Page 12 of Tempting Wyatt (Triple Creek Ranch #1)

CHAPTER TEN

wyatt

“TAKE CARE OF THEM, SON. It’s your responsibility.”

In my mind, I heard my dad saying the words over and over as I fought for sleep last night. The phrase he used frequently when I was growing up. Whether it was calves or geldings or my siblings, he taught me to care for them and reminded me often that they were my responsibility.

I’m halfway out the door, trying to shake off the aftereffects of a shitty night’s sleep, when I remember I have to pick Ivy up this morning. I text Isaac to cover for me at the morning meeting. I have a feeling the Hollywood princess won’t be dressed and ready for ranch work when I arrive.

But when I get to Ivy’s cabin—Jesus, now I’m even thinking of it as hers—she’s waiting for me on the porch.

I’m ten minutes early. I expected her to oversleep. Or maybe I just hoped she would.

She stands there in jeans and running shoes with a white tank top under a long-sleeved forest-green zip-up hoodie that looks child-sized.

“Those shoes won’t work,” is how I greet her, still feeling all kinds of fucked up after our weird encounter last night.

She’d fit in so well at dinner, like she was already part of the family. I hadn’t expected that and didn’t handle it well.

I don’t bring women to meet my family, mostly because I don’t spend more than one night with them myself. I have to keep reminding myself that I didn’t bring Ivy here either. And yet I feel responsible for her.

There’s a part of me—a part I’m trying to ignore—that didn’t like sharing her with my siblings. Somehow, since the moment she arrived on the property, a possessive part of me has begun thinking of her as mine.

She glances down, lifts a foot, and inspects it, as if she forgot what shoes she put on. “Why not?”

I sigh deeply, knowing this will slow us down. But then I knew that when I agreed to this. Hence why I already told Isaac to handle the morning meeting.

“You have any boots?”

Her teeth sink into her lower lip. “Um, maybe. But they have a stiletto heel.”

I rack my brain. Sutton and Willow probably both have some old boots up at the house.

“What size shoe do you wear?”

“Six and a half. But I can wear some sevens if they’re made small.”

She’s made small. I try not to let my overeager dick think about what other parts of her might be small.

Tight.

Fuck.

I’d probably tear her petite body in two. My dick jolts awake at the thought.

It’s going to be a long damn day.

I climb onto the ATV then gesture for her to do the same.

I don’t explain because I don’t have the energy at the moment.

I’m too busy trying to figure out how I’m going to function all day with her enticing scent wafting all around me.

My hope is that the livestock smell will drown it out.

I’ve never been so grateful for the potency of animal shit in my life.

“Wait,” she says breathlessly in my ear. “I have something for you.”

My heart speeds in my chest, every inch of my body hyper-aware of her behind me, focused on each point of contact between us. Her breath against my bare neck, her warm pussy spread open behind me. Her legs wrapped around mine.

She hands me a folded white square. The waiver. I’d forgotten. Which was pretty fucked up since I knew firsthand the damage a lawsuit could do.

“Right. Thanks.” I take it and tuck it into the pocket of my shirt.

Our eyes meet and, in my mind, I pull over in the clearing and fuck her senseless on this four-wheeler. She comes and moans and claws my chest like a wild animal.

My dick seconds that motion.

Down, buddy.

I’ve got to get laid.

The six months of deprivation has made me sex and touch-starved.

That’s all this is. I just didn’t notice it before she arrived because I was focused on work.

Like I should be.

She’s beautiful and conveniently close by. But she’s also a paying guest—my mom’s very first paying guest—and currently residing on my property. Not a good idea.

The only other guest we’d ever had was our cook Miss Lottie’s sister.

Miss Lottie’s real name was Loretta but none of us could pronounce it as kids so Lottie had stuck.

I couldn’t remember her sister’s name, but she’d stayed for a weekend and told my mom she’d leave a positive review online.

At that time, I hadn’t known what she’d meant and hadn’t given it a second thought. Obviously, I should have.

When we arrive at the house, I know I need a minute. And at least a hundred feet of space.

“Stay here,” I tell her before heading into the house to find Sutton’s spare boots. I’m pretty sure she wears around the same size as Ivy.

I locate them quickly in the mudroom, but I still need time to clear my head of the Ivy-induced fantasies.

Paying guest. Paying guest.

Don’t need another situation like Nina.

The thought of Nina should be enough to kill my erection for the rest of the day.

But it’s not.

