Chapter 2
Hot Damn
Duke
Wheeler’s lips twitch. “But I’m not a cowgirl.”
“You sure as hell act like one.”
“How so?”
“It’s the confidence.” My eyes flick down her body. “And the strong legs.”
“Because you need strong legs for riding?”
Yep, she’s picking up what I’m laying down.
Goddamn, I like her. She smells like summer, some kinda perfume that’s tropical, juicy even, with hints of coconut and sunscreen. Absolutely delicious.
Yeah, I wanna lay her down. That’s a given. But I also wanna get to know this girl. People with new ideas, who do something other than work cattle for a living, are few and far between in these parts.
I’ve dreamed of forging my own path and seeing the world for as long as I can remember.
I’m terrified of that world passing me by as I sit in Hartsville and wait for my life to begin.
But meeting a person from somewhere else—someone who’s experienced things I haven’t, who knows things I don’t—is a nice reminder that the world hasn’t passed me by.
I still have time to see and do new things.
“For riding, yes.” I throw another dart. Not a bullseye repeat, but close.
Really, how could I not like Wheeler Rankin? She’s smart as shit. Confident. Well-spoken and witty. She has this way of incorporating interesting thoughts into flirty conversation that makes my dick perk up.
My dick also likes the way she looks in that skirt and those boots. Hard not to imagine what those pretty legs of hers would feel like wrapped around my hips.
Bet I could make you scream, sweetheart.
Didn’t know what to expect when Mollie told us she was bringing her business partner to visit the ranch.
I think I speak for all of us Riverses when I say Mollie Luck surprised us.
We worried she’d be a spoiled brat who’d sell the ranch to the highest bidder.
But she turned out to be a deeply kind, incredibly intelligent human who’s about to become my sister-in-law.
Wild the way life works.
Also wild that Wheeler—who clearly comes from money and is well educated—is so fucking good at darts, despite this initial hiccup.
Doesn’t add up.
She doesn’t add up.
Not understanding her feels like an exciting challenge. I like the idea of stretching my wings and being able to explore who she is. What turns her on.
Nice to be on my own for a minute without one of my brothers interrupting me.
I love my family, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes I feel trapped in my role as “rancher’s son” or “one of the Rivers boys.” Being part of our family comes with expectations that I’m not sure really fit.
I try to be a good brother. Good cowboy.
Upstanding member of the community. But that doesn’t leave a lot of time for exploration.
For doing something different, something that’s better suited to my interests. My personality.
Wheeler’s form is flawless. Strategy is solid. Makes me wanna pick her brain, then take her home so I can fuck her senseless.
“Where’d you learn to play?” I pluck the trio of brass-tipped darts off the board.
“I fooled around with darts back in college. I needed some money to get Bellamy Brooks off the ground, and gambling seemed like the most fun way to make it.” Wheeler lifts a shoulder, her Shiner in hand.
“I only recently started playing on a regular basis again, though. There’s this great little bar around the corner from my place in Dallas that I go to a couple times a week. Darts are good stress relief.”
“What’re you stressed about? Work?” I hand her the darts.
The playfulness in her expression dims. Just for half a heartbeat. Just long enough for me to know I’ve hit on a sore spot.
I’d know, because I’m plenty sore myself. Losing your parents at fourteen will do that to a body.
“Work. Yeah.” Her fingers linger on mine a little longer this time when she grabs the darts. “But now that Mollie’s got all the ranch stuff figured out or mostly figured out anyway, I’m hoping we’ll be on the upswing.”
I sip my beer as I watch Wheeler hit the tiny ring around the bullseye. She lets out a yelp of delight, throwing up her hands.
“See? All cowgirl.”
She glances at me over her shoulder. “How so?”
“You got knocked down, but you sure as hell ain’t staying down, are you?”
Wheeler narrows her eyes. “You lay it on thick, you know that?”
“Can you blame me?” I sip my beer and glance around the bar. “It’s always the same people hanging out in the same places around here. Nice to meet someone new.”
I’m happy that Cash found his person. No one deserves happiness more than he does. Not gonna lie, though, I’m jealous he nabbed the only new person to come to Hartsville in what feels like forever.
Really, I’m jealous he has an excuse to get out of town. Mollie and Wheeler’s business is still based in Dallas, where the rich ladies who buy their boots live. No one in Hartsville is going to buy a pair of thousand-dollar boots.
I wouldn’t say I’m a wannabe city boy. It’s just hard not to feel suffocated sometimes by a life as small as mine often feels. I also wouldn’t say I’m a playboy like Wyatt, but I do love to get out. Have some fun and work off some of this restless energy I got.
