Page 125 of Tempting Wyatt

Isaac’s a few yards away, chatting with Willow—relaxed, practically charming the damn fish right out of the water. Willow is in a lawn chair she brought, sipping a beer and telling us about her day.

“Ivy’s very pretty,” she announces suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, and my hand jerks, snagging my damn line.

I bite back a curse as Isaac chimes in. “She’s more than pretty,” he says, smirking. “She’s drop-dead damn gorgeous. A man would have to be blind not to notice.”

His stare warms the side of my face but I remain focused on the water.

“She seems super sweet, too,” Willow adds. “Fits in well around here from what I can tell.”

I grit my teeth and focus on untangling my line.She’s breathtakingly beautiful,I want to say but I know better. I willnottake the bait.

Apparently, this wasn’t an impromptu fishing outing like I was led to believe. I know an ambush when I see one.

Isaac hums, a smug, amused sound. “Makes me wish Mom had rented her the cabin closer to mine instead of Wyatt’s.”

Willow laughs—the typically pleasant sound now grates on my nerves.

“The two of you yammering all evening is going to scare all the fish away,” I say evenly, careful not to let my irritation show. In our family, once they smell weakness, you’re done for.

Isaac coughs loudly. “You seem kind of twitchy, brother. That’s what’s scaring the fish away. Something bothering you?”

I shoot him a look. “Not twitchy.”

“You’re a little twitchy,” Willow argues. “Please tell me you have a crush on the rental tenant, too.” She grins. “It’s like something straight out of one of my romance novels. Two brothers fall for the same beautiful city girl.” She drags a hand over her heart dramatically. “She’s torn between the broody one and the charming one.”

“That’s not how real life works,” I mutter, casting my line again, jaw tight.

“Says the broody one,” Willow comments.

Isaac barks out a laugh. We might as well give up fishing altogether.

“That’s not howyourlife works. I’m the charming one that always gets the girl. But you? You’re not that guy, pal.”

I ignore him. But our sister is just getting started.

“Maybe you’re right,” she muses. “Maybe Wyatt isn’t the hero in this story. Maybe Ivy’s fated mate is actually. . . ” She pauses—dragging out the moment, enjoying this way too much—before her gaze lands squarely on Isaac. “The charming cowboy.”

Tension rolls through me like the ripples in the water, fingers tightening on my rod.

Isaac grins. “Nowthat’sa story I could get behind. City girl and me, riding off into the sunset.” He sighs, shaking his head like he’s picturing it. “I could enjoy California. You’d miss me, though, wouldn’t you, Wy?”

Maybe with the first swing. Not with the second.

My jaw clenches. “You’re not riding off anywhere with anyone. You can barely focus on the same woman for five minutes. These fish have a longer attention span than you.”

Willow gasps. “Oh my God, look at him. He’sseething.”

I glare at them both. “I’m not seething.”

Isaac’s grin stretches wider. “It’s giving seething, bro. That’s definitely a scowl.”

I give up casting and stripping the line, reeling it in to move to a spot farther away from them. If I say one more word, I’ll just dig myself in deeper. Because the idea of Isaac and Ivy together?

Has my blood running dangerously hot.

Fated mates. To hell with that.

I can admit that he makes her laugh. Makes her smile. Amuses her. I’ve seen it.