Page 124 of Tempting Wyatt

I don’t look up. Just tighten the bolt I’m working on and mutter, “Don’t recall asking for your opinion.”

Isaac snorts, before lifting a beer bottle to his lips. “And I don’t recall you ever being this wound up over a woman before.”

My grip tightens on the wrench. “Not wound up over anyone.”

“Uh-huh.” He makes a noise like he’s considering calling bullshit, then tilts his head. “So if it’s not the sexy city girl putting you in a mood, what is it?”

I don’t know, maybe the mountain of fucking debt and crushing pressure of not being the first in a long line of Logans to lose our family’s land.

I don’t answer, just focus on the task in front of me.

Isaac exhales, a little more serious now. “Let’s go into town tonight. Grab a drink.”

I shake my head. That’s the last thing I feel like doing. “Busy.”

“You’realwaysbusy.”

I finally glance up, narrowing my eyes. “Something wrong with working?”

“Not unless you’re using it as an excuse to avoid dealing with shit.”

I huff out a breath and wipe my greasy hands on a rag, already irritated with where this is going. “And what exactly do you think I need to deal with, Dr. Phil?”

Isaac stares at me for a long moment, the humor fading from his face. “You haven’t been out to grab a beer with me once since Dad passed.”

My jaw goes tight. “Look around, Isaac. I have work to do.” I gesture to the truck.

Isaac watches me for a few seconds, then shakes his head. “Look, man. If you’re not gonna blow off steam with that sexy new cabin tenant, and you don’t want to go out, come do some fly fishing with Willow and me. We haven’t done that in forever.”

Add it to the list of all the other shit I haven’t done in forever.

Laughed, fucked off for a few hours just because I could, gotten laid. . .

Though I have come very close to burying my aching cock in Ivy’s tight body. And I’ve felt her pussy fluttering all over my fingers and tongue. I’m half hard just thinking about it.

I miss the next part of his argument and tune in when he says, “City girl is at the main house baking with mom. You can at least hang with your family for a couple hours. Fish a little. Drink a beer. Maybe remember you’re still allowed to enjoy shit every once in a while.”

I exhale hard, glancing at the truck like it might get me out of this conversation. But I know Isaac. He’s not going to let it go. And hell, maybe he’s right.

Ivy keeps reminding me to spend time with my family, to appreciate them. And I told her I was going to.

Fishing with him and Willow sounds better than a crowded bar.

I toss the rag onto the hood and sigh. “Fine. We’ll go fishing.”

Isaac grins, clapping me on the shoulder. “Atta boy. I’ll go grab the gear and the cooler.”

I grunt, turning back to the truck, but not before I catch him looking way too pleased with himself.

THE RIVER ISQUIET THIS EVENING, just the steady rush of water and the occasional buzz of an insect past my ear. The sky is that perfect shade of silvery violet—the sun setting just beyond the mountain range.

Ivy would love it.

I find myself wishing I’d invited her along but she did look like she was enjoying baking with Mom.

I stand knee-deep in the current, flicking my line with the same steady rhythm I’ve known since I was a kid.

The last time we did this, about a year ago, Dad was here. Cracking jokes, making plans for winter, and reminding us to check on old man Peterson because his wife was sick.