5 #2
Wyatt.
White T-shirt stretched tight across his broad chest, he’s tall and scowling in his fawn-colored cowboy hat.
I hate how my heart tumbles. How my body reacts to both of us being in the same proximity.
He’s here.
I’m here.
The perfect match for combustion.
We lock eyes, his frosty blue gaze capturing mine. I tense at the electric current that passes between us. A spark.
A detonation.
He’s moving forward now, toward me, but before he can say anything, Ruby swoops in.
“Fallon,” she squeals and throws her arms around me. Another big pair of arms encircle us. Charlie.
“We’re pregnant,” Ruby gasps when she pulls away.
Joy spears through me. Then worry. My eyes drop to her stomach.
Charlie chuckles. “Our surrogate is.”
“Fuck. I’m so happy for you. ” Finally . Finally, Ruby is getting her baby.
I sock Charlie’s arm. “Way to move that sperm, big guy.”
Charlie blushes, and I smirk. I’ve never seen the grumpy cowboy looking remotely like sunshine, but today he’s close.
“Damn,” Ford says, stepping up for a hug. He squeezes my bicep. Squeezes again. “You’re jacked, cowgirl.”
My breath hitches when I get to Reese.
“It’s okay,” she says like she’s read my thoughts. She releases me from a flowery-perfumed hug. Her smile bright and beautiful. “Not another word about it.”
A wave of messy emotions almost capsizes me, but I force them back down. I don’t deserve them. Any of them. They’re here to support me when all I’ve done is abandon them.
“Figures you’d pick a place hotter than hell.” Warmth rolls through me at the sound of Wyatt’s deep, rough drawl.
I look left, and suddenly, Wyatt’s in my space. All around me. All I see.
His approach is like a record scratch. The energy shifts. Everyone watches us like we’re a TV show they can’t turn off.
Muscles ripple around his square jaw. He doesn’t smile. His eyes have me locked in some intense gaze.
Truth is, I can’t tear my own from him.
Wild, windswept light-brown hair. A chiseled jaw dusted with stubble. Dimples women would sell their firstborn for. Wyatt’s always reminded me of a colt. Long, tall, tan. I’d set myself on fire before admitting how goddamn sexy he looks in those tight blue jeans.
I wonder if he’s kept our secrets like he promised.
I straighten. “Hell or not, I love it here.”
His boots settle inches from mine. Wyatt’s gaze drifts. I don’t miss the way those light silver-blue eyes slowly run the length of my body. The long black slip. My breasts. My face.
That’s when I remember what I look like. What I’m wearing.
I rub my mouth, hoping to erase the scarlet lipstick applied for the photoshoot.
“Been some time,” Wyatt says irritably.
Aware of eyes on us, I meet his stare with cool indifference. “Wish I could say I missed you.”
He lifts a brow. “I’d say that’s too sweet, even for you.”
Ford groans.
Defensive instincts take over, and I cross my arms. If he wants to fight, fine. I’ll bite. “I see you’re still an asshole.”
His eyes flash, anger there. “And you’re still a—”
Davis snaps his fingers. “How about we fuckin’ don’t?”
As Wyatt and I glare daggers, my fists ball like they can chase away the ache in my core. Like they can remind me of all the reasons why I have hated Wyatt Montgomery for so damn long.
One. He’s too damn handsome for his own good.
Two. He knows every way to push my buttons.
Three. For what he said years ago. He broke my heart, and I’m still not over it. I’ve held on to the petty grudge since I was sixteen.
The first time I met Wyatt, I was starstruck. He was the fastest rider I ever saw. He was rodeo. Dust and grit. Everything a cowboy should be. When my father told me he had signed me up for lessons, I screamed into my pillow.
Everything about it was a dream. My hero in the flesh. He’d make me a better rider.
Later that night, Dakota pops her head into my bedroom. “Better pucker up,” she teases, pointing at the poster of him above my bed.
“Shut. Up.” I bounce on my bed and chew my lower lip, remembering the way my father had looked at Wyatt earlier today. Another thing that got me bad. I had always worried my father wanted a son to carry on his legacy. It burned me that I couldn’t do that. “Dad likes him more than me.”
Dakota rolls her eyes. “ You like him more than Dad.”
“Dakota,” I hiss. She isn’t wrong, but she doesn’t have to say it so loud. “I will kill you.”
Wyatt and I trained together for six months. Evenings and weekends by his side. We bickered, argued, but it was still one of the best times in my life.
And then he said what he said.
Tears on my pillow. Dakota stroked my back and murmured soothing motherly things to me. I vowed he’d never know how hard I cried. I hated him. This stupid cowboy.
After overhearing what I did, I considered Wyatt Montgomery my rival. As good as dead to me.
I plotted. To be a better rider than him. To make him eat his words.
As we trained together over the years, I endured that smart mouth and irritating smirk to beat him at his game.
Then we went on the rodeo circuit together.
Close quarters meant loathing turned to lust. In the angriest kind of way, I fucked him.
Partly because of attraction, partly because it seemed like the best way to get under his skin at the time.
He broke my fucking heart back then.
I’d break his. In as many ways as I could.
There was a minuscule moment in time, an idiotic foolish girl notion, that we could be more. But…not anymore. Not after Aiden. And especially not after that letter.
Now, I’m committed to the bit of hating Wyatt Montgomery.
Petty spite works wonders.
“You live here?” Ruby asks, thankfully changing the subject.
Charlie slides an arm around her shoulder. My friends stare at me with a mixture of sympathy and curiosity.
“In that bunkhouse there.” I hitch a thumb. “I’ve been practicing riding bulls with Vic since I got here.”
Wyatt crosses his arms, sneers as he looks toward Pappy and Tripp. “Riding bulls include photographers and red lipstick?”
Hot temper erupts. I snap open my mouth.
But before I can say a word, Reese grabs my hand. “I think bulls and red lipstick go fabulous together.”
I give her a weak smile of thanks.
I want my family to see where I am now. What I’ve done. Who I am. That I left but I’m okay now. That this wasn’t a mistake—leaving. But most of all, I want Wyatt to know he doesn’t have to look out for me. Not anymore. Even if he is an asshole, he doesn’t deserve that.
Footsteps thump behind me. “Hell, since I got a circus on my property, think I deserve some introductions.”
“Shit.” I turn to Vic, who’s ambling our way.
I make introductions around the receiving line of friends and family. Charlie, Davis, and Ford shake Vic’s hand with a reverence reserved for legends. When I come to Wyatt, my hand drops in the space between us. “This is…Wyatt. He used to be my…trainer.”
I say it because it’s exactly the right thing to hurt. To push.
“Right,” Wyatt rasps, sounding pissed off. Almost in pain.
Good. He deserves it. If he wanted to see me so bad, he knew where to find me.
“I’ve heard about y’all,” Vic says with a chuckle. His gaze lands on Wyatt. “Almost all of ya.”
My eyes fly to Wyatt’s face. Stormy. Scowling.
Still, he reaches out to shake Vic’s hand.
I take a step back from Wyatt, needing the distance. My heart hammers so loud and fast I’m sure everyone can hear it.
Silence falls around us.
“Goddamn hot, ain’t it?” Tugging on the neck of his T-shirt, Ford looks up toward the blinding-bright sky and grimaces. He takes his baseball cap off and rests it on Reese’s blonde head.
Everyone looks exactly how I feel. Uncomfortable. Fucking awkward.
Meeting my sister’s eyes, I slap my hands on the sides of my thighs. “You want to find a bar. Get a drink?”
“A drink,” Charlie’s relieved voice rings out.
Typically, I don’t drink before a ride. But I like to take in the lay of the land. Competitors.
And once upon a time, I’d be in bed with Wyatt Montgomery.