Page 26 of Tempting Wyatt
That’s all this is. I just didn’t notice it before she arrived because I was focused on work.
Like I should be.
She’s beautiful and conveniently close by. But she’s also a paying guest—my mom’s very first paying guest—and currently residing on my property. Not a good idea.
The only other guest we’d ever had was our cook MissLottie’s sister. Miss Lottie’s real name was Loretta but none of us could pronounce it as kids so Lottie had stuck. I couldn’t remember her sister’s name, but she’d stayed for a weekend and told my mom she’d leave a positive review online. At that time, I hadn’t known what she’d meant and hadn’t given it a second thought. Obviously, I should have.
When we arrive at the house, I know I need a minute. And at least a hundred feet of space.
“Stay here,” I tell her before heading into the house to find Sutton’s spare boots. I’m pretty sure she wears around the same size as Ivy.
I locate them quickly in the mudroom, but I still need time to clear my head of the Ivy-induced fantasies.
Paying guest. Paying guest.
Don’t need another situation like Nina.
The thought of Nina should be enough to kill my erection for the rest of the day.
But it’s not.
Five minutes later, I’m on my knees, shoving Ivy’s small feet into Sutton’s boots, and I’m fucked.
So very fucked.
When I pop her heel into the boot, I glance up, and she’s already watching me. She’s not looking at the boots. Her gaze blazes into my skin. There’s an inferno of heat in her eyes, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, like she’s thinking about something she shouldn’t be. I’m pretty damn sure I know what it is because I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I first laid eyes on her.
I’m old enough to know when a woman is thinking about fucking me.
We could agree to something casual while she’s here.
The thought barely takes shape before I kill it, standing abruptly once both boots are on her feet. “You want coffee?”
“I had a cup back at the cabin.”
“One cup isn’t gonna cut it, Hollywood. It’s a long day.” I nod toward the house. “I’ll grab you a thermos.”
More like give myself some more time to stop thinking about how good she’d feel beneath me.
Inside, I fill a thermos with coffee, adding cream and sugar—because she looks like the kind of girl who takes her coffee sweet. And then I haul my ass back outside before my mind drifts somewhere it shouldn’t.
We ride to the stables in silence. Well, I’m silent. Ivy comments on every single thing she sees. I keep my responses limited mostly to grunts.
There’s too much to do today. I don’t have time for distractions.
For whatever this is.
I have a ranch to run. I don’t have the luxury of playing grab-ass—no matter how perfect the ass in question might be.
“We missed the morning briefing, but Isaac handled it,” I tell her.
Her expression flickers, like this somehow disappoints her. “Because I didn’t have the right shoes?”
“Because I didn’t think to grab you a pair of Sutton’s boots at dinner last night. It’s not a big deal.” I nod toward the pastures. “Isaac covers for me when needed. We’ll do a lap on the ATV first and make sure there aren’t any fires to put out.”
She quirks a brow. “Literal or metaphorical fires?”
“My luck? Could be either. Odds are fifty-fifty.”
