Page 3 of Wrangled Up (Menage a Trouble #2)

Jesus. Her world spun, a slow revolution like a carnival ride. She clamped the pen harder, allowing the stab of pain on her palm to ground her.

“You don’t know.” Christian slapped a hand off the table and sat back, shaking his head. “Damn him.”

“Tell me,” she heard herself say from far away.

Christian inched a hand across the table and stroked Claire’s tense white knuckles.

She jerked away. His thick eyebrow rippled then settled over his concerned gaze.

Taking a deep breath, he said, “He and Heather were engaged for a year. They were literally days away from the wedding. Hall decorated, tux rented, dress hanging in her closet.”

Claire’s stomach pitched and heaved, and it wasn’t helping that the house special tonight was meatloaf. Heather. Now that the name was emblazoned on her brain, she’d never stop wondering what the girl looked like, if she was prettier or more fun than Claire .

“What happened between them?”

“She died in a car accident. It took her swift. On a dark road at night, coming home from a concert with friends, a sort of last hoorah as a bachelorette.”

A ragged breath left Claire. “That actually explains a lot about Tucker.”

Christian bobbed his head and took a sip of water. “Unfortunately, I don’t know if he’ll ever pull out of his grief. It’s like he caved in when she died. I’ve tried for two years to yank him back into the living, but…”

“But no one can compete with a memory,” Claire murmured, staring blankly at Christian’s clenched fingers. She ticked her gaze up to his and saw raw pain there as well.

“None of us can.” His voice was calloused, rough across her skin.

And though he didn’t come out and say it, she knew that the man before her was in love with Tucker too.

* * * * *

Thick mud clung to the soles of Tucker’s boots as he crossed the pasture to meet the riders on horseback—his kin, though they looked like a posse coming to string him up. Well, that’s probably what they’re here for, in a way.

High grasses churned around his calves as he strode toward the two riders. From a closer look at the expensive drover coat of the man on the right, he recognized his Uncle Leon. That meant the other rider was his cousin Dale.

“Fuck,” Tucker growled and dug his boots in, taking out his frustrations on the very land they were fighting over.

In the distance, the steady beep of a back-up alarm on heavy equipment broke the peaceful quiet of the Wyoming ranch.

Tucker tugged on the brim of his cowboy hat. “Boys,” he said as his relatives drew up a few feet from him.

“Tucker,” Uncle Leon acknowledged. The man was decked out in expensive new jeans and boots, and his hat didn’t have a speck of dust on it. He definitely liked his money, which was probably why he wanted Tucker to sign off on more of his land so he could gain more of the green stuff.

Dale’s horse danced a bit, and his cousin gained immediate control, wrapping brand new leather reins around his gloved fist. The horse’s tack shone—not from a good polishing and care, but because it was new too.

“I like the new saddle, Dale. I see you even had your initials tooled into it.” Tucker peered up at his cousin, wishing he could rip him off the horse and beat him into a pulp. He and Dale were oil and water. Or in this case, coal and water.

Uncle Leon didn’t beat around the bush. He stared over Tucker’s head in the direction of Tucker’s house and barns. His lean, freshly shaven cheeks pulled in as he pursed his lips.

“Coal company needs those papers signed, Tucker. You get around to doing that?”

“No,” Tucker drawled, hooking a thumb in his jeans pocket. Adrenaline surged in his system, but he wasn’t about to let on that he was anything but cool. His bastard family would take advantage of any weakness.

Uncle Leon’s gaze snapped to his. “When you going to do that, son?”

“I ain’t your son, and don’t know as I am. If the coal company digs up all of your ground and ruins your water, that’s fine by me. Keep on supplying those people on the Gulf Coast. But they aren’t touching my land. ”

“Not even for three million more dollars in your bank account?” Dale sneered.

To Dale, money was air. But Tucker thought more of the land, the ranch.

He needed to preserve it if he wanted to raise healthy horses.

And where Bradley Coal wanted to dig an escape access for a new mine, they’d surely contaminate Tucker’s water source.

What good would his ranch be without water for his horses?

“Look here, Tucker, I didn’t want to play this card—” Uncle Leon began.

“Then don’t,” Tucker cut him off. He narrowed his eyes, coming just short of glaring at his family members.

While he wished like hell he could just kick them off the property that had been left to him by his parents, a soft spot for the thought of family kept him from doing so.

Hell, when he and Dale were little, they’d actually played in the sandbox together.

Too bad the kid was such a jackass adult, greedy and money-hungry.

Tucker sighed. “I’m not out to start a family feud. You’ve taken your portion of Grandaddy’s ranch and turned a good profit from the natural resources. I intend to do the same—with my stock. ”

Leon’s lip curled and the fine white line of his mustache rippled. “You received a sizable sum from the access portal on the north two hundred acres, if I recall. Benefitted quite handsomely.”

The last thing Tucker wanted to discuss with his family was his bank account. Yeah, he had enough to live on for the rest of his life. Hell, his children’s lives. If he ever had any.

Heather’s glowing face rose up in his mind’s eye, and he fought the sudden emotion that flared to life. She should be here now, standing beside him, maybe with a little one on her hip.

Swallowing hard, he shook his head. “Bradley Coal can dig their escape access on that two-hundred then. Or dig it on your land.”

Leon leaned over on his horse’s neck, putting his face close to Tucker’s. Gritting his teeth, Tucker held his ground.

“They are digging on my ground, in case you don’t remember that I’m doing what’s best for this family.”

As Tucker had inherited a portion of all mineral rights on his grandfather’s property, he got royalties off everything that his family did to their portion of the ground.

