Page 34 of Tempting Wyatt (Triple Creek Ranch #1)

I frown, inexplicably wounded on Wyatt’s behalf. “She knew where he lived, right?” I doubt the eighteen-thousand-acre ranch was a secret. “And it wasn’t a problem until school ended and she wanted to move away?”

Isaac shrugs as we resume our swaying. “I think she ended up marrying a farmer in, like, Idaho or Nebraska or something, so who knows? We all suspected she just wanted Wy to chase her down. Show her that he cared. But he doesn’t operate that way. He’s not romantic, like me.”

He winks and I shake my head.

“High school was a while ago. That was his last serious relationship? He’s, what, in his early thirties now?”

I can’t help but wonder if he is still carrying a torch for this girl if he’s avoided relationships for over a decade.

“Yeah. Thirty-two unless I missed his last birthday.” Isaac pulls another contemplative face.

“So he doesn’t date at all? What about the Nina thing?”

I’m prying, and I know it, but Wyatt is locked up like a vault. Isaac and Laurel are probably the only ways I’m ever going to find out anything about the mysterious man.

“Maybe you should ask him,” Isaac says, turning me gently in his arms to face the entrance of the bar.

My eyes widen when they land on my rugged rancher in the doorway, looking as angry as the day we met. Like a bull about to charge, he heads our way with intent in his darkened gaze. No axe this time at least.

Isaac chuckles lightly in my ear. “Told you.”

I tear my eyes from where Wyatt approaches to look questioningly at Isaac.

“Heavy shove,” he answers with a wink.

“Hey,” Wyatt says gruffly when he reaches us. “You got something in your eye?”

Isaac chuckles. “Nope.”

“Then stop fucking winking at her.” He frowns. “Mind if I cut in?”

Isaac takes a step back. “As long as the lady doesn’t mind.”

Wyatt’s eyes meet mine. Breathing becomes difficult. The full weight of his possessive energy pulls me toward him like a magnet. I can hear my heart beating in my ears. I don’t know how he does this to me. Hell, I don’t even know what this is.

“Well?” He rakes his hand over his messy, dark hair, ruffling it slightly.

God, he looks good in his black henley and what I suspect are the nicest pair of jeans he owns.

Unable to make my mouth form words, I only nod as he takes me in his arms.

“You smell good,” is what tumbles out of my mouth. I close my eyes, embarrassed.

Quiet laughter rumbles in his chest as I look up at him. I feel miniature in his arms.

“As opposed to smelling like a farm animal, like usual?”

My lips curve of their own accord. “You know what I mean. You smell like soap, expensive cologne, pine trees, and leather.” I breathe him in deeply. “And maybe something minty.”

“I think you just described what the cab of my truck smells like.”

“I like it.” I love it. Could drown in it happily, but I have a feeling love is a word that would make him uncomfortable. Despite how smoothly he moves us across the dance floor, his stiff posture tells me he’s a few miles outside his comfort zone already.

“I’m glad,” he says, the low octave of his voice heating my skin all over.

A slow song about cowboys and angels begins to play.

Wyatt pulls me closer. “I wasn’t planning on coming here,” he admits softly beside my ear. “To the bar, I mean.”

Swallowing thickly, I realize I’ve lost track of Isaac. Pretty much the entire rest of the crowded bar disappears in my mind. All that exists in my little world is this man and the music.

“I wasn’t planning on coming to Montana,” I confess to his chest. “But I’m glad I did.” I pull back to look up into his eyes.

His handsome face is a mask of disbelief. “Because you really enjoy life as a ranch hand? Mucking stalls makes you happy, Hollywood?”

I scrunch my nose. “No. Because I’ve never seen anything like you or your ranch in real life. Because the moment I stepped out of my car and inhaled Montana air, I felt like I could finally breathe.”

I don’t know where all this is coming from, but I’ve opened a floodgate by admitting it.

Words keep spilling out of my mouth. “It’s funny; I’ve never gotten attached to anywhere I’ve ever lived.

Or visited. Side effect of moving so much as a kid, I guess.

But here—this town, this land, the ranch—I know it will be a part of me long after I’m gone. ”

I didn’t realize how true it was until I said it out loud.

Wyatt startles me by standing completely still. He stares at me for what feels like a full minute. Couples two-step around us as the band transitions into a song about spinning someone around on the dance floor.

