Page 3 of Wrangled and Tangled (Raven Peak Ranch #1)

I t’s the stunning man in chaps from the arena, and he’s looking at me like I could be his evening meal. Or my brain’s playing tricks on my ass, and I’m reading too much into a look.

“We’re headin’ to The Rowdy Raven later, y’all gonna be there?” He asks, with his hand still in mine.

Surprise washes over me as Levi says something to Lucy.

The Rowdy Raven is my uncle’s bar, a townie favorite, named after the family ranch.

Usually, rodeo folk head to the Goldspur Saloon, which is exactly how out-of-towners view our little country town.

Cheesy memorabilia is tacked to the walls, and all of the tables and chairs are made from wine barrels and wheel spokes.

“You know The Raven?” I ask, skeptical of his knowledge.

“Of course, this is actually my favorite stop on the tour. This place feels like a little slice of home,” his eyes drop to our hands, where he’s still holding on to mine, and he drops his with a small smile.

His cheeks tinge pink, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too hard.

He’s so cute.

“You might see us there,” I say noncommittally since Levi and Lucy seem to have opinions.

Then it clicks, Heath , the guy Lucy said lied about Levi’s habits.

The one he may or may not have. It’s a shame, really.

I could see us having a good time later.

He’s handsome, and I could use a bit of fun.

Disappointment and curiosity swirl in my stomach.

Biting my lip, I hold back on immediately jumping on his offer.

“I’ll look for ya,” Heath promises, and with a wink, he turns around, walking back to the guy that’s been hanging around while he introduced himself.

When he turns back around to catch me staring, he waves two fingers and smiles before disappearing down the tunnel that leads outside.

“You didn’t mention he was hot,” I scold, running my tongue over my teeth.

“I said he was a slut,” Lucy shrugs, “same thing.”

Laughing, I have to hold my stomach. “Touché.”

“The Raven sounds like fun,” Levi says, looking down at Lucy with a smile.

I don’t know Heath well enough to know if what he told their boss is true, but something about Lucy’s adamant push that it’s not true sets my hackles to rising.

Especially since she wouldn’t tell me what exactly this ‘habit’ is, and the way Levi’s searching the space makes me wonder who exactly he’s looking for.

“I need to ask Uncle Scott somethin’ anyway,” she lifts her shoulder and looks back up at Levi.

“It’s settled,” Levi says, clapping his hands together and following the same path Heath walked a few minutes ago.

The two of them walk hand-in-hand, arms swinging in the middle of the path as if no one else will need to walk down the tunnel. Rolling my eyes, I follow, pulling the truck keys from my pocket and fisting them in my hand.

“Meet you there!” Lucy hollers as we emerge outside of the arena. The sun’s long gone, and the stars are bright.

“Yeah, maybe,” I grumble back. The full moon shines down on the parking lot, still brimming with cars. Gravel crunches under my boots, and the crickets are out and singing.

My truck is off to the side, in the grass overflow parking, since we got here late.

The old red beauty sits on balding tires that I need to replace, her body’s got a few rusty places, but I rebuilt the engine myself, and I’m damn proud of it.

It’s taken me years to find the original parts to replace some things, and I plan on restoring her to when my Granddad first bought her.

Slipping the key into the ignition and firing her up, I let her warm up before taking off.

She’s a temperamental ol’ bitty, and if you push too hard, she likes to lock up on you.

The bench seat needs to be repaired, along with the dash, but the garage has been busy this year, and I haven’t had the time to work on her like I’d planned.

Driving to The Raven is easy enough. It’s only a few miles down the road from the arena, tucked away down a long dirt road. There really isn’t an official parking lot, just a flat stretch of dirt serving as a place to loiter and perhaps park your vehicle if you’re going inside for a drink.

Though, I’m not sure I’m gonna go. Passing the turn for The Raven, I head home, especially since Briar’s home pouting about not being able to go to the rodeo with us.

Mawmaw’s probably called her at least four times since we’ve been out, and I can admit I texted every hour.

Of course, it was met with, “ Dad, I’m not a baby ,” every time. Still she’s my whole world and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her.

Parking and pulling the break, I head inside where Briar’s got music playing loud enough I can hear it from the bottom of the porch steps. Unlocking the door, I brace myself for what awaits inside.

Our house isn’t large, two bedrooms, two baths.

The living room and kitchen are open to one another, and our bedroom doors sit closed across from the front door.

Thelma, Briar’s raccoon, is snoozing on the arm of the couch, arms splayed out, hanging over the edge of the couch.

That damn raccoon will be the death of me one day.

Briar’s got the television on, music pouring from it, dancing around the room like she’s auditioning for a recital. Her long caramel hair is tangled in her face and arms, and she startles when she sees me standing in the doorway. “Dad? What are you doing here?”

“This is my house. You know, where I sleep, eat, and wash my ass?” Poking fun at her surprise, I smile.

“You came home early, didn’t you?” Untangling the hair from her face, she plants her hands on her hips and purses her lips. “You’re so old you don’t even remember how to have fun!”

“Not true,” I argue, knowing better than to fall into this same ridiculous argument.

“Okay, so you’re gonna turn around and go see Uncle Scott and Aunt LuAnna. Have a beer, maybe dance to a few songs. Act a little more like when you were happy?”

“I’m happy–”

“Bullshit.” She crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes.

“Language,” I warn, though I’ve been slack since she’s getting older. “I’m still your dad.”

She waves her hand in front of her face and walks over to where I’m still standing at the door. “I love you, Dad, but you can’t come home until you have one beer and dance to at least two songs. Bye!”

Shoving me out of the door, she throws my keys at me and locks the door behind her.

“Briar Jo! Open this door,” I demand, she can’t kick me out of my own damn house.

“I’m gonna go to Mawmaw’s! She made ice cream and cobbler,” she hollers through the door, “Just in case you find anyone worth bringin’ home! Love you!”

If I find anyone worth–wait, what the hell just happened? My cell phone’s on the table by the door, so I can’t call Mawmaw to find out if Briar’s telling me the truth.

“The fuck,” I whisper under my breath, turning and looking at the porch swing her mother and I used to sit in every night with Briar.

Listening to the crickets and the frogs sing their songs.

Sometimes, the pain of her passing hits me square in the chest, and I have to remember to breathe.

It’s been ten years since she had an aneurysm while out on a ride.

The doctor in town said she didn’t feel a thing.

Still, the hole she left in our family feels like a black, endless pit that’ll never be filled.

Thirty or so minutes later the telltale sound of a four wheeler coming up my drive signals Mawmaw’s arrival.

“You aren’t waitin’ around like a lost puppy, are ya?” She asks, and I chuckle at the bossy nature of her tone. “Go on, I’ve got my granddaughter, you go have a good night.”

Her wink and Briar’s snicker from behind me make me wonder if these two weren’t planning this all along. “You two together are trouble.”

Briar shrugs, lifts up on her tippy toes, and I bend so she can plant a kiss on my cheek, “Have fun, Dad, you deserve some, alright?”

I shouldn’t.

I should turn around and go to bed, and maybe dream about a hot, dark haired bronco rider who just so happened to blush from holding my hand. My feet stall on the porch steps, and I turn around, walking back into my house and shutting myself in my room.

Stripping down to my boxers, I snuggle down in my bed. Thelma scratches at the door, and I ignore her. She can sleep on Briar’s bed.

Scrolling through TV channels, I finally give up on watching anything and just click on something. Letting it play in the otherwise silent house.

I can’t get comfortable, thoughts of the dark-haired cowboy invade my mind, and I find myself wondering if he’s waiting for me or if he’s taking someone else home.