Read Ropin' Trouble (Cowboys of Nirvana Book 2) for Free Online Page B

Women have visited before hoping that was part of the package, you know what I mean, but nope. There’s something about a cowboy that gets all of the women flustered. Must be the hat.”
    Her skin tingled in embarrassment. What had she gotten herself into? She wondered if all of the cowboys at Nirvana looked like Dade. No wonder women flocked there, willing to pay. Just looking was visual therapy. Her curiosity got the best of her. “How old are you, Dade? I hope that’s okay to ask.”
    “Sure. I’m twenty-three. Next month’s my birthday and I’m hoping Chase will give me the go-ahead to become a ranch hand.”
    “Oh, so you’re not a hand but a…?”
    “Helper. I do whatever Boss tells me to do.”
    “And this Chase, he’s the boss?”
    “More than a boss, ma’am. He’s the owner.”
    She nodded. “Right. Are there a lot of cowboys at Nirvana?”
    “Enough to go around.” He concentrated on the road ahead. “You feeling better now?”
    “I am. Can you, well, will you tell me about the ranch?”
    He chuckled. “One word describes it all. Paradise.”
    “Paradise. I read that in the brochure.” Many ideas popped into her head. She wondered if it were a paradise as in men walking around naked serving drinks with umbrellas.
    “The brochure doesn’t even begin to define Nirvana. And there’s lots of peace, serenity. We’re miles away from neighbors and shopping.” He pushed a button and the AC kicked on, instantly cooling her skin.
    “I thought I read on the website that there’s a small shop on grounds.”
    “There is, for toiletries and personals. But you won’t find a Starbucks or Macy’s at Nirvana.”
    Her brain cells were on fire. From what she read about the ranch, she would be in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by country. She didn’t mind. She wasn’t a Starbucks kinda girl anyway.
    Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into a narrow, gravel road blocked off by a tall, black iron fence. Dade pushed a button on a remote and the gate opened. No signs announced where they were except for one that read in bold, red letters, “No trespassing. Private property. Violators will be prosecuted.”
    The brochure had assured privacy as an utmost priority on the ranch and only individuals who met all qualifications would be invited as a guest. When she’d received the acceptance letter in the mail, she’d been at a cross between pure shock and enthusiasm.
    Cara had thought about the adventure over and over, and when she couldn’t think of one good reason not to go, she mentally listed a dozen why she should take the plunge. The biggest motivation was the chance to go against everything she’d ever been, or ever thought she was. She’d never been a huge risk taker—or even a small one.
    “Here we are, ma’am.”
    She lifted her chin and stared across lush green fields scattered with purple wildflowers. “Beautiful.” Further ahead, horses—pretty horses with long manes—ran along the white fence that surrounded the pasture. In the distance she could see the mountain range that reached so high that the tips touched the low clouds.
    The lane came to a Y and Dade followed the road to the left. “The other way takes you to staff quarters. There’s some space between the two sides, and between guests lodgings, for privacy.” The road turned narrow and bumpy. Cara held on so she wouldn’t be thrown around in the seat.
    “That’s not the first I’ve heard of privacy. It must be very important here.”
    He shrugged. “Guests come here to get away. Have you ever fished?”
    “No.”
    “You should take it up. There’s a pond on the North side of the ranch. Nothing relieves stress like fishing. Nirvana is all about destressing. Have you tried essential oils?”
    “No, I haven’t.”
    “You have a variety in your lodge. Try ‘em out. I once knew a woman who gave me a massage using some oil that smelled like cinnamon. Best rub down ever.” He brought his eyes to her. “Sorry,