His giant hand cups my chin as his thumb brushes my lower lip. My knees go weak.

I couldn’t have written this moment if I’d tried. Wyatt’s presence and the intensity of his stare say more than any words I’ve written ever could.

“What do you want from me, Ivy?”

I attempt to swallow, to breathe, to calm my raging hormones. I fail. “I’m not sure. I just want. . . ” I trail off, unsure how to voice what I want because I don’t know that I ever have.

“You looking for something fun? No strings? Just a tourist hoping to ride a cowboy on vacation? Because I have to tell you, honestly angel, that’s more Isaac’s speed.

If I fuck you, there will be strings, sweetheart.

Maybe some rope. I couldn’t focus for shit thinking about you being here with him. ”

A million thoughts race through my mind.

To hell with no strings. I want you to kiss me, to claim me, to make love to me until the sun comes up. I want you to fix the broken parts inside of me because it feels like you’re the only one who can.

I’m losing my mind. I can’t say any of that out loud.

Drowning in his gaze, I open my mouth, praying nothing stupid will escape. “What can I have from you?”

He lets out a light chuffing sound, like a laugh, but not quite. “Name it. It’s yours.”

Pressing my lips together, I arrange the desires in my mind into something comprehensible. First things first.

“I want the truth.”

He dips his chin closer to me. “About?”

“Tell me why you came here tonight. When you weren’t planning on it.”

His brow furrows. I caught him off guard.

We resume swaying, and he presses his mouth close to my ear. “My mom is really attached to Isaac.”

I pull back to see if I can decipher how this relates by looking at his face. I can’t.

He continues, “Charming bastard that he is, I knew if I didn’t get here soon, he might talk you into his bed. Then I’d have to kill him. Would break Mom’s heart.”

And here, I didn’t think this man could be funny.

Shaking my head, I laugh. “Pretty sure he only invited me here to annoy you or provoke you.”

His eyes meet mine. “That might be his story. But I don’t buy it. And I wasn’t risking it.”

I cock my head to the side. “So, it would be a problem for you if I hooked up with your brother?”

He appears unconcerned. “Not at all. It would be a problem for him.”

“You’re a mess, Wyatt Logan.”

He leans in so close that I’m certain he’s going to kiss me. But he doesn’t. “Speaking of messes, I was thinking of the one you left on my hand the other night.”

Instantly, I’m burning up all over. “I’ve been thinking about that too,” I confess. “A lot.”

His eyes gleam under the hanging string lights above us. “Is that the only truth you were looking for?”

I chew the inside of my cheek and think it over. “I want to know what you thought the first time you saw me.”

He chuckles darkly in my ear. “I thought you were going to be a pain in my ass.”

I glare up at him, but his grip on my waist holds me in his warm, solid embrace.

“A ridiculously gorgeous pain in my ass,” he adds.

“That’s marginally better.”

He breathes in deeply. “What did you think when you first saw me?”

His answer was honest, so I’m honest as well.

“That you were scary as hell, and I hoped I could climb you like a tree and maybe sit on your face at least once before I left.”

My skin nearly bursts into flames. I only had one beer with Isaac. I can’t believe I just said that out loud. Thankfully, Wyatt doesn’t look as horrified as I am by my admission.

“Just once?” The thick lump in his throat bobs as he swallows.

Breathing becomes more difficult by the second. “Or as many times as possible in two weeks.”

We’re already a week into this. The expression on his face tells me he’s doing that math now.

His jaw clenches, and the muscle in his temple flexes visibly. “You ready to get out of here?”

I nod because I was ready the moment I saw him in that doorway. “Should we tell Isaac we’re leaving?”

“He’ll figure it out.”

I bite my lower lip because part of me wants to be alone with Wyatt as soon as possible. But part of me can’t stand the thought of rudely ditching the sweet guy I came here with without letting him know I’ve got a ride back.

My conflicted expression must be answer enough.

Wyatt huffs out a breath but takes me by the hand. “Fine. Let’s find him and tell him I’m taking you home. Quickly.”

Home. The word settles in my chest with the warmth of melted caramel.

We find Isaac near the bar, but there’s a crowd slowing our progress as we make our way to him.

When the female bartender sees us, she gives Wyatt a friendly grin before asking if we want anything to drink.

They seem familiar with each other. She’s very young and very pretty.

Wyatt looks at me, and I nod. I could use something to take the edge off.

