Chapter 4
MADDIE
Deacon, my eldest brother by three years, navigates his truck into the parking lot of the rodeo arena.
A country-rock song plays over the stereo as he taps his thumb to the beat on the steering wheel.
Sawyer, who is two years younger than me, and Rhett, who is the baby of the family and the one I’m closest to, are in the back seat talking in low tones among themselves.
I’m not paying any attention to them though; I’m too busy taking in the bright lights and sounds of excitement that thrum in the air.
It’s been too long since we last did this.
Since I last did this. I used to tag along to the rodeo every other week, but in the last year or so, I’ve taken on more responsibility with the events side of things at the ranch, and it’s been incredibly busy.
My entire life has effectively been put on hold as I’ve learned the ropes, shadowing Daddy.
But tonight, I’m letting loose—or as loose as I can when I’m around my brothers.
They have a habit of finding trouble when they’re together, which usually means I have to step in and break them up.
With that thought, I scan the area looking for a certain six-foot-something cowboy who has a habit of causing me trouble. I just want one relaxing night with no drama, and I don’t think that’s too much to ask for.
The arena parking lot is filling up fast, and we’re crawling forward in search of a parking space.
I love when the arena is busy like this.
The atmosphere is electric, and you can practically feel the energy buzzing through the place.
It’s exciting and filled with a delicious tension, the kind that has you on the edge of your seat or cheering so loud you almost lose your voice.
“You excited for tonight, Mads?” Deacon asks, turning to look at me as we wait for a truck in front of us to park up.
“I am.” I pause before adding, “But don’t go ruining it by picking a fight with someone and, for the love of God, ask a woman if she’s taken before you start flirting with her.” I cock a brow, daring him to deny it, because we both know, out of the four of us, he’s the one that needs the warning.
Last year, Deacon got into a fight with a guy from a few towns over because he was a bit too flirtatious with the guy’s girlfriend. Deacon ended up with a broken nose, and I’m surprised that’s all the damage that was done given he was fifty pounds lighter than the guy.
Deacon aims what I’m sure is meant to be a charming smile at me, holding a hand over his heart as if I’ve wounded him. “You got me confused with someone else, kiddo. I’m nothing but a gentleman. Besides, tonight is about getting to spend time with y’all.”
I shake my head and chuckle, turning my attention back out of the passenger side.
Deacon likes to call this “sibling bonding time,” but nine times out of ten he’s bickering with someone about something.
It’s more about us being there to have his back than spending time together; after all, we work the ranch together, so it’s not like we never see each other.
“Whatever you say, Deacon,” I mutter, a smirk dancing on my lips.
Doors being slammed shut mingle with the distant sound of music coming from the arena as it filters through my open window.
We continue to crawl through the lot, and I take in everything as if it’s my first time all over again.
Small groups gather at the back of trucks as some people linger to chat, while others walk toward the arena.
God, I need this.
I need to have fun and let loose a little. I’ve been focused on ranch business for too long. It’s almost as if I’ve forgotten how to have fun, because while I’ve been doing everything I can to help people make special memories, I haven’t made any of my own.
Deacon parks up before taking one last look in his rearview mirror and smoothing a finger over one eyebrow. When he’s primped, he grabs his phone and wallet from the center console and reaches for the door handle.
I roll my eyes, and he laughs, before climbing out of the truck and slamming his door behind him. God, I love him, but he’s so predictable. If he’s not getting into an argument with someone, then he’s taking a woman home. Those are two things I can always count on.
Climbing out of the cab of the truck, I push back my shoulders, a hint of something light and carefree washing over me.
Up ahead, the bright lights of the arena block out the starry night sky, with a faint hint of fried food and the scent of hay filling the air.
It’s a comforting smell, throwing me back to a time when I had zero responsibilities and coming here would be a weekly occurrence.
I trail behind my brothers, watching as they talk animatedly.
Whatever it is they’re talking about isn’t anything I need or want to know; that much I know for sure.
The corner of my mouth kicks up as a memory hits me.
I learned the hard way a long time ago that I don’t have to be included in everything when I tried to get them to do just that and they made a point to talk about the best way to wash their foreskin.
