Page 40 of Tempting Wyatt (Triple Creek Ranch #1)

He’s ripped, six pack abs that belong on a magazine full of cowboy porn. But his chest is scarred like he survived a bear attack.

Unlike the others, who look like razors are rarely part of their lives, this one is clean-shaven with longish hair falling into his bright blue eyes.

I could put him in movies. He’s the unruly, damaged sort of beautiful that would make him the perfect male lead. Or the murderer, whichever. If it wasn’t for the untamable energy he radiates, even from ten feet away, I’d ask if he’d ever considered acting.

His eyes meet mine, then move to Antonio’s. “Is it Friday?” He takes a step toward me. “Please tell me she’s from—”

“She’s a guest of the ranch. A guest of the Logan family.” There’s a sharp warning in Antonio’s voice. “Mind your manners, Colter. Or you’ll find yourself without a job.”

The last three words sound more like dead in a ditch.

His thick Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows his disappointment.

“Well, damn.” He forces a smile at me, then reaches out the hand that isn’t holding his towel. “They call me Colter. It’s Lane Colter actually, but you can call me whatever you’d like, beautiful.”

This one is definitely a wrangler, then.

“You want me to call you Beautiful?” I tease, placing my cool hand in his warm one. “I’m Ivy.”

“Ivy . . . ” he prompts, as if expecting my last name.

“Just Ivy is fine.”

He grins. “Where you from, Just Ivy?”

“California,” I say, and he groans dramatically in response, releasing my hand briskly.

“Should’ve figured. And here I was, planning to propose.”

Antonio rolls his eyes. “Back up, Colter. And put some damn clothes on.” He turns to me. “I’ve got to step outside and make a call. You good?”

I nod. “I think so. If Beautiful here is the most dangerous one, I should be fine.”

That gets a laugh from the group as Colter retreats in search of pants, and then Antonio is gone. I’m called into the kitchen, where I’m given a paper plate with two slices of pizza piled on it and a bottle of a local IPA.

Beer isn’t typically my first choice, but the ice-cold citrus-infused stout is amazing with the pizza.

I sit at the card table with Houston and the guy I think is Marcos joins us.

Once everyone is eating, the atmosphere is much more relaxed.

Or maybe it’s because Antonio left. Either way, there’s teasing, some kind of feud revolving around a video game they begin playing once the football game ends, and a group gathering at the card table to play poker.

I’m realizing I can’t eat my second slice of pizza when a petite but full-figured blonde who looks about Sutton’s age steps out of the room Colter came from.

She’s wearing a tiny tank top and cutoff shorts the size of underwear.

She is very, very sexy. An abundance of girl-next-door beauty, playing dirty-doll dress-up.

“Colter, what the hell?” she hisses.

Several guys glance over at her, then pull annoyed faces at Colter.

Resounding shouts of, “What the hell?” and “Fuck you, dude,” fly at Colter.

He grins and shrugs. “I told you to go out the window.”

“You said you’d grab me a jacket and—” She glares at me. Glares at Colter even harder. “You said women weren’t allowed in here on weeknights.”

“They aren’t,” about five guys say in pissed-off unison.

I feel much less welcome than I did a few minutes ago.

When Colter resumes eating pizza at the card table, she folds her arms across her ample, exposed chest. “Judd, you want to walk me to my car?”

The cowboy, who I suspect is the other wrangler, with the shaved head and black goatee stands.

He has a sleeve full of tattoos and a hot ex-convict vibe.

I glance at Colter to see if he minds another guy walking his date to her car.

He winks at me and goes back to his poker game, completely unbothered.

Judd gives her his jacket, and a ranch hand, whose name I’ve forgotten, stands.

“I’ll come, too, if you’re good with that, Randi?”

She pauses, bites her lip, and slings another dirty look at Colter, who ignores her completely, now caught up in his card game.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Let’s get out of here.”

During all that, I somehow inhaled the second slice of pizza I didn’t think I had room for. I throw my paper plate and empty beer bottle away and pull up a seat beside Colter.

“You want to play, California?”

I nod. “Sure. Deal me in the next round.”

I study him closely. He has the jawline of a movie star but deep scars across his lip and one eyebrow. He did put on jeans, but he’s still shirtless, revealing several more healed wounds across his back and shoulders.

It’s abundantly clear he slept with that girl, then showered, then went to put on pants, which took longer than it should have.

Then left her alone in there, half dressed and told her to sneak out the window when it’s barely fifty degrees outside.

Now two of his buddies are walking her to her car.

