Page 8 of Tempting Wyatt
I already gave myself from LA to Salt Lake to listen to breakup ballads and angry done-me-wrong songs. Since SaltLake, I’ve ridden in strangely welcoming silence, enamored with the landscape.
Malcolm is the past, and our life together is the past. Out here, LA feels a world away. It might as well be on a different planet.
I don’t know what I’ll do about finalizing the casting forCaptive, and I don’t know how in the world I’m going to meet my upcoming deadline for the screenplay I haven’t even started when my mind is as blank as the Montana sky.
All I know is, I’ve rented a cabin in the middle of the woods for the next two weeks, and I intend to make the most of it.
CHAPTER FOUR
wyatt
“YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME,” I groan for the second time today when a sleek black vintage-model Porsche comes winding down our driveway, kicking up dust as the sun sinks closer to the horizon.
Mom must’ve let them in the gate. I’d skipped lunch, having lost the time from the meeting with the suit. I’ve been repairing equipment, mending fences, checking and shifting cattle with Isaac, and chopping firewood all day. My muscles ache, and my gray shirt is so soaked with sweat that it’s now black.
If this is another suit here to offer to turn this place into a fucking ski resort, I’m going to start throwing shit. Namely the axe in my hand.
I’ve dealt with enough of them today already. Enough being one, which is one too many as far as I’m concerned.
Frustration and dread twist together aggressively with the hunger in my gut. Dad used to say hunger was good, gave you an edge. I’m about as on edge as they come right now, watching this dickhead coming up the drive.
It could be someone from the bank. We’re behind. We’ve been falling further behind every month since Dad passed.
The life insurance lapsed, and what little we were given barely paid a portion of the loans he’d taken out after Caleb’s mess.
As we went over the finances, my mother just shook her head and said, “He planned to catch it up with the next cattle sale.”
That was the thing about death. It didn’t give a damn what you had planned. Whatever you hadn’t done was left undone. Full stop.
We already had to let a few wranglers and several of the ranch hands go. I did my best to find them jobs with similar outfits.
I’m up to my neck in leased equipment that needs to be repaired or replaced.
We planned to lease land to a few neighboring ranches, like we had in the past. But those ranches are property of the Amos Black Foundation now.
The mortgage is late, the property tax is due, and we owe just about everyone.
Nice of the bank to drive their hundred-thousand-dollar vehicle here to deliver the reminder.
That’s fine. Two can play the intimidation game.
Stretching my neck, I grab the wood-handled axe I’ve been using as I make my way toward the shiny black car that probably costs more than my cabin is worth.
Wiping the sweat from my eyes with the hem of my shirt, I approach the car. Whatever they’re doing here, I’m going to let them know, in no uncertain terms, they aren’t welcome.
If this land is ever turned over, they’ll have to remove my cold, dead body from it.
The threats I’m prepared to make to get them off my property swirl in my mind. But when the driver’s door opens, it isn’t a suit who steps out.
The vision before me steals the breath from my lungs, keeping me stock still where I stand.
It’s a woman. A ridiculously gorgeous woman. A ridiculously gorgeous woman who is likely going to be a giant pain in my ass.
Whatever she’s here for, it can’t be good. The last thing I need right now is another distraction from the work that needs to be done.
I remain a few feet from the petite woman, who seems barely five feet tall, even in her heeled boots. Between the car and the shoes, she’s definitely lost.
She turns around and retrieves a large black handbag from the passenger seat. Then props oversized sunglasses on her head and regards me warily. Her prominent attributes appear to be wild, curly hair that falls past her shoulders, wide hazel eyes, and an ass that stretches the denim of her jeans perfectly. My cock twitches in awareness, which only serves to make me angrier.