It’s safe to say I never asked again, and for a good year or two, they teased me relentlessly for my reaction.
A noise draws my attention away from my brothers, and when I look in the direction it came from, my eyes lock onto a familiar face. Wyatt. He’s scowling at the back of Deacon’s head, his hands fisted by his side, before he drags his attention away from him and it lands on me.
The intensity in his stare makes the breath lodge in my throat, and a swirl of something I refuse to acknowledge flashes through my gut before I catch myself and match him scowl for scowl.
Wyatt is insufferable, selfish, and an arrogant ass.
He always has been and I’m certain he always will be.
And if that wasn’t enough, he’s going to ruin my night.
Like he always does whenever Deacon and he are in the same vicinity.
It’s been this way for years. If it were just me, Rhett and Sawyer, I’d ignore Wyatt, have my fun and allow him to stew with his feelings, but with Deacon, it’s a whole other story.
Now that I know Wyatt’s here, I’m going to have to be on high alert instead of enjoying myself and letting down my hair tonight.
Damn you, Wyatt Wilde.
My voice is hoarse from cheering on the riders as the night has gone on.
We’ve been here for a few hours now, and thankfully, I haven’t seen Wyatt since the parking lot.
I don’t even think Deacon knows Wyatt’s here.
Even if he does, it’s sure been a lot easier to have fun given Deacon hasn’t left his seat all night.
No sooner has the thought entered my mind than I spot Wyatt and his family out of the corner of my eye. I bite back my groan of frustration. How does he do that? Appear out of nowhere when it’s the last thing I want, as if my thoughts have conjured him up.
Tension skates down my spine as I covertly watch them.
One after another, they walk through the gate that separates the public from the riders.
Given Kade—Wyatt’s younger brother—has ridden tonight, and they sponsor the shows, it shouldn’t surprise me that they were in the restricted part of the arena watching Kade ride.
I cast a glance at Deacon from his seat in the bleachers beside me, my eyes blowing wide when he stands.
“You want another beer?” Deacon asks.
I look down at my empty bottle before returning my focus to him, trying to decide my next move.
Either I send him off by himself or I tell him I’ll get it and then have to explain that I’m trying to contain the situation, which I know he hates.
Maybe I can just watch Wyatt and if it looks like anything’s going to happen, I can jump in.
Deacon doesn’t need me to follow him around like a bodyguard.
Deciding that’s my only real choice, I offer Deacon a soft smile and say, “Yes, please.” Fluttering my lashes, I add, “And if you pass it, I’d love a funnel cake.”
He shakes his head but doesn’t tell me no before walking off. I watch him until he disappears out of sight, and then my attention drifts toward Wyatt and his family as they settle into their seats further down in the bleachers.
My heart races as I scan the space the Wildes are now occupying.
No.
No, no, no, no.
Where’s he gone?
Shit.
Standing, I dust off my jeans and push up onto my tiptoes as if that will give me a better advantage. I can’t see any better than when I was seated, which means there’s only one thing for me to do. I’ve got to find Deacon or Wyatt before they find each other.
“Where are you rushing off to?” Sawyer asks, moving his feet out of my way as I step past him on my way to the end of the aisle.
I don’t bother answering him; my attention is on the crowd, searching for Deacon and the guy he can’t help but take the bait with.
It’s always the same old shit with them, and it’s not like I can send Rhett or Sawyer after them.
Not when all they ever do is egg Deacon on.
God, I’m tired of being the only adult out of my siblings and the only one capable of not letting Wyatt get under my skin.
At least not in the same way as he does with my brothers.
Lately I’ve been feeling… stirrings whenever I have to deal with him.
The kind of ones that if it was anybody but him, I’d consider acting on, but instead, I ignore them.
Truthfully, I haven’t been touched by a man in years, so the fact that I feel anything around Wyatt is purely down to the lack of sex in my life.
It has nothing to do with him. It can’t.
Wyatt is the first one I find, moving through the arena with practiced ease as he heads for the bathrooms. Okay, now where is Deacon?
I spot him at the same time Wyatt must, because he changes course, heading in Deacon’s direction, a snarl on his face and his hands forming fists by his sides.
Fuck.
I push my way through the crowd, watching the entire time as they exchange heated words. It’s easy to keep sight of them, given their towering heights.