Which sounded like code for fucking her.

And he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“I can feel you judging,” he says without taking his eyes off the game.

“Not judging,” I say quietly. “Just curious.”

A blazing blue gaze turns to mine, and his voice is low. “How curious?”

I maintain his stare. “Very.”

“I don’t want to scandalize the Logan family’s special guest,” he says, his tone mocking.

“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

He clears his throat and folds his cards, then tells the others to deal him out the next round.

Before I have time to think, he leans close enough that our shoulders touch and speaks low in my ear.

“Randi Lynn works at The Wild Coyote and The Sapphire Club. On her rare nights off, she comes here. To work and to play. If enough of us are paying, we use the pool table. If not, we use the back bedroom. Sometimes, she brings a friend.” He tosses me a salacious smile.

“And sometimes, she fucks me for free just for fun.”

A thrill of arousal runs through me at the thought. I can completely understand how someone surrounded by all these alpha males could get caught up.

Another hour in here, and I might end up on the pool table.

It’s like a completely different world exists on this ranch below the surface of wholesome Logan family dinners. After seeing Isaac leave the bar with two women, I’m realizing those two worlds aren’t so far apart.

A moment later, my theory that these guys are alpha males is shot to shit. Because there can only be one alpha, and he bursts through the door like someone shouted, Fire!

Wyatt’s eyes search the bunkhouse wildly until they land on me. Every other man in the room cowers like they’ve been caught doing something illegal. Except Colter. He makes an amused sound in the back of his throat and smirks. But even he ducks his head when Wyatt’s glare swings to him.

They’re all relatively tall and muscular, but Wyatt seems like a giant in this small space—one who’s about to crush them all with a single blow. I half expect him to be holding the axe again.

I pull my cardigan back onto my shoulders from where it had slid halfway down my back, as if my exposed shoulders are somehow indecent.

“Hi,” I say nervously when Wyatt approaches. “Did you find your bulls?”

“Some of them.” His hard stare lands on Colter for a solid minute.

I frown. No one has done anything wrong. “Want some pizza? I think there’s—”

“What are you doing in here?”

I gesture at the card table. “I was about to play cards and—”

“It’s time to go. I’ll take you back to your cabin.”

I fold my arms, like Randi Lynn did earlier. “Um, I have the side-by-side. And I want to play cards.”

He arches a brow. “Antonio took the side-by-side. You’re riding back with me.”

The call Antonio made must’ve been to Wyatt. I want to feel betrayed, but I should’ve known better.

Wordlessly, Wyatt stalks over to the kitchen and opens a beer from the counter before leaning against it. His eyes remain on mine.

“Fine. Play cards. I’ll wait.” He takes a slow swallow of his beer.

The playful energy of the ranch hands’ R-rated banter is sucked immediately from the room.

The weight of their boss being here settles over them, killing the mood, and I feel responsible.

I’m pretty sure, aside from Colter, they were already censoring themselves for me.

Now it’s as if their drill sergeant has arrived.

The men playing video games sit up straight, staring at the TV without speaking. The card game has all but stopped.

I toss Colter an apologetic glance, but he only looks amused at the tension.

“It’s fine. I was getting tired anyway.” I stand and turn to Wyatt.

Then I nearly melt where I am because, damn, his dark eyes have turned possessive. I’ve never had a man look at me this way. Not even a man I was dating or engaged to marry.

“Rancher,” I say softly, struggling for air, “you look mad. Are you mad?”

His eyes roam over my body. “Depends.”

“On?”

“You ready to go?”

I nod. He jerks his chin, and I’m pulled forward by his magnetic abilities. He places a hand on the small of my back and leads me outside.

No one says goodbye.

The cool evening air is refreshing. I inhale deeply, realizing how stifling and warm the bunkhouse was.

The four-wheeler sits close by the door.

“Can I drive?”

Wyatt looks almost amused by my inquiry. “You’re really pushing it tonight, huh?”

Maybe I’m high on adrenaline or testosterone or buzzed from the beer I had. Either way, I’m feeling bold. Something about him busting in there like he thought he’d find me in the middle of a gang bang was pretty hot

I grin up at him. “Isaac taught me to drive the other one. Can you teach me to drive this one?”

“In that dress?”

“Sure. Why not?”

He holds his hand out for me to climb on first, and I could do a happy dance. I grab the handles and smile over my shoulder at him when he lowers himself onto the seat behind me.

“You gonna crash us and make me regret this?”

I pretend to contemplate this. “You’re the one who came to get me.”