The next evening, Wyatt opened the door to his dad’s office. His brothers had beaten him there, and their dad sat behind the huge mahogany desk that he called his command center.
Sure, where he sits and commands everyone and everything.
“Boys, thanks for coming up here so late. I know you want to get home after a long day.”
All Wyatt had wanted after work was to go back to his place and spend the evening with a beer and a ball game. Kade’s text about the meeting had shot that idea to hell.
“We need to decide what to do about finding a foreman replacement for Shorty. He and his wife will be leaving before too long.”
Wyatt leaned against the table by the wall, kept quiet. He wanted that job but knew Pop would never even give him a chance.
His brothers all looked at each other and nodded.
“We all agree who it should be. Shorty’s already given his blessing, too. Don’t have to place an ad or anything. He’ll be great at the job,” Nash said.
“Who?” Angus asked.
“Wyatt,” Nash said.
Wyatt whipped his head sideways to look at Nash. His brothers all thought he should get the job?
“Why him?” Angus asked.
Wyatt’s pulse sped up, and his muscles tightened, dread churning a hole in his gut.
“Who do you think stepped in, picked up the majority of the load the last few months, what with Shorty getting ready to leave?” Kade asked.
Pop looked at Wyatt, a scowl on his face. “You want this job?”
“Yes.”
“What makes you think you’re qualified?”
“I know this place inside and out. I know what needs to be done. I know the land.”
Angus leaned back in his chair, studied him. “How do I know you won’t get mad and quit, hightail it outta here again?”
“This is my home,” Wyatt said.
“And all you boys agree about this?” He looked at Nash, Kade, Hunter and Luke in turn as each nodded. “Clear out. I want to talk to Wyatt.”
His brothers all filed out, and Hunter knuckle bumped him in support. Wyatt moved forward and sat in the chair across from his dad.
“I want to know up front if you think you can do this job.”
“I’ve been doing it the last several months.”
“I know physically you can do it. There’s also a lot of paperwork to being a foreman. Hiring hands, payroll, scheduling, arranging cattle drives. I want Hunter to set up databases for the breeding programs, both cattle and horse. Foreman will have to manage it, keep it updated.”
Wyatt’s hands clenched around the arms of his chair. It wouldn’t do any good to blow his top now. He knew where this was going.
“You still have trouble reading, son?”
“Yeah, I’m still dyslexic. Not something you grow out of. But it is something you can learn to live with, compensate for. No one listened when I was young and having trouble. Now I can do something about it.”
Pop’s eyebrows shot up.
“At least now I can put a name to it.”
Angus leaned back and steepled his fingers together. “That’s good. I gotta tell you that most of the foremen around the neighboring ranches have college degrees, or at least a two-year associate’s degree. You need to earn this job. I won’t just give it to you because you’re my son.”
Wyatt took a breath, forced himself not to lose his temper. “I plan on getting my GED. Been studying.” He stood, started to walk to the door, stopped. “One thing at a time, Pop. I want this job.”
“Are you going to get in trouble again?”
Wyatt closed his eyes, the crushing weight of his pop’s disappointment a palpable presence in the room.
“Have you seen me get into trouble lately?”
“Trouble has either followed you around, or you led the rebellion, since you were a kid.”
“Well, I’m not a kid anymore. I had to grow up fast, take care of myself. I don’t want trouble. I’ve turned my life around, and it’s time you realized it.”
“Time will tell,” Pop said.
Wyatt turned and walked out, forcing himself to not slam the door. It could have gone better, could have gone worse. As his dad said, time would tell, and no one could make up Pop’s mind but him.
He left the lodge and headed toward the barn to get his motorcycle and go home. Raised voices in the evening shadows made his steps slow. Frankie and her father.
“Francine, you’re spending way too much time with that ranch hand and not enough time working,” Wentworth said.
“That’s not true, and you know it. I put in longer hours than anyone else on this team. And he’s not a ranch hand.”
“What about two days ago? You and John Allen went off riding horses and chasing cows. That’s beneath you. And then you spent the night at his cabin?”
“That’s none of your business—”
“None of my business? People are talking, Francine. You’re a Wentworth, and so is your son, and I won’t have anyone muddying your name or position. The team needs to respect their VPs if this merger is going to be a success.”
“I’ve earned that EVP title, you know I have,” Frankie said quietly. “And we didn’t spend the night as you’re implying. He was watching Johnny for me, I went to pick him up and fell asleep—”
“He’s not the right man for you. He’ll end up hurting you and John Allen.”
Wyatt’s whole body stiffened, and an intense heat flashed through his chest. He had to get out of there before he punched Wentworth in his shiