Page 2 of Wrangled and Tangled (Raven Peak Ranch #1)

T he crowd’s loud tonight, and hot damn, if my ego gets any bigger, my hats won’t fit. I live for this shit. The bright lights of an arena, the rush of the rides, and the underlying smell of manure and hay bring me to the highest of highs.

Or another body beneath mine, one that I’ve pursued and captured.

I’ve been coined the ‘Playboy of Rodeo’, and while it’s not entirely wrong, I don’t understand why my publicist flipped her shit over the latest article that’s circulating the internet right now.

So I slept with a married man. I didn’t know he was married, and I’m not in the habit of interrogating my dates before jumping into bed with them.

“You ready, Muffin?” My flankman, Eddie, hollers as I finish waving in the arena.

“Hell yeah,” pumping my arms in the air, Eddie claps my hand and brings me in for a one-armed hug.

“You’ve got this,” he says, releasing me so I can climb the chute where Fiona, the buckin’ bronco, is riled and ready.

“Let’s give ‘em a show, old gal!” I whisper in her ear. She responds by buckin’ and hittin’ the side of the metal chute.

Nodding to Eddie, taking in a deep breath, the chute flies open, and away we go. Fiona’s kicking, hopping, and jumping around the arena, doing her damndest to buck me off her back. My grip’s strong in the riggin’ though, and I’m holding on for the win.

The noise of the crowd swells in my chest, and when the buzzer sounds, I’m on my feet. Hitting the sand with excitement and relief. That was probably my best ride this season. If I can keep this up, I’ll be on my way to another championship.

The crowd’s on their feet, screaming my name and chanting. This is what dreams are made of. All the work in and out of the stables, it’s all worth it. Children hang on to the metal bars, high up on the top, with their parents below, making sure they’re safe.

Running over to a row of kids, they squeal and hold things out for me to sign.

Quickly swiping the sharpie one of their parents hands me, I sign hats, vests, whatever they hand me before waving and heading out of the ring so the next contestant can ride.

Buckle bunnies mill around the back, waiting on a moment they can capture a rider’s attention.

One of them’s wearing a low-cut top with a signature scrawled out on one perky tit, and with her come get me eyes, I can imagine she wants my signature for the other.

Never one to disappoint, I mosey on over, and as she offers the pen, she gives me a smile that spells trouble. “Lookin’ good tonight, Heath.”

Her little laugh attached to my name does nothing for me, so I smile and sign her exposed flesh. “Thank you, darlin’,” and with a wink, I’m gone, disappearing to the back of the arena where Eddie’s waiting in the wings.

“That was amazin’!” Eddie screams, along with the rest of our crew. The rest of the night is full of gals hanging around with sweet as syrup smiles, fuck me eyes, and lots of cold beer.

I wish I could say the women and men falling into my lap part made me just as happy as the arena, but it’s gotten stale.

Sure, I still like to fuck, but the flavors lost it’s sugar.

I want somethin’ that makes my feet wanna run toward them every time they hit the ground, not someone who wants to fuck me for a story.

Someone soft to land on after a particularly hard day. I just haven’t found that person yet.

Boy, have I tried.

My publicist, Staci, told me if she has to hitch me to someone for my own good , she will. I’ve got no doubts about it, she’s a scary woman, most people run when they see her coming.

I think that’s why I hired her, she’s got zero time for bullshit, and she doesn’t give a damn who you are. If you’re being a fucking idiot, she’s gonna tell you. She’s told me personally time and time again in the past, but I tend to block that out.

“You were on fire tonight, Heath!” One of the buckle bunnies that hangs around after the rodeo’s over says with a flirty little wave and smile.

Flashing her my pearly whites, I wink and salute her with two fingers, tipping my hat. The girls around her all flutter with laughter as Eddie wraps his arm around my neck. It isn’t lost on me the looks men are throwing my way, either. I love a good chase, whether my prey is male or female.

“Hot fuckin’ damn, Macabe! You keep ridin’ like that, and you’ll have sponsors eatin’ right outta your hand.” He releases me as we move, walking backward so he can still talk to me. “I can’t believe it man, my best friend, the champion.”

Laughing, I scratch my beard. “I hope they have deep pockets.”

“Ahh, that’s what I’m talking ‘bout! Talk it up, manifest that shit or whatever,” he stops, eyes glancing over my shoulder. His smile turns to a sneer, and I pause mid-stride so I can turn to look at whatever it is he’s seeing.

Levi Walker, the son-of-a-bitch who drugged one of the women at the bar we went to after winning the rodeo last month in Texas. He weaseled his way outta any charges, and the fucking team won’t fire him. Even after I threatened to leave, I can’t get out of my contracts–so here we are.

Eddie and I have been keeping an eye on him since then.

Women already get the shitty end of a lot, why add predators to the list?

A gorgeous woman with long honey-blonde hair jumps into Levi’s arms, throwing her legs up with a squeal.

Her hat falls from her head and hits the dirt when arguably the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen steps from behind Levi to pick it up.

He’s smiling at the woman as Levi lets her down on her own booted feet and sets her hat back on top of her head.

With the breath knocked from my lungs, I can’t help but stare. He’s… so fucking handsome it almost hurts to look at him. His light beard stands out against the kind of tanned skin you get from working hard days in the sun. With tan lines that overlap and rosy cheeks.

His arms are the size of pythons, and the belt buckle under his round belly is too shiny, as if he had to dust it off.

His jeans are stained, the kind that never washes out, and his boots look worn.

This man works hard. If I had to guess, I’d say blue-collar work.

It’s purely out of curiosity that my feet start toward the newcomers, especially since I’ve never seen them on the road before.

“Howdy, y’all,” I hear myself over the blood rushing through my ears. I can ride a bucking bronco without a blink, but approaching this man… Nerves ignite my whole body and I’m anxious.

“Hi… Oh,” the woman says with a sour face, and I tilt my head, wondering what that’s about when Levi wraps his arm around her shoulder and gives me a shit-eating grin.

“I’m Heath,” extending my hand to her, she looks at it for a second before placing hers in mine. “It’s nice to meet you…”

“Lucy,” she replies sharply.

“It’s my pleasure,” nodding my hat and letting her hand go, I turn toward the man I really came over here to see and his gaze stops my heart.

I swear I’ve never seen a more gorgeous man.

His green eyes are bright against his golden-kissed skin, and freckles dot the bridge of his nose, and cheeks, disappearing under his beard.

Offering my hand, he places his calloused one in mine, and a shiver runs down my spine.

“Spencer,” he smiles, and good Lord above, it makes me want to lean in closer. I won’t though, I’ve got to feel him out before I turn on the charm.

“We’re headin’ to The Rowdy Raven later, y’all gonna be there?” I ask, catching Levi’s whisper in Lucy’s ear. She giggles, while Spencer and I look at each other.

His eyebrows rise, “You know The Raven?”

“Of course, this is actually my favorite stop on the tour. This place feels like a little slice of home,” I chuckle, realizing I’m still holding his hand. Letting go of his hand feels wrong, cold, detached, and I immediately want to feel his warmth again.