Five minutes later, I’m on my knees, shoving Ivy’s small feet into Sutton’s boots, and I’m fucked.

So very fucked.

When I pop her heel into the boot, I glance up, and she’s already watching me.

She’s not looking at the boots. Her gaze blazes into my skin.

There’s an inferno of heat in her eyes, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, like she’s thinking about something she shouldn’t be.

I’m pretty damn sure I know what it is because I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I first laid eyes on her.

I’m old enough to know when a woman is thinking about fucking me.

We could agree to something casual while she’s here.

The thought barely takes shape before I kill it, standing abruptly once both boots are on her feet. “You want coffee?”

“I had a cup back at the cabin.”

“One cup isn’t gonna cut it, Hollywood. It’s a long day.” I nod toward the house. “I’ll grab you a thermos.”

More like give myself some more time to stop thinking about how good she’d feel beneath me.

Inside, I fill a thermos with coffee, adding cream and sugar—because she looks like the kind of girl who takes her coffee sweet. And then I haul my ass back outside before my mind drifts somewhere it shouldn’t.

We ride to the stables in silence. Well, I’m silent. Ivy comments on every single thing she sees. I keep my responses limited mostly to grunts.

There’s too much to do today. I don’t have time for distractions.

For whatever this is.

I have a ranch to run. I don’t have the luxury of playing grab-ass—no matter how perfect the ass in question might be.

“We missed the morning briefing, but Isaac handled it,” I tell her.

Her expression flickers, like this somehow disappoints her. “Because I didn’t have the right shoes?”

“Because I didn’t think to grab you a pair of Sutton’s boots at dinner last night. It’s not a big deal.” I nod toward the pastures. “Isaac covers for me when needed. We’ll do a lap on the ATV first and make sure there aren’t any fires to put out.”

She quirks a brow. “Literal or metaphorical fires?”

“My luck? Could be either. Odds are fifty-fifty.”

We cover ground quickly—checking fences, making sure cattle aren’t stuck in the creek beds, running through the usual feed and water checks.

I do my best to focus on the work and not on her arms around me.

With each passing hour, she surprises me.

She helps without being asked. Doesn’t complain once.

Caleb and Isaac gripe more than she does.

By the time we finish the morning chores, she’s still smiling, and I’ve somehow managed to keep my temper in check while ranch hands blatantly checked her out at every stop.

“How do you feel about riding?” I ask, shutting off the four-wheeler and leading her toward our family’s private stables.

Ivy’s eyes widen. “Um, I’m a fan of riding.”

A blush rises in her cheeks, and I don’t know if it’s from the heat or because she’s thinking about something else entirely.

Coughing to clear my throat—and my damn head—I nod toward the saddles as we pass through the double doors. “Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

She eyes the curious animals warily. “My mom dated a guy with horses when I was a kid. I rode a few times.”

Sunny lifts his head in the far stall, looking for attention, and Ivy grins as she steps toward him. Buckeye stretches his neck over, too, hunting for affection.

Lucky and Chief must be out in the pasture.

She scratches each of them briefly on the neck, then glances at me. “They like me.”

“These guys have no chill around an attractive woman.”

The second the words leave my lips, she stills. The air between us shifts.

I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“Guess they can’t all be growly, axe-wielding mountain men,” she teases, smirking up at me.

My gaze drops to her mouth—her full, kissable mouth—and for a split second, all I can think about is how badly I still want to taste her.

Instead, I school my expression and saddle up Sunny. “This is Sutton’s horse. He’s a gentleman. Good for beginners.”

She’s all smiles as I walk him out the door and help her into the saddle. My dick’s pretty excited about her perfect ass in my face as I lift her into the seat, but I do my best to ignore it.

The larger horse in the closest stall snorts loudly.

Ivy laughs from the open doorway. “Who’s that guy?”

“That’s Buckeye. He’s Willow’s but didn’t do well at the equestrian center she runs so he’s here most of the time. Stronger bloodline, but a grumpy asshole sometimes.”

She arches a brow. “So, you have things in common with your livestock then?”

“Cute,” I grunt, mounting my horse, Jameson, and guiding him to move beside her.

She laughs, the sound like wind chimes in the air between us. And I feel it like a punch to the chest.

Just make it through this damn day.

Observant one that she is, she sees the black Arabian in the paddock. “Why is that one off by himself?”

“That’s Lucifer. He was my dad’s horse. Not a social guy. Prefers his space.” She leans over like she might try to head that direction on Sunny, but I block her path.