Page 7 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy (Wild Hearts Ranch #1)

I’ve met plenty of women, both Betas and Omegas, over the years. None of them made me want to throw them over my shoulder and lock them in my bedroom until they smelled like me inside and out.

That’s exactly why unmated Omegas shouldn’t live with Alphas.

Hunger can drive you mad, make you do things you’d never consider with a clear head.

It’s why they usually travel with protection, why they stay indoors, and why many end up in cities with the Omega institutes, dating match organizations, and heat clinics.

Walker is staring at her with an intensity that borders on predatory. Even Ridge is barely blinking.

“The guesthouse,” I blurt out before anyone says something stupid. “You can have the whole thing to yourself. It’s private, no Alpha scents. Far enough from the bunkhouses and anyone else, but close enough if you need anything.”

Relief washes over her face as her shoulders drop. “That would be perfect. And I promise to stay out of your way unless I’m helping on the ranch. I work from home anyway. Social media management. As long as there’s Wi-Fi, I can work from anywhere.”

“You’re covered, then,” Ridge adds.

“Amazing.” She almost smiles.

“Come on, then.” I push to my feet, needing to move before the tension in this room suffocates us all. “I’ll show you the guesthouse. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

I grab her bag from where Walker left it. She says goodbye to the guys and follows me out, and the late afternoon air is a relief after the charged atmosphere inside. I catch myself slowing down just to keep her in my peripheral vision.

“So this path continues on to the main barn,” I point at the stone passage as we walk, my voice remaining neutral.

“That’s where we keep the horses for training.

Over there is the cattle barn, and past that is the equipment shed.

You’ll want to stick to the marked paths until you learn your way around. ”

“The ranch is huge.” She sounds genuinely shocked.

“Easy to get lost if you don’t know where you’re going.”

We keep walking, then she says, “So your friends seem nice.”

I almost laugh at the careful way she says it. “They’re good men and my pack. Little rough around the edges, but solid. Rose gave us a chance by hiring us when no one else would.”

That’s when we approach the guesthouse. It’s smaller than the main house but newer, built maybe ten years ago when Rose was thinking about taking in paying guests. Never happened, but we’ve kept it maintained.

“It’s perfect,” she says, smiling at the sight.

“Two bedrooms, full bath, kitchen’s stocked with basics.

” I pause in front of the porch steps. “Now, the big building on the other side of the main house is where Cookie holds court,” I continue.

“We’ve got a full kitchen and dining hall there.

Breakfast at five, lunch at noon, dinner at six.

You’re welcome anytime. Cookie makes enough to feed an army, and he’ll be thrilled to have someone new to fuss over.

Anyway, your guesthouse keys are on the kitchen table inside. ”

“I don’t have to cook? Sounds amazing,” she muses.

“Not unless you get a hankering for it.” I grin. “Most doors are also almost never locked anyway, ranch tradition, but feel free to keep yours locked if you feel safer.”

We stand there, awkward. Then she’s got her hand out for her bag, but I don’t want to give it up yet. Don’t want this to end.

“Well,” she says finally. “Thanks for… everything. Really.”

“Our door’s always open,” I manage. “If you need anything. We’re just…” I gesture vaguely toward the main house. “You know. There.”

Smooth, Winslow. Real smooth.

She wrestles her bag from my grip and heads toward the door. I force myself to walk away, not sprinting like my body wants. About halfway back, I risk a glance over my shoulder.

She’s on the porch, watching me. Our eyes meet and she flushes, disappearing quickly inside.

I grin all the way back to the house.

Ridge and Walker are still in the parlor, now with beers in hand. Ridge tosses me one without asking.

“So.” I collapse onto the couch. “We’ve got ourselves a house guest for three months. Should work out fine.”

“Yeah, if you can keep it in your pants,” Ridge states. “Saw the way you were drooling over that poor Omega.”

“Fuck you very much. She’s just… different.”

“Think it might be a scent match?” Walker asks, way too casual. “She smelled like temptation, but I’d need to get closer to be sure.”

“Sure you would.” I take a long pull of beer. “For science.”

“We should give her space,” Ridge suggests, ever the practical one. “Girl looks ready to bolt if we breathe wrong. What she needs is protection, not desperate Alphas sniffing around her door.”

“I can protect her just fine up close,” I argue.

“With what? Your animal magnetism?” Walker snorts. “Face it. You’re already half gone on her.”

“When the horse fits,” I start, but Ridge throws a cushion pillow at my head. I dodge it.

“No. No more wisdom. Go make a fucking advice column for the local paper already.”

“Y’all are just jealous of my philosophical nature.”

“Sure!” Walker grins. “Thought it was just another symptom of being dropped on your head as a baby.”

“Fuck you both sideways.” But I’m grinning too. This is what I love about my pack. We can go from intense to stupid in seconds flat.

“Seriously, though,” Ridge leans forward. “We need to be careful. She’s our boss now, technically. And she’s alone, unmated, probably scared under all that sass. If we spook her, she could make our lives hell. ”

“Or kick us out,” Walker adds quietly.

The reminder sobers us all. This ranch is everything to us. The only real home we’ve ever built together.

“We’ll be smart about it,” I promise. “Keep things professional.”

They both stare at me.

“What? I can do that.”

“You were just hiding a hard-on with your hat earlier in your seat,” Ridge points out.

“That’s… Shut up.”

“Anyway, I got a few more things to finish,” Ridge adds, so he and Walker head outside. I end up in my bedroom, needing space to think. To breathe air that doesn’t carry her scent.

Except my room faces the guesthouse. And there she is, moving inside, past the window.

This is bad. This is very, very bad.

I’ve gone too long without sinking into a woman. Plenty of Betas in town are happy to scratch that itch, but I haven’t had any desires. And I’ve never been with an Omega. Never wanted to deal with the complications.

But this one… Christ, this one is calling to something primal in me.

I unbuckle my belt, pop the button on my jeans. My cock springs free, already leaking. What the hell? I haven’t been this worked up in a long time.

She appears on the porch for a moment, staring out at the fields. The setting sun turns her hair to flame, and I’m already fisting my cock, rough and desperate.

One hand braced on the wall, the other working my length like a man possessed. I picture her in my truck again, that scent wrapping around me. Imagine peeling those leggings down her thighs, spreading her out on my bench seat.

In my mind, she’s bare and perfect, crawling over my lap. She’s dripping wet, her breasts in my face as she straddles me. I take one pink nipple into my mouth, and she moans my name…

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I hiss, pumping faster. My knot is already swelling at the base, something that usually takes a lot more work.

She shifts on the porch, hips cocking as she leans against the railing, and I’m done for. I come with a growl, barely managing to grab tissues in time. Still make a mess on the curtain like some kind of animal.

I’m panting, watching her disappear back inside.

Three months of this sweet torture.

She’s going to destroy me. Turn me inside out and leave me howling at her door like a beast stripped of its mate.

And the worst part? I’m already looking forward to it.

Damn it all to hell.