“That portal needs to go in, Tucker, or Bradley Coal can’t dig the new mine. Which means they’re pretty much done with us.”

Tucker bobbed his head. “Seems as if we all have enough money.”

Dale made a hissing noise.

“What’s that, Dale? You in need of more custom-made saddles? More sports cars?”

The kid smiled but before he could speak, Leon turned his horse and gave a “yaw” to order it across the pasture, away from Tucker.

Dale and Tucker stared at each other for a long moment. Still holding his gaze, Dale wheeled his mare around and sent her after Uncle Leon.

“Well, that went well.” Tucker kicked his heel into the turf, creating a divot.

Striding for the far end of the field, he drew deep breaths to regain his precious control.

The whole time he’d spoken with his relatives, his stomach had quivered with nerves.

In the past two days, he’d been agitated, annoyed.

Ever since Claire.

No. Ever since Heather .

He stared at the big pine cluster where several of his horses gathered in the shade, but all he could imagine was the look on Claire’s face as she beat in his truck.

He’d hurt her, and she had reason to do that damage.

But she’d caused some destruction of her own—she was the first person to nearly slip into his damaged heart since Heather.

Tearing off his hat, he shoved his long hair off his face.

The first time he’d set eyes on Claire at the summer festival, he’d been drawn to her.

And not only for the way his body responded—his cock standing at attention in seconds.

But for the sweetness of her tone when she offered him lemonade from a big glass punchbowl.

And from her eyes—two deep pools that made a man fall in headfirst.

Heart and all.

He never should have asked her out, knowing that flurry of excitement in his chest was too close to what he felt for Heather. He should have run like hell. Instead, he’d dated Claire for two months, and what an adventure those months had been.

She’d made him laugh with her carefree view of the world. Set him on fire between the sheets with her hot little mouth and tight, wet pussy.

But as soon as he realized the blaze was getting too close to his heart, he went out and did the only thing he could think of—he grabbed Allie at The Hellion and took her home to share with Christian.

Except Tucker hadn’t laid a hand on the blonde beauty. Instead, he’d gotten off on watching his friend fuck her seven ways to church day. And if he was honest, he loved looking at Christian’s body more than the woman’s.

Tucker veered away from the horses and headed down the dirt path leading to the house. His dented pickup stood in the drive, reminding him too much of Claire.

He’d never had a woman react so strongly to him.

When she gave herself, it was wholeheartedly.

In bed, in the barn or in the field. And how often had she given him that searing look that melted his very bones as well as the wall he’d erected after Heather died?

A you’re-my-entire-universe-I-want-us-forever look.

He threw open his truck door and slid in. Twisting the key in the ignition, he barely waited for the engine to start before slamming the Ram into reverse. He backed out in a cloud of dust and floored it for the main road, narrowly missing the massive pot holes at the end of the drive.

He bumped up and down but locked his boot on the gas pedal. He had to get off the ranch and clear his head. Claire, Heather…even Christian. They were all part of this property. Tucker could barely look in any direction without memories haunting him.

Christian had stormed off last night and Tucker hadn’t heard from him since. Probably just as well. Their jack-off sessions were growing more frequent. What had started as some innocent fun on a Saturday night with too much beer had morphed into a craving.

Tucker loved to see Christian’s thick cock in his hand, his strong fingers pumping to a rhythm Tucker practically needed now to climax solo. His shaft swelled just thinking about it.

But last night when Christian had said Claire’s name, it came with a peal of alarm bells in Tucker’s mind. The fevered light in Christian’s eyes indicated his interest in the curly-haired cowgirl .

Which would not do at all.

Pressure mounted in Tucker’s chest. If his so-called friend came within a country mile of Claire…

What? You purposely threw her away.

But only because his grief was so great.

There was no getting over his fiancée. Heather had been his high school sweetheart.

His first. Her family had loved him almost as much as Heather had and when Tucker’s parents had passed away within months of each other to separate causes, Heather’s family had become his.

Now he was stuck with assholes like Leon and Dale.

He did have a few cousins he still spoke to civilly, and one was Darcy. The sixteen-year-old was all cowgirl. Roping champion, voted most likely to win rodeo queen in her sophomore year. Right now, she had her heart set on cleaning up at the next fair with a prized alpaca.

Except her father, Leon, had no idea how to raise livestock, though he’d grown up around it. He’d gone off to college and gotten a business degree but knew little about the ranching his father tried to instill in him .

Darcy had her eyes on Tucker’s alpaca, Boomerang, which had a cozy little place on Tucker’s ranch.

Every day he cared for it and talked to it.

The strange-looking creature with the insanely long eyelashes had won Tucker over, and now he actually looked forward to getting up at dawn and seeing the stupid animal he’d won in a bet down at The Hellion.

Cresting a hill, Tucker directed his gaze to the sky. Heat had bleached it out today, creating a pale blue canvas for a few thin clouds. As always when he looked at the sky, he thought of Heather in heaven, riding gilded chariots and wearing flowing robes, her loose brown waves soft on her spine.

He’d fucked up so much in his life. Should have driven her to that concert. Should have asked Christian to stay last night.

Should talk to Claire.

Where would she be right now? He glanced at the clock on his dash. She’d be asleep after her late shift at the diner. He couldn’t contemplate swinging by her house and trying to wake her up. Her Aunt Letty would greet him with a shotgun, she was so protective of Claire .

That meant he had to go find Christian first. After a glance in the rearview mirror, Tucker cranked the wheel sharply to the left and did a one-eighty in the middle of the road, heading back toward town, where he knew his best friend would be out in the baking sun, working on the road crew.