Maybe I can convince Cash we need to get away somewhere for his bachelor party. New Orleans, maybe, or Austin.
Reading my mind, Wheeler replies, “Grass isn’t always greener. Especially when the grass is in Dallas.”
Easy for you to say.
“Why boots?” I ask.
Her arm hinges at the elbow as she lines up her shot. “Why cowboying?”
“It’s what I was born into.” I shrug. “I like it just fine.”
“But?”
My heart dips. “How’d you know there was a but?”
“I’ve been staring at it all night.” She releases the dart. Twenty points. “You’re a Wrangler guy, huh?”
Laughing, I finish my beer. “Just like my dad.”
“He was a cowboy too?”
I like how she’s the one asking questions now. Is she curious about me like I’m curious about her?
She throws another dart. It lands on the board—another twenty—but I feel it land in my chest too. Aim precise, needle puncturing my breastbone.
“Yep. Just like his daddy and his daddy before that.”
Wheeler arches a brow. “That’s quite the legacy to uphold.”
“Cash is the one who shoulders most of it. The rest of us, we just gotta fall in line. Keep everything running nice and smooth.”
“You’re smooth.” Her eyes narrow. “But you’re different too, aren’t you?”
“What makes you think that?”
“You’re chatting up a stranger in the corner.” She glances across the bar. “But your brothers are with people they seem to know. Even your twin.”
She’s not wrong. Cash and Mollie are canoodling on the dance floor.
Wyatt is cozying up to Sally underneath a neon Miller High Life sign, and Ryder is doing tequila shots at the bar with Colt Wallace.
I’m close with Colt, but he and Ryder are super tight.
Sawyer’s the only one missing. Always the responsible parent, he’s at home putting his three-year-daughter, Ella, to bed.
I blink, feeling disoriented for a minute. Like I’m standing in the middle of a moving kaleidoscope, the familiar shapes and sounds around me shifting into an unfamiliar landscape.
Wheeler noticing I’m different isn’t objectively a big deal. But it’s a big deal to me. As a twin especially—Ryder and I were born ten minutes apart, numbers four and five in the birth order—I always felt like I got lost in the shuffle of my brothers.
My parents loved the hell out of us, of course.
But Mom and Dad had five kids in six years, and they didn’t have much help.
Attention, and often patience, were in short supply.
Especially when it came to those of us at the bottom.
I think by the time my parents had me and Ryder, they were exhausted.
They definitely didn’t have the energy to deal with an annoyingly curious son who loved school but was lukewarm on chores around the ranch.
“I’m good at it,” I say. “Being a cowboy. When you grow up working cattle, hard not to be. I love a lot about the job. Being outside. Working with my family. There’s purpose in it.”
Wheeler looks at me from underneath the fringe of bangs that tickles her eyelashes. “It’s not your purpose, though. Or not your whole purpose.”
Yes. You get it.
You’re a fucking smokeshow, and I want to know everything about you.
I never could do anything halfway. Mom used to say I was impulsive. Dad called me wild, and now so does Cash.
They’re not wrong. But maybe they were wrong about my curiosity, my restlessness, being a bad thing. A character flaw I needed to work on or change.
Then again, maybe I’m just delusional and a little drunk.
Whatever the case, I ain’t about to let this girl slip through my fingers.
“Always thought there’d be more.” I tip back my beer, even though there’s nothing left.
Feels too soon to touch Wheeler, and I need a reason to keep my hands busy.
Don’t want to scare her off by coming on too strong.
“That the world would be bigger somehow. I hate the idea of getting stuck here forever.”
She nods, a soft look in her eyes. “I get that. It’s one of my favorite parts of my job—all the people I get to meet, the places I get to see. It’s the best education there is.”
“I loved school.”
“Nerd—”
“Hey.”
She traps her bottom lip between her teeth. “I was going to say nerds unite.” She taps her bottle to mine. “I loved school too. It was the one thing I was reliably good at. The one thing I was praised for.”
“Seriously?” I grin and tip my chin toward the board. “What about your game? You’re a fuckin’ rock star at darts.”
Her cheeks flush pink. “I’m proud of that, yeah.”
“You should be proud you started your own business too. That’s awesome.”
Wheeler nods, looking down at the mouth of her bottle. “Thanks for saying that.”
“Why? Are you not proud?”
“I am.”
“But?”
Her eyes flick to meet mine. They glimmer. “How’d you know there was a but?”
“Yours is cute.”
“You noticed.”