“Oh, we’re really doing this. Okay then.” I polish off my drink and set the empty glass on the bar. “Los Angeles.”
Her petite face scrunches, like she smells something rancid. “Oh. California. Wow. I’ve been to Santa Barbara before.”
I nod. “I’ve never been but I hear it’s nice.”
She glances around in search of someone more interesting.Unfortunately, everyone near us is already engaged in conversation with someone else.
“So,” she says softly, dragging out theOfor an extra few syllables, “you and the rancher then? I didn’t mean to step on any toes. I actually thought you came in with the other guy. The cowboy he pointed to.”
Clearly she’s clocking every man that comes through the door. Or maybe just the really hot ones, which is understandable.
“I did ride here with the cowboy. Isaac. I’m just renting a cabin on their ranch, is all.”
Although I did just confess to Wyatt that I’d like to ride his face, among other things.
Isaac is adorable and probably the most charming man I’ve ever met. But there is something about Wyatt. He keeps his words to himself, unless he has something valuable to say. He carries himself like he’s in control of every room he enters and commands attention without trying. And, okay, if I let my baser instincts decide, his ass in those jeans is hypnotizing.
I have functioning eyeballs so I was attracted to him the minute I saw him. But the more time I spend with him, the more time I want to spend with him.
I’ve never felt this way before. In my previous relationships, I found spending too much time together suffocating. With Wyatt, I can only breathe deeply enough when he’s nearby.
These realizations must be compliments of the booze. I vow not to drink any more before I start composing an ode to his perfect ass.
I can barely look at him when he returns and pawns his brother off on the blonde. Isaac immediately begins chatting her up with ease. Within two minutes, they’re laughing and talking like they’ve known each other forever.
“So, you just passed on a sure thing,” I say, nudging his shoulder.
“Not my speed,” he says, holding eye contact until I get twitchy. “This was so much easier when Asher and Caleb were both here to be his wingmen.”
I bite my lower lip, praying my teeth can hold my words in.
They can’t.
“So, what is your speed?”
He tilts his face toward mine. Our gazes collide, and I feel his words as he speaks them. I see the tension ripple across his face at how hard he tries to hold them inside.
“You, Hollywood. You’re my speed.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
wyatt
ALL I HAD TO SAY TO ISAAC was, “Blonde from out of town, leaving tomorrow,” and he practically sprinted back to the bar ahead of me.
With that situation contained, I’m free to focus on Ivy.
Damn, she looks good in that dress. Seeing her in the boots I bought her brings out a possessive energy every time. I want to beat on my chest and tell every motherfucker in here that she’s mine.
But she’s not, and I have to keep reminding myself she’s leaving soon.
I’ve always been protective of my family, our way of life, and our ranch, but never of a woman. Not like this. And especially not one who doesn’t belong to me.
But now that we’ve admitted we both want this, I can’t get her out of this bar and into my bed fast enough.
I’m so focused on Ivy that I almost don’tnotice Isaac’s two admirers—the blonde and the redhead from earlier—engaging in a heated discussion that’s reaching its boiling point.
Ivy notices though. She points over my shoulder. “Um, Wyatt? Maybe you should?—"