Page 11 of Playing Dirty (Millionaire Cowboys of Lucky Ranch #2)

Chapter Eleven

Proof and Promises

Rhett

T he road home stretched out before us—familiar, wide-open spaces.

We had stopped a few times to eat and stretch our legs, but Sawyer hadn’t spoken much since we left Casper. Neither had I, except to call Tessa and Colt and tell them what we had found. I had promised to stop by when we returned so that we could devise the best plan to break the news to Callie.

We didn’t need to talk. The images were still too fresh: the woman in the window, Matt grinning like he had nothing to hide.

That kind of lie doesn’t just happen once. It takes practice.

Repetition.

As we crested the last ridge, the gates of Lucky Ranch came into view. Patchy snow clung to the ground, and the old windmill we’d restored last spring spun lazily in the cold breeze. Beyond it, the fence line dipped toward the pond, cattle dotting the pasture like moving shadows.

We used to call this our second chance—me, Sawyer, Colt, Easton. Four cowboys who hit the Powerball and didn’t know what to do with all that luck. We could’ve lost ourselves in it.

Some days, I think I did, but the money didn’t keep me up at night.

Callie did.

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel as we turned onto Colt and Tessa’s long drive.

Their place sat near the east slope of the property, close enough for help, far enough for privacy.

The house had grown over the months—more space for babies, Dalia, gear, dogs, and the kind of chaos that made it a home.

“You sure about this?” Sawyer asked, finally breaking the silence. His tone wasn’t challenging. Just tired.

I cut the engine and stared at the porch light flicking on automatically as dusk settled.

“Nope,” I muttered, grabbing the door handle. “But I’m doin’ it anyway.”

This wasn’t just about Matt; it never was. It was about Callie and how I might have to break her heart to save the rest of her.

Tessa opened the door with one hip, wiping her hands on a dish towel. One of the twins shrieked like a banshee somewhere behind her, and the other followed suit. Chaos, toddler-style.

“You two look like you’ve been dragged behind a truck,” she said, stepping back so we could come in.

“We need to talk… to make a plan,” I said, skipping past hellos.

But she didn’t move. Her eyes cut sharply between Sawyer and me. “Hang on. You’re not the only ones with news.”

That stopped me cold.

Colt stepped in behind her, one kid on his hip and the other trying to wriggle up his leg like a koala. “Tell ’em, Tess,” he said, voice low but tense.

She pulled her phone from her back pocket and handed it to me. “Lilly sent this over late last night. She was working on her customer list for a Valentine’s sale next year and remembered an old order that stuck out. Said it hit her funny.”

I looked down at the screenshot she had texted me—an invoice from almost a year ago.

Recipient: Melinda Rose Downing.

Delivery: Casper, Wyoming.

Card: I’m sorry. I’ll be home soon. – Matt

The asshole had even wired her daisies—Callie’s favorite flower since she was a kid. Jesus.

Sawyer leaned over my shoulder, face tight. “I’ll bet my millions that it’s the same woman we saw in Casper.”

I handed the phone back to Tessa, blood pounding in my ears.

Colt shifted the kid on his hip. “He didn’t just cheat on Callie.”

“No,” I said, my voice coming out like gravel. “The dirty bastard has been cheating on his wife.”

Sawyer nodded grimly. “He built himself a second life. Right under everyone’s nose.”

Tessa crossed her arms. “And she’s been questioning everything lately. Blaming herself for the distance. Thinking she wasn’t enough.”

A thick silence settled between us.

This wasn’t just lies and betrayal. This was architecture. A whole damn blueprint of deceit.

It hit like a hammer—Matt didn’t just screw up.

He engineered every bit of this.

We all settled around the kitchen island like it was a war table—Tessa brushing cracker crumbs from the granite with her forearm, Colt rocking one twin in his lap while the other clutched a juice pouch with both hands like it was a life source.

Sawyer leaned forward, elbows braced like he couldn’t sit still another second.

Me—I just gripped the edge of the counter like it might hold me together.

“Callie’s staying at the cabin,” Tessa said, eyes landing on mine. “She went back last night after the power was turned on, and she got her propane tank filled.”

