Page 2 of Wicked Cowboy

“I have faith.”

“Faith doesn’t pull you out of a ditch.” He stands, holding out his hand. “Keys.”

Something about the quiet authority in his tone makes me hand them over. He slides into my driver’s seat, forearms flexing as he shifts gears. The car groans, then sighs in defeat.

“Dead,” he says. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”

I glance at the mangled pumpkins. “Are you sure about that?”

He smirks. There’s sin in that smile—slow, lazy, confident. I could drown in it.

“Stay put,” he says. “I’ll get the truck.”

Five minutes later, my poor car is hitched to his pickup. He opens the passenger door. “You can ride up front.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You just let me hook up your car.”

“Touché.” I climb in.

The cab smells like cedar and soap. He drives slowly over the gravel, the wipers beating in time with the rain that’s starting to fall. The ranch stretches wide with rows of pumpkins, a red barn trimmed with bunting, and a white-haired woman waving from the porch of a big farmhouse.

“That’s my grandma,” Rhett says.

“She seems nice and grandmotherly.”

“She’s dangerous.”

I grin. “My kind of woman. I like people who know what they want and what’s good for everyone else. She gives off the vibe that she’s in charge.”

He gives me a sidelong glance, as if he’s not sure what to do with my mouth running this fast. “You always talk this much?”

“Only when I’m nervous.”

“Then you must be terrified.”

“Maybe I just like making grumpy men twitch.”

His hands tighten on the wheel. “I don’t twitch.”

“Mmhmm.”

We reach the workshop, a big metal barn filled with tools and the smell of oil. He unhitches the car and pops the hood. I wander in behind him, brushing rain off my sleeves.

“You work here alone?” I ask.

“Mostly. My little brother works on the ranch too, but we have different strengths.”

“And you handle the pumpkins.”

“I handle everything.”

“Of course you do.”

He shoots me a look that could melt steel. I smile back because someone has to bring balance to the universe.

Lightning cracks outside, close enough to make the walls shake. He glances at the sky, jaw set. “Storm’s rolling in. You’re not driving anywhere tonight.”