Page 44 of Tempting Wyatt
Isaac raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything when I take another turn a little faster than I probably should. He remains quiet, letting me navigate the next few bends in the trail. I start to get the hang of it, easing into the turns and finding a rhythm.
“Not bad,” he offers as we hit a stretch of bumpy terrain. “Now, give it a little more gas. Let’s see how she handles.”
I press down on the pedal, and we surge forward, bouncing over the uneven ground. Laughter bubbles out of me suddenly as the wind whips through my hair.
“That’s more like it,” Isaac shouts over the engine noise.
The trail narrows, and trees loom closer on either side. I grip the wheel tighter, my nerves returning.
“Just keep your eyes on where you want to go,” he instructs, his voice calm now. “The machine will follow.”
“Kind of like a horse,” I suggest.
He grins. “Kind of.”
I focus on the path ahead. The trees blur past. I embrace the adrenaline rush as I steer us through the twists and turns. By the time we reach an open field where he tells me to pull over, I’m feeling pretty proud of myself.
“How’d I do?” I ask, slowing to a stop and turning to face him.
Isaac tilts his head, pretending to think. “Well, you didn’t flip us, and I’m still in one piece. I’d say you did all right.”
“Just all right?” I press. “Come on. Admit it. I crushed it.”
“Sure you did, darlin’,” he says, his smirk infuriatingly charming. “Pretty good for your first time, I guess.” He nods down at my boots. “Must’ve been those new kicks you picked up somewhere, even though I don’t think I’ve seen you leave the ranch.”
I meet his inquisitive stare, but say nothing, unsure of how Wyatt would feel about me telling his brother he bought me expensive boots.
A blast from the walkie-talkie thing he’s got strapped to his belt startles us both, saving me from an explanation I wasn’t prepared to give.
“Isaac, what’s your twenty?”
The voice sounds like the ranch foreman, Antonio.
Isaac tells him where we are and says something about checking damage to the fence line out this way. The response is delayed, leaving Isaac and me sitting on the roadside, awkwardly staring at each other while we wait.
“Thanks for the lesson,” I say, breaking the silence.
“Anytime,” he replies, tipping his hat. “And don’t think this means you’re off the hook. Next time, I’m taking you through the mud.”
I groan, but a part of me is looking forward to it. I’ve never had siblings, but Isaac is the kind of brother I wish I’dhad. Fun, carefree, willing to teach me to drive and risk his life in the process.
Before either of says anything else, Isaac turns to an approaching black truck with the ranch’s brand in faded copper on the side as it pulls up near us.
I smile when Wyatt exits the truck and approaches, eager to tell him how well I drove the side-by-side all the way out here.
But he never even looks at me.
He focuses on Antonio, who rode out here with him and Isaac, who points to an area of the fence. One post is bent, and they agree a bull could’ve rammed it. But then Wyatt says something I barely hear about tool marks.
The three men engage in shop talk, leaving me to myself.
I make a mental note of the scenery, cataloging it all in my writer brain.
When Wyatt turns to leave, he barks out an order on his own walkie-talkie about ranch hands coming out here to fix the fence line. I expect him to greet me, to tease me about not flipping the side-by-side my first time, but he never makes eye contact. Passes right by me without so much as a glance in my direction and climbs back into his truck. Antonio offers me an apologetic grin with a tip of his hat, and then they’re gone, truck tires kicking up dust in their wake.
I stand there, frowning, unsure as to why he ignored me and why I’m so hurt over it.
Isaac nods to the side-by-side. “You driving us back?”
