Page 40 of Playing Dirty
We didn’t need to talk. The images were still too fresh: the woman in the window, Matt grinning like he had nothing to hide.
That kind of lie doesn’t just happen once. It takes practice.
Repetition.
As we crested the last ridge, the gates of Lucky Ranch came into view. Patchy snow clung to the ground, and the old windmill we’d restored last spring spun lazily in the cold breeze. Beyond it, the fence line dipped toward the pond, cattle dotting the pasture like moving shadows.
We used to call this our second chance—me, Sawyer, Colt, Easton. Four cowboys who hit the Powerball and didn’t know what to do with all that luck. We could’ve lost ourselves in it.
Some days, I think I did, but the money didn’t keep me up at night.
Callie did.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel as we turned onto Colt and Tessa’s long drive. Their place sat near the east slope of the property, close enough for help, far enough for privacy. The house had grown over the months—more space for babies, Dalia, gear, dogs, and the kind of chaos that made it a home.
“You sure about this?” Sawyer asked, finally breaking the silence. His tone wasn’t challenging. Just tired.
I cut the engine and stared at the porch light flicking on automatically as dusk settled.
“Nope,” I muttered, grabbing the door handle. “But I’m doin’ it anyway.”
This wasn’t just about Matt; it never was. It was about Callie and how I might have to break her heart to save the rest of her.
Tessa opened the door with one hip, wiping her hands on a dish towel. One of the twins shrieked like a banshee somewhere behind her, and the other followed suit. Chaos, toddler-style.
“You two look like you’ve been dragged behind a truck,” she said, stepping back so we could come in.
“We need to talk… to make a plan,” I said, skipping past hellos.
But she didn’t move. Her eyes cut sharply between Sawyer and me. “Hang on. You’re not the only ones with news.”
That stopped me cold.
Colt stepped in behind her, one kid on his hip and the other trying to wriggle up his leg like a koala. “Tell ’em, Tess,” he said, voice low but tense.
She pulled her phone from her back pocket and handed it to me. “Lilly sent this over late last night. She was working on her customer list for a Valentine’s sale next year and remembered an old order that stuck out. Said it hit her funny.”
I looked down at the screenshot she had texted me—an invoice from almost a year ago.
Recipient:Melinda Rose Downing.
Delivery:Casper, Wyoming.
Card:I’m sorry. I’ll be home soon. – Matt
The asshole had even wired her daisies—Callie’s favorite flower since she was a kid. Jesus.
Sawyer leaned over my shoulder, face tight. “I’ll bet my millions that it’s the same woman we saw in Casper.”
I handed the phone back to Tessa, blood pounding in my ears.
Colt shifted the kid on his hip. “He didn’t just cheat on Callie.”
“No,” I said, my voice coming out like gravel. “The dirty bastard has been cheating on his wife.”
Sawyer nodded grimly. “He built himself a second life. Right under everyone’s nose.”
Tessa crossed her arms. “And she’s been questioning everything lately. Blaming herself for the distance. Thinking she wasn’t enough.”