My heart thumped once, sharp and hard.

“She was supposed to pick up Pixie today.” Tessa’s voice was soft as she reached down to scratch behind the cat’s ears. “She called—said she had to work late and asked if I could keep her another day or two. I told her not to worry, I’d hang onto Pixie as long as needed.”

God, that woman. Still trying to hold everything together, even when it’s falling apart beneath her. I exhaled through my nose. “Then I’ll invite her to my place for dinner tomorrow night.”

All three of them looked at me.

“It has to come from me,” I added. “She deserves to hear it from someone who?—”

I didn’t finish that sentence. But they heard it.

Tessa nodded. “I’ll cook. You figure out the time.”

Sawyer straightened. “I’ll be there too. Just in case she needs facts straight from the source.”

Colt passed the baby to Tessa and rubbed his temples. “Your mother can watch the twins. She is good at reading them a story before they go to bed. But Tessa…” He gave her a look, firm but tender. “You’re not cooking. I’ll call Ropers and have something delivered.”

I nodded. “Good idea, Colt, but I’ll do the ordering. You and Tessa have enough to handle. Now, back to the subject at hand.” I looked each of them in the eye. “Callie can’t feel ambushed if it gets too much, back off. Let me take it from there.”

Tessa reached for her mug. “What if she doesn’t want to hear it?”

That one landed like a stone.

I glanced at the window, at the wide stretch of Lucky Ranch out beyond it—the fences, the fields, the life we’d built on the backs of one lucky moment and a whole lot of grit.

“Then I’ll sit beside her in silence until she does.”

A quiet beat stretched between us.

Sawyer gave a slow nod, like maybe he understood. Colt didn’t say anything—just looked at me with something between warning and respect. Tessa… she studied me with that soft-eyed, sharp-sensed gaze she always saved for people she loved.

And I realized something, right then.

This wasn’t just about truth.

It wasn’t even just about protecting Callie.

It was love.

God help me, I loved her, and I wasn’t about to let the last man she trusted be the one who broke her.

I stepped out onto Colt and Tessa’s front porch just as the last of the sunlight melted behind the hills. The air had that early winter bite to it—sharp, clean, the kind that filled your lungs and made you feel alive whether you wanted to or not.

It should’ve calmed me.

It didn’t.

The door creaked behind me, and then Sawyer was there, beer in hand, leaning his elbows on the railing beside me. He popped the top with a flick of his thumb and let the cap fall between the slats with so many others.

“Feels different now, doesn’t it?” he said, watching the horizon like it might answer back.

I nodded, hands shoved deep in my jacket pockets. “Money changed everything. But she changed me more.”

He looked over at me then. Just looked. Steady and unblinking. “Then don’t screw it up.”

My jaw flexed. “I’m trying not to.”

Sawyer took a long pull from his beer, then exhaled through his nose. “Trying’s good. But tomorrow… that’s where it counts.”

I nodded again, slower this time because he was right.

This porch, this stretch of land—it all held the weight of what came next. Tomorrow wasn’t about revenge. It wasn’t about catching a liar or proving a point. It wasn’t even about the million-dollar secrets we’d all come to carry like scars.

It was about a woman I’d known since childhood, who used to sleep in a camping trailer beside Tessa in my side yard. And tomorrow, I’d meet her differently armed with truth, not power. No smugness. No “I told you so.” I wasn’t going to stoop to Matt’s level.

“I’ll stop by the market in the morning,” I said, flicking my bottle cap into the tin can on the railing. “Ask Callie over for dinner.”

Sawyer tipped his head. “Sounds like a plan.”

I looked out across the field, the last sliver of light bleeding from the horizon. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “She deserves that much.”

This time, I wouldn't let her walk away without knowing exactly what she meant to me. I stood and stretched, my shoulders tight from running on fumes. “Come on,” I said, nodding toward the truck. “Let’s head home.”

Sawyer rose without a word, falling into step beside me as the porch creaked beneath our boots. Tomorrow was coming fast—and I was ready for it.