Wild Rivals (Wild Heartlands #3)

Chapter 1

WYATT

Frustration bubbles beneath my heated skin as I navigate one of the ranch trucks down the dirt track toward Hartlands Ranch. There’s a thunderous cloud over me, sucking the air out of the cab with each mile that passes.

In my back seat are two tourists, covered in dust and dirt, with faces that tell of the wrath I unleashed on them.

I caught them trying to pull their ATV out of an old storeroom in one of our pastures.

They had a heap of excuses, but I tuned them out and got to work on undoing the damage they’d caused.

They’ve got to be all of eighteen. With no sense.

As much as I can say this is their fault, it’s not really.

Maddie Hart—with her father—is running the show at the Harts’ ranch and making it her life’s mission to ruin this town.

She’s the one responsible for bringing the tourists here.

The one to blame for more damage being done to our land.

We don’t use that building anymore, and it was barely standing—with its crumbling brick and holes in the tin roof—but that is beside the point.

Yet again, the tourists have no regard for the land or the people that live here.

This time, an ATV has crashed through our fence and gone flying into an old building, but I remember the time one of the Harts’ tourists hurt a member of my family.

Not physically, but enough to change her from the person I knew into who she is today.

That’s part of the reason nothing the Harts do will ever sit right with me.

I pull up in front of the Harts’ main house, the bitter taste of history on my tongue.

Silence fills the cab as I cut the engine, the click of my seatbelt unbuckling like a guillotine blade hitting its wooden base.

This is the last goddamn thing I need to deal with today.

I shove my door open in my frustration before jumping out and slamming it shut behind me.

My annoyance builds with every step I take as I stomp around to the trailer attached to the back of my truck.

This is becoming a weekly occurrence, and it’s damn time the Harts did something about it.

Grayson, my older brother, has tried to ask them nicely, but clearly nothing is being done because this shit is still happening.

They should be warning their guests of the consequences of crossing into our land; I’d even settle for them being clear about the boundary markers.

Anything to put an end to this. Which is why I’m done being nice.

Like two kids in trouble with their parents, my passengers quietly climb out of the cab, softly closing the door behind them, as if they know how much damage they’ve already caused and are afraid of doing more.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch them exchange low chatter that I can’t quite make out before the girl heads into the main house, and the guy comes to stand beside me.

“We’re sorry for the damage. We’ll pay to get it fixed.” The kid kicks at the gravel beneath his feet, a stone rolling across the space between us and hitting my boot. He stops immediately, his eyes growing wide as he stares at me. That’s the least of your problems, kid.

I grunt in response, knowing full well that I’ll be out there fixing the fencing myself within the hour.

But he’s not wrong; they will pay for this.

Actions have consequences, and I’m not beyond making sure this kid knows that.

Somebody has to, and clearly that isn’t going to be the woman running this ranch. It never is.

“What’s going on?” a steady voice asks, authority threaded through every word and making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I pause as I feel her getting closer before forcing myself to continue loosening the ratchet straps holding the ATV in place. A familiar tightening pulls at my gut, but I ignore it, like I always do when it comes to her.

Without turning around, I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

I can see her face in my mind and the groove that always seems to form between her brows whenever we interact.

She always finds a way to get under my skin, and it’s never in the right kind of way.

There’s always been a push and pull between us, but it stems from our dislike for each other.

At least it used to. Lately, something about her feels different, and being around her stirs feelings inside me that leave me feeling off balance in a way I can’t explain.

Here I was hoping I could drop this off and avoid the confrontation until I’ve managed to calm the angry storm swirling inside of me, but it seems that’s not going to happen.

It feels like any time I’m around a Hart lately, it’s getting harder to bite my tongue.

I’m reaching my limit of the shit I can deal with and I don’t think Gray or Kade—my younger brother—would appreciate me getting into a spat in enemy territory, especially when we have an important meeting this afternoon that could open doors for us in Arizona.

Running my tongue over my teeth, I turn toward Maddie, leaning against the truck bed as the kid runs toward the ranch house.

Her long brown hair hangs in waves around her face, framing her petite features.

If she wasn’t the sister of a guy I can’t stand, and the reason for ninety-nine percent of my headaches, I might think she was pretty.

But she is, and because of that, I wouldn’t touch her with a branding iron, no matter how much my body seems to want her.

That tightening in my gut twists a fraction more as I roam my eyes over her from head to toe.

She’s giving me the same look she has for years; it’s laced with a hint of annoyance and disgust. I ignore it, like always, and continue my perusal of her, partly for my own enjoyment but mostly because I know it irks her.

Today, her long legs are on display in the mid-thigh summer dress she’s wearing, and for a second I allow myself to wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around my waist.

Shaking my head, I refocus my attention, the corner of my mouth lifting in a cross between a snarl and a smile. She’s part of the problem, bringing these people into town without a care. “You need to keep your visitors on a tighter leash, Hart,” I grit out, a bite to my tone.

Her head rears back as if I’ve hit her before she catches herself and stands taller, pushing back her shoulders. “Excuse me?” she scoffs.

Looking her over from head to toe, I sneer, “You heard me. They’re out there damaging my land because you’re”—I point at her as my top lip curls in disgust—“letting them run around without supervision as if you’re not the reason they’re here in the first place.

You should be grateful I didn’t leave them out there for a grizzly to find.

Something tells me you might actually care if you got a lawsuit. ”

She folds her arms across her chest, and I hate that I drop my eyes to her breasts as they’re pushed up. What would it feel like to hold the heavy globes in my palms, to roll her tight nipples between my calloused fingers?

Fuck.

What the hell is wrong with me? Nothing Maddie Hart does should ever hold my attention, let alone have me thinking things like that. I have to remind myself of who she is and why I’m here, just to ground myself.

Maddie exhales, dropping her arms to her side before muttering, “I don’t have time for this.” Running a hand over her forehead, she adds, loud enough for me to hear, “I’ll pay for the damage, just send me the bill.”

“Aren’t you tired of constantly having to clean up their messes?” I throw a thumb over my shoulder. “It’s a weekly occurrence at this point, so it’s got to be eating at your bottom line.”

She huffs out a breath and ignores my question. “Can you put the ATV down by the barn, please?”

I stare at her, my eyes bouncing around her face, taking in the dark circles beneath her eyes before I push off the truck.

Her shoulders drop as if she’s relieved that I’m not pushing her.

Something about the way she relaxes in front of me throws my hackles up and I make a split-second decision. Ain’t no way I’m doing a Hart a favor.

“Nope,” I reply, moving to the trailer and getting back to work on the ratchet straps that are keeping the busted-up ATV in place.

Gravel crunches under her boots, and for a moment I convince myself that she’s leaving, but even with my back to her, I can tell that’s not where she’s headed.

I hate that I have any sort of awareness of her, and that I have to convince myself that it’s only my instincts kicking in with an inherent need to protect myself.

The truth is, I don’t need to see Maddie’s face to feel her anger; it’s lapping at my back like the waves in the ocean.

I should revel in it, but all it does is spark a fire of need in me for more.

“Can’t you, just for once, do something nice for someone else, Wilde?” she snaps, fully focused on her anger and unaware of my wandering thoughts.

I like her like this, where she’s barely holding back, ready to fight and staring daggers at me. This side of Maddie I can deal with. This version is the one that reminds me of who she is and who she’s related to. It makes it a hell of a lot easier to ignore my body’s natural reaction to her.

“You should know me well enough by now, Hart.” I glance at her, my brow raised and daring her to challenge me.

“I don’t do shit for your family. Now, if it were anybody else, that would be a different story.

” I throw the ratchet strap over the ATV.

It clatters to the ground with a thump that echoes around the yard.

“Besides, don’t you have brothers who can deal with this for you? ”

A muscle in her jaw ticks when I turn to stare at her. Silence settles between us. With every barb, her anger, like a raging inferno, flickers in the depths of her dark brown eyes before she blinks and it’s gone.

She sighs heavily, the sound laden with exhaustion as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

With one last look at the ATV, she says, “Just leave it wherever you want, Wilde.” Defeat coats the words, and her eyes go glassy as she adds, “I’ll figure it out.”

She stares behind me at the ATV, as if she’s trying to work out how she’s going to get the vehicle moved, before she walks away, leaving me behind to feel like a jackass.

My guilt is short-lived. I refuse to feel bad for a Hart, no matter how hurt or overwhelmed she looks.