Page 153 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
“Don’t be all upset with me,” she begins, examining her manicured nails. “I’m actually here to help. My family has decided to extend quite a generous offer.”
“What are you talking about?”
She smiles. “Well, I convinced Daddy to donate enough to ensure you win this little fundraiser of yours. All in exchange for Cash taking me as his Omega.”
My hands tighten on the feed bucket until my knuckles go white. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a small price, really. You have the other two men, and everyone’s happy. Isn’t that fair?” She tilts her head, blonde hair catching the sunlight. “You taking all three is rather greedy, don’t you think? Some might even say selfish.”
The rage that floods through me is volcanic. “Greedy?” I set the bucket down carefully because I’m afraid I might throw it at her perfectly contoured face. “Let me explain something to you, Brittany. Cash isn’t a prize to be bought. He’s not property your daddy can purchase with a big enough check. He’s a person, an Alpha who chose his mate. Me. His scent-matched, true mate. Not some fake wannabe in expensive boots who thinks she can buy her way into his bed.”
Her face goes red under her spray tan. “You don’t know who you’re messing with. My family?—”
“Your family can take their money and their threats and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine,” I interrupt, my Chicago street kid coming out in full force. “Cash is mine. Ridge is mine. Walker is mine. And I’m theirs. That’s not greed, sweetheart. That’s fate. That’s biology. That’s love. Something you wouldn’t understand if it bit you on your surgically enhanced ass.”
“You little?—”
“Mind you, I’m being polite compared to what Cash would say if you approached him with this bullshit. He’d probably laugh in your face. Actually, no, he’d probably just feel sorry for you. Because it must be exhausting, constantly chasing after men who don’t want you.”
Brittany’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. “You’re making a huge mistake. When your little ranch is foreclosed and you’re homeless, don’t come crying?—”
“Leave.” My voice drops to something dangerous. “Now. Before I forget my manners entirely.”
She spins on her designer boots with a huff. “You’ll regret this, you backwater little?—”
That’s when I grab the bucket and open the goat pen, shaking my head.
Suddenly, Harold charges out like he’s been shot from a cannon.
“Harold, no!” I call out, but there’s probably not enough conviction in my voice.
He’s already reached Brittany, that goat head low, and connects with her ass with the precision of a guided missile. She shrieks, arms windmilling, and goes face-first into the largest mud puddle on the entire ranch, the one that’s been growing for three days since the rains started and is now the consistency of chocolate pudding.
I shouldn’t laugh. I really shouldn’t.
But I’m chuckling anyway.
“You BITCH!” Brittany screams, struggling to get up but slipping back down, now covered head to toe in mud. Her hair is brown, her outfit is ruined, and I think I see tears cutting tracks through the mud on her face. “You did that on purpose! You made that feral beast attack me!”
“Harold’s not feral,” I say, walking over to grab his collar while trying to hide my grin. “He’s just not a fan of intruders on our ranch.”
She finally manages to stand, mud dripping from everywhere. “I’m going to sue! I’m going to destroy you!”
“Good luck with that,” I call as she squelches to her car, leaving muddy footprints. “Hard to prove assault by goat!”
She peels out, sending gravel flying, and I turn to Harold, who’s looking tremendously pleased with himself.
“Good boy,” I tell him, scratching behind his ears. “Extra treats for you today.”
He butts my hip gently, and I swear he’s smiling.
After securing Harold back in the pen and actually feeding the goats, I head to the main barn. We’ve transformed it into a training facility, complete with professional-grade equipment. My boots echo on the concrete as I slip through the side door.
The space opens up before me, impressive even after seeing it every day. Soft landing mats surroundthe mechanical bull in the center, weights and strength training equipment line one wall, and there’s even a reaction time board that Ridge has been using to sharpen his reflexes.
And there he is.
My hunk.
