each carry two of his bags, and he follows me up the stairs. The first door at the top is his, and I enter, dropping the bags in the middle of the room.

“This is your room. It’s nothing fancy.”

Gabe looks around the room with a smile. It really isn’t fancy. It could use a paint job and a new light fixture, but I don’t get many guests here. Fixing it up isn’t high on my priority list.

“This is great, Hunter. It really is.” He opens the closet and mumbles under his breath. “I appreciate you doing this.”

“Not like I had much choice,” I respond with a pointed look. “If Jamieson hadn’t put me on the spot, I wouldn’t have offered.”

Gabe’s smile falters. “Are you always this prickly?”

“No. I’m usually worse.”

We stand there staring at each other. I can’t read his expression, and I give nothing away either. I’ll let him draw his own conclusions about why this arrangement might not end well.

Gabe just shrugs off my admission and smiles, carrying on like we both didn’t just make each other uncomfortable.

“Yeah, well, sorry about that, but your friends wouldn’t let the idea go once it came out. Thanks anyway, though. The housing market in Kissing Ridge is more competitive than I thought.”

I don’t know if that’s true or not, but he has no reason to lie about it .

“It’s fine. Listen…” I might regret this, but if he’s living here, maybe I should at least try not to be a complete asshole.

I owe that to Jackson and Riley, at least. Gabe is important to them, and if the roles were reversed, I’d want them to treat my friend better than how I’ve just welcomed Gabe.

Not to mention, my grandmother would likely cuff the back of my head for being rude.

“It’s getting late, and I know the grocery store closes early on Sundays…you’re welcome to join me for dinner later. It’s nothing fancy, but I don’t mind sharing until you get settled.”

Jesus Christ, why did that hurt so much to say? Has it really been so long since I’ve been a gracious host and polite human that it physically pains me to be nice?

Gabe nods quickly and smiles. His eyes crinkle at the edge, and he pushes his wire-rimmed glasses up. His adorable glasses.

“That would be super helpful, Hunter. Thank you so much.”

“Okay. Good. I’ll, ah, be downstairs then. Happy unpacking, I guess.”

Happy unpacking?

What the fuck is wrong with me?