“Sure,” Wyatt tells her. Then he turns to me. “What would you like to drink, baby?”

A million butterflies take flight in my stomach at hearing him call me baby. I try not to look as affected as I feel. “Um, an amaretto sour, please.”

He nods and orders my drink and his whiskey.

When he hands it over, I’m pleasantly surprised that it’s sweet but not too sweet and contains two Luxardo cherries, which I love and could eat by the jar. But I’m not that interested in drinking. I want to find Isaac, thank him for bringing me tonight, and tell him goodbye.

Then dead sprint to Wyatt’s truck and drive a million miles an hour back to the ranch.

Wyatt is paying for our drinks, and I’m still scanning the crowd for the quickest path to Isaac when a blonde woman much taller and leaner than me steps in front of us.

She’s wearing a low-cut hot-pink halter minidress and a white cowgirl hat that matches her ankle boots.

Her outfit reminds me of a drill team high-stepper from high school.

“Been looking for a real cowboy to ride,” the blonde says. “Looks like I’ve finally found one.”

My stomach tenses, but I sip my drink and pretend to be interested in the pool game beside the bar. Wyatt’s a big boy, if he wants to tell her to kick rocks, he can. And if he doesn’t, then I’ll know what kind of man I’m dealing with.

“Sorry, I’m just a rancher,” Wyatt says evenly. “That over there,” he points to where Isaac is chatting up a redhead nearby, “is a real cowboy.”

She grins slyly up at him, reminding me so much of Heidi. “Cowboy, rancher—they’re all the same.”

“Not really,” Wyatt informs her dryly.

I almost want to give her the speech I got when I assumed they were the same. I half expect him to, but I’m relieved when he doesn’t.

“I might be willing to make an exception for tonight. I’m from out of town and heading back in the morning,” she says, entirely undeterred by his lack of interest and my proximity.

Wyatt clears his throat and takes a long swallow of his whiskey. “What a coincidence. Ivy here is from out of town too,” he tells her. “Maybe you two can chat while I go grab your cowboy.”

With that, he smirks at me and heads toward his brother.

“So where are you from?” the blonde asks.

“Oh, we’re really doing this. Okay then.” I polish off my drink and set the empty glass on the bar. “Los Angeles.”

Her petite face scrunches, like she smells something rancid. “Oh. California. Wow. I’ve been to Santa Barbara before.”

I nod. “I’ve never been but I hear it’s nice.”

She glances around in search of someone more interesting. Unfortunately, everyone near us is already engaged in conversation with someone else.

“So,” she says softly, dragging out the O for an extra few syllables, “you and the rancher then? I didn’t mean to step on any toes. I actually thought you came in with the other guy. The cowboy he pointed to.”

Clearly she’s clocking every man that comes through the door. Or maybe just the really hot ones, which is understandable.

“I did ride here with the cowboy. Isaac. I’m just renting a cabin on their ranch, is all.”

Although I did just confess to Wyatt that I’d like to ride his face, among other things.

Isaac is adorable and probably the most charming man I’ve ever met.

But there is something about Wyatt. He keeps his words to himself, unless he has something valuable to say.

He carries himself like he’s in control of every room he enters and commands attention without trying.

And, okay, if I let my baser instincts decide, his ass in those jeans is hypnotizing.

I have functioning eyeballs so I was attracted to him the minute I saw him. But the more time I spend with him, the more time I want to spend with him.

I’ve never felt this way before. In my previous relationships, I found spending too much time together suffocating. With Wyatt, I can only breathe deeply enough when he’s nearby.

These realizations must be compliments of the booze. I vow not to drink any more before I start composing an ode to his perfect ass.

I can barely look at him when he returns and pawns his brother off on the blonde. Isaac immediately begins chatting her up with ease. Within two minutes, they’re laughing and talking like they’ve known each other forever.

“So, you just passed on a sure thing,” I say, nudging his shoulder.

“Not my speed,” he says, holding eye contact until I get twitchy. “This was so much easier when Asher and Caleb were both here to be his wingmen.”

I bite my lower lip, praying my teeth can hold my words in.

They can’t.

“So, what is your speed?”

He tilts his face toward mine. Our gazes collide, and I feel his words as he speaks them. I see the tension ripple across his face at how hard he tries to hold them inside.

“You, Hollywood. You’re my speed.”