Page 11 of The Wrong Ride Home (Wildflower Canyon #1)

My chair scraped back hard against the floor, but before I could speak, Fiona chirped, "Oh, Senator, I meant to ask you about the land-use bill coming up for a vote next session." She smiled, effortless and poised. "The one about re-zoning protections for private ranches?"

Jessup’s interest shifted instantly, his smug grin returning. "Ah, yes. Big implications for developments like yours, Duke."

Nokoni shoved his chair back and rose. He turned to me—not them, me.

“Nash would be disappointed how much you’ve become like Gloria,” he remarked, his eyes blazing. Then he grabbed his hat off the table and walked out without another word.

Silence settled for half a second before Kaz huffed a laugh. "He always gets so damn emotional. His kind—always taking things so personally. "

A few of them chuckled.

I didn’t.

Because not for the first time this night, I was feeling a little sick.

It only got worse after that. But I knew I couldn’t lose my temper, no matter how much money I poured into Jessup and Thornton’s reelection campaigns—these were the people, along with Kaz Chase, who were vital for my business.

They helped sway the votes in Congress and the Senate, so I could keep doing what I was doing, what Nokoni called raping the land .

Well, fuck him. This was progress. This was how the world came to be.

But I knew I was rationalizing.

It was easy to make deals when you weren’t standing on the land that was going to be razed. Easy to see numbers on a contract instead of grass flattened under bulldozers, fences torn down to make room for resort entrances, and pastures paved over in the name of progress.

It was harder to accept that your father, his father, and two generations before him had fought to save this land, to keep it wild.

Harder when you realized that you were the one about to sell it out.

When the senator cracked another joke about how Native Americans had lost their land because of their emotions, I left the table and went to the restroom.

I was confident Fiona would handle it just fine. Maybe I’d send her to these dinners and stay out of it. They’ll think they can manipulate her and underestimate her. That could be to my advantage. Also, I wouldn’t be arrested for physically assaulting the motherfuckers.

I was walking back from the restroom when I saw her ! She was in worn jeans, scuffed boots, and a whiskey-warm smile with that self-satisfied asshole, Maverick Kincaid.

All the women at the restaurant were dressed up . The men, well, some were in suits like me, others like Maverick in jeans and shirts. Most men had a Stetson, most men, and my Elena. She should look out of place, be uncomfortable, but she didn’t because she didn’t give a damn.

The girl I knew cared about what people thought. She was careful. Even demur. This woman was laughing at something the bartender was saying while Maverick (did I mention he was a smug asshole?) watched her with besotted eyes.

I should’ve kept walking to my table, my private room, my personal hell, instead, I took a detour because, who the fuck was I kidding, I couldn’t resist Elena. Was it the same for my father when it came to Maria? My desire turned to ash in my mouth, and acid pumped into my stomach.

Like father like son.

If my mother ever found out I’d dipped my pen into that particular ink, she’d lose it—and I’d lose her. She was so fucking fragile, and even though she irritated the hell out of me, she was my only living parent, and I would take care of her no matter what.

I should’ve still kept walking, especially now that desire was replaced with disgust and anger. She was his , was she? How dare she?

I saw a young blonde woman walk past them, holding a cowboy’s arm. She said something, and Elena laughed while Maverick growled. I got closer and heard him say, “You’re responsible for her, bud.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Kincaid,” the eager young cowboy said, his arm around the blonde.

“Now, fuck off, both of you,” Maverick muttered.

Elena eased closer and whispered something in his ear. Her body was relaxed in a way that made the sourness in my gut turn to fucking flames.

“You’ve moved up in the world, Elena, having dinner at Blackwood Prime?” I slid into the barstool next to her.

The bartender paused. “Sir, may I help you?” Her tone said don’t fuck with my customers.

Well, she could go fuck herself. “I’m with Senator Jessup’s party. I’ll have a Macallan 12, neat.”

The bartender, whose name tag said Bailey, looked at Maverick, who nodded.

What the fuck?

Maybe it showed on my face because Elena turned to face me, her back to her companion. “And you’ve not come a long way at all, have you, Duke Wilder? Still hanging out with puss boils like Otis Jessup. Did Celeste show you her new tits? She got them special in LA for Christmas.”

She hadn’t said two words to me, and now she was sassing me. I was pissed, yeah. But my dick, it didn’t get that message. It got the other one, the one where I wanted her using her mouth on it.

Where had the sweet girl I knew gone? Who was this woman? I didn’t know her, but I was intrigued as hell.

The blonde rushed back and pulled out a purse from under the bar. “Forgot.”

She kissed Maverick on the cheek and gave me an enquiring look. “My, my, they do grow them nicely in Texas, don’t they?”

“You mean like—” I started, but Elena cut in deadpanning, “Cattle? Oak trees? The egos of certain cowboys?”

I grinned. “My, my, Elena, you’re certainly showing your claws.”

“They’re new.” She waved her unmanicured nails at me.

Maverick chuckled, “Joy, you were on your way, darlin’.”

“I was,” she said airily. She smiled at me, and the wattage was impressive. “I picked up a cowboy.”

The way she said it was adorable. “Good for you.”

She laughed.

Maverick groaned, rubbing his face. "You would." He then glared at Elena. “This is your fault.”

"Don’t look at me." Elena took a slow sip of her drink, completely ignoring me. "She’s a grown woman. You don’t control her."

“Don’t control you either,” he muttered amusedly.

“You know me,” she quipped.

“I do know you, Wildflower,” Maverick said softly.

The teasing way he said it sent a rush of irritation through me. They had that easy, familiar banter—like they actually enjoyed each other. Like Maverick fucking Kincaid knew her in ways I used to…and never would again.

Maverick grinned at her, then turned that smirk on me. I wanted to hit him…hard.

“You should head on back to your table, Duke,” Maverick drawled. “So much land to squander, so little time. I’m sure Otis and that asshole Bryce are salivating, ready to suck your dick so you’ll sell off your daddy’s land, piece by piece.”

I saw Elena’s hand around her glass stiffen.

“A hundred thousand acres of it,” I supplied lazily. “Yeah, they are on their knees.”

“Doesn’t it bother you one bit how hard your father, his father…generations of your family worked to maintain this land?” Maverick asked me, but he was looking at Elena.

Her face was drawn, and all the flirty, casualness about her was gone.

It bothered her that I was selling Wilder Ranch.

Good. I wanted it to bother her. I wanted something to hurt her as she’d hurt me by not telling me who her mother was to my father.

If she had, I wouldn’t have touched her with a barge pole, and none of this would be happening.

My heart wouldn’t feel hollow and empty like it didn’t belong to me.

I’d fall in love with Fiona, the perfect fucking woman for me.

I’d live without thinking about the woman with chocolate-brown eyes and full lips .

“My ranch, my business,” I snapped, but like Maverick, I was also watching the woman who sat between us.

"It’s all of our business," Maverick shot back. "What you do to Wilder Ranch affects every ranch in this valley. Selling your legacy just to make a quick buck is low."

I set my drink down hard on the bar. "Jealous, Kincaid? I could talk to Otis and?—”

“You’re a dumb son of a bitch, aren’t you?” Maverick interrupted me. “You lost the girl. You’ll lose the land. And you’ll lose your soul.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Which girl are you talking about? This one.” I inclined my chin toward Elena. “Her pussy wasn’t so?—”

“Enough.” Elena pushed her barstool back and stood up. “Measure your dicks if you want, but keep my cooch out of it. Maverick, next time, let’s pick a place where I don’t run into my boss. Duke, see you at first light for the morning roundup."

And then she walked out.

I stared after her, jaw tight.

Maverick chuckled, shaking his head. "The girl you lost has become one hell of a fuckin’ amazing woman,” he informed me.

Mine , I wanted to tell him as I broke his nose.

But she wasn’t mine. She’d been for a short time a long time ago, and now I was just panting around like a puppy, wanting her attention. How pathetic was I?

My woman was expertly maneuvering politicians and land developers to benefit me, and I was looking for scraps of attention from a freaking horse trainer who didn’t know how to dress for a place like the Blackwood Prime.

But I could lie to everyone, just not to myself, not when I could still smell her—a combination of lavender and horses.

I still loved her. Even when I hated her. Even when it would’ve been easier if I didn’t. And that was the real fucking problem.