Angol
Going home for the first time in years should be simple: move back in, help around the ranch when possible, and try not to mess everything up. But when I get there-after running out of gas, mind you-I discover the ranch and summer camp my late parents left us are on the road to ruin.
I can focus on the task at hand...or so I think. Really, though, I can't keep my eyes off the grumpy man in the cabin next to mine.
Dominic Diaz is fifteen years older than me and trying damn hard to look like he's not interested. He almost pulls it off-except for the way his Adam's Apple bobs every time I walk around in my tiny shorts.
Or in nothing at all.
But, to my great dismay, he won't do anything about it.
I try to stay away, but how could I? He's a little rough around the edges, with salt-and-pepper hair, a full beard, and deliciously calloused hands from working on the ranch day in and day out.
The tension between us rises.
The scorching touches burn brighter.
There's only so much teasing a man can take before he eventually falls into my bed. We say just once, to get it out of our systems, but that was another lie.
I break the cardinal rule: I fall for him instead.
Because underneath all that tough exterior, there's a soft man who makes me laugh, who wants the same thing I do-to turn this ranch around without losing ourselves in the process.
But secrets can only stay secret for so long.
