Page 57 of Tempting Wyatt (Triple Creek Ranch #1)

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

wyatt

“CAN I SHOW YOU SOMETHING?”

I glance down to where Ivy’s warm, naked body is snuggled in my arms. “Pretty sure you just showed me everything, dirty girl.”

Even though she agreed to stay another night so she could have one last Sunday dinner with my family, we’re still running out of time.

We’ve been making love nonstop, as if it will prevent the inevitable.

I’ve decided that, tonight, I’m going to lay myself bare and beg her to stay.

To consider remaining in the cabin rent-free long-term and seeing where this goes.

Or if she’s ready, she can move in with me tomorrow.

As far as I’m concerned, I know where this is going.

And I’m never going to be able to let her go.

She rolls her eyes as she sits up. “It’s something for you. Well, for the ranch really. But maybe it’s dumb. I don’t know. It was just a thought.”

“Let’s see it, baby.”

She leans across me to grab her laptop from the nightstand. I watch as she boots it up and opens a web page on her screen. At first glance, I see the title in big, bold letters. Smart Systems Feeding, Tracking, and Irrigation Automation.

“So, I was thinking,” Ivy says softly, “and researching. Because I know you don’t like to go to the bull pasture and you’re working twelve-to fifteen-hour days, checking the feeding and watering systems for the animals and the soil.

” She pauses and clicks a few tabs on the screen.

“Some of this would solve your issue by not having to physically have hands in every pasture. They even have electronic cattle tracking. There’s also a camera setup available so you can make sure your feeding systems are working properly. You can access them from your phone.”

I’m familiar with what she’s suggesting, and if we had the money, we’d already own it. But the fact that she cares enough to research this—just to try and make my life easier—hits me square in the chest.

“My dad was as old-fashioned as they come. So was my granddad. They didn’t believe any of this was true ranching.

” Ivy lowers her gaze, so I rush on, “But I think it’s working smarter, not harder, in a time when it’s hard enough to find help.

” I kiss her gently on the forehead. “At the moment, it’s a little out of my price range.

But it’s definitely on the wish list for the future. ”

Just like you are.

“Maybe try it in one section of the ranch first, like the bull pasture,” she offers. “See how you like it before investing fully. On the site, it says they offer trial periods with reduced payments.”

I stare at her. I’ve never had a woman give two shits about this ranch. Mostly, they want some dick, an occasional date, to be seen on my arm in town.

This one not only gets her hands dirty, but she cares with her whole heart.

“I’ll look into it, Hollywood. In the meantime, we need to be at the house for dinner, like, now. Get your cute ass in the shower, and I’ll be back in a bit to pick you up.”

I give said ass a solid smack when she climbs over me. The look in her eyes as she glances over her shoulder almost has me pulling her back into the bed. But I need to make some calls, check a few things on the property, and get cleaned up, too, so I let her go.

It’s only once I’m dressed and about to head out that I glance back at the computer screen.

The system she researched is the highest-rated one, and I know a few locals who’ve used it.

I scroll down, looking for the fine print on the trial period, but somehow, a flick of my finger closes the web browser, and another document is on the screen.

The font is odd, and it’s a ton of text.

It takes my eyes a second to adjust. But when they do, I realize it’s Ivy’s latest screenplay.

My heart swells with pride. She said she had been blocked before coming here, but that she’d been inspired lately. I tried not to let that go to my head—either of them—but, hell, it did. I couldn’t help it. If orgasms got my girl writing, then I was happy to help.

I’m grinning, wondering if she’s writing a cowboy romance and planning to give her hell because the lead sounds a lot more like Isaac than me, until I come across a scene I recognize.

Rhyland, her male lead, says word for word everything I did when I told her about where the three creeks meet, about my father, about my family.

Perusing the document makes me lightheaded. There’s a scene with Sutton crying at the dinner table while Willow and Isaac argue. The names are changed, but barely.

My throat constricts as her words choke the shit out of me.

This isn’t like the novels Willow reads, it’s a screenplay for television. There are notes about possible actors that could play us and stage directions.

It’s fucking Nina all over again.

No. No fucking way.

My heart and head go to war.

Ivy wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t exploit me and my family like this. Not after everything. Would she?

God, how much do I even know about her? For all I know, Nina could’ve sent her here.

Stop. You know her mom never gave a shit, you know she was almost killed in a fire as a kid, and you know she is who she says she is.

Except I don’t know any of that for certain because I can’t think straight.

Inhaling deeply, I try to click the document closed so she won’t know I’ve seen it. I’ll ask her about it later. Surely there’s an explanation.

But right now, I want to break shit, and I need to go calm down.

A message notification pops up. I didn’t even know you could get text messages on a computer. Maybe I am the backward-ass hillbilly her ex accused me of being.

Someone named Devyn Whitaker-Agent Extraordinaire sent:

Studio LOVES the Paradise Valley submission. Pretty sure they’re going to make a HUGE offer by the end of day.

She already submitted this to someone. Without talking to me, without asking if it was okay to use my family, our lives, and our history like this.

My chest aches, and my airway damn near closes completely.

I’ve been calling her Hollywood as a joke—because she’s from LA. She was probably laughing her ass off at me the entire time.

I scroll down the screen and see bits and pieces of conversations we’ve had rewritten as scenes between characters in her script. Her moments with my family, the death of my father, even the conversation at the summit is in there.

The betrayal strikes me repeatedly in the chest. It is Nina all over again, but worse. Because Nina was nothing to me. I barely spoke more than a few sentences to her.

I’ve bared my soul to Ivy. Because I’ve fallen in stupid fucking love with her.

I want to smash the shit out of everything in this room—this laptop for one. But I won’t because I’m not that guy.

Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. But here I am, shocked as shit and hurt to hell and back. And feeling like a fucking moron.

I thought she’d genuinely been interested in the ranch, in me. But maybe there isn’t a genuine bone in her fucking body.

My mind runs wild with possibilities.

Maybe the same network that employs Nina and her vultures sent Ivy. I need to call the attorneys that I already owe a bunch of money to and see if they can stop this.

Maybe the story about her cheating ex is bullshit. Maybe it’s all lies to cover what she’s really doing here.

I don’t know. Apparently, I don’t know much of anything. And my lack of knowledge has left my family and my ranch unprotected.

All I do know is, much like when she first arrived, I want Ivy Anderson off my property.