Wyatt pushes Deacon, and he drops the beers and paper plate in his hands. Not the funnel cake. I was really looking forward to that. The thought vanishes as reality catches up with me.
I’m within earshot now; their anger and frustration is palpable, but nothing new.
“I’m tired of this shit, Wilde. You think you’re the only one who was impacted that night?” Deacon snaps.
Oh God.
I can feel the tension rolling off them. They’re like two bulls ready to butt heads with no care for the environment they’re in; all they can focus on is the red fabric the other is dangling in front of them.
A crowd forms around them, spectators enjoying the free entertainment before the riders start up again.
Wyatt closes the gap between them, his teeth bared as he spits, “You don’t fucking get it, do you? You don’t—”
Enough. How many more times do they have to repeat the same old shit? God, they’re pathetic and both need to get some therapy or move on.
I burst between them, pushing at Wyatt’s chest and forcing him to take a step back as I move him away from Deacon. With my palm resting on his warm chest, I pull in a breath, focusing on the erratic beating of his heart. “Stop it.”
He looks down at me, his top lip curled in disgust before his face relaxes just enough to tell me I’m getting through to him.
“Please,” I plead softly, like I’m trying to soothe a wild animal.
He shakes his head, his nostrils flaring as he looks between me and Deacon. “Saved by your family yet again, Hart. Fucking coward.”
It doesn’t matter if Deacon is a coward or not.
Wyatt could have walked away, or not made a beeline for Deacon in the first place.
Instead, he’s doing what he always does: starting shit.
When we were younger, I would have challenged Wyatt on calling Deacon out, but now, after all these years, I know that it will get us nowhere.
Besides, I don’t need to provide gossip for the town tomorrow and half of them are surrounding us, poised for what will come next.
It’s only when Wyatt steps back that my hand falls to my side.
There’s a tingling sensation in my fingers from the contact, and I press my lips together to mute my heavy breaths.
I hadn’t even realized I’d still been touching him, and yet it feels like I’ll carry this reminder for the rest of the night.
He storms off, his back straight and fists clenched at his sides, as I’m left frozen in place. The once bustling arena now feels deadly quiet, and I’m not sure I could move even if I wanted to. It’s as if he’s put a spell on me and all I can do is watch his retreating form.
It could be a matter of seconds or minutes, but Wyatt is nowhere in sight when the emcee’s voice blasts over the sound system announcing the next event. The sound pierces the quiet bubble I was in, bringing me back to the moment with a bump.
What the fuck was that?
As the crowd disperses, I round on Deacon, ignoring every cell in my body that demands I analyze what the hell just happened.
Stepping into his space, I narrow my eyes, ready to take my confusion, frustration and anger out on him.
It’s easier to deal with Deacon than it is to acknowledge that Wyatt might have some sort of hold over me. That’s dangerous territory.
“I thought we were here to have fun?” I demand, setting my hands on my hips. “Sibling bonding time, or whatever the hell you want to call it?”
He points in the direction that Wyatt went. I can feel the dark cloud hanging over him, and if we’re not careful, it will pull him under again. Just like it did fifteen years ago. “I’m sorry, but that wasn’t on me, Mads.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling before I meet his gaze. “None of it is, Deacon, I know that, but you’ve got to stop letting him get under your skin. This happens far too often, and he’ll just keep pushing because he can.”
He reaches up and squeezes the back of his neck. I know that the decision he made all those years ago still eats him up. He lives with it every day, but he has to move on.
“You’re right.”
I step into his side, banding an arm around his waist and squeezing him. “Maybe it’s time you saw that therapist Dr. Odin recommended?”
His body tenses before he forces himself to relax. I step back, searching his face and hating the fact that he looks so lost. “I’ll think about it.”
That’s all I can ask.
I exhale a heavy breath before grumbling, “You still owe me a funnel cake.”
Deacon chuckles, and my shoulders relax as he pulls me into his side. “Come on then, let’s go get you one together, seeing as I apparently can’t be trusted.”
I think I might be the one who can’t be trusted, especially if I let Wyatt affect me like that again. It’s about time I took some of my own advice and firmed up the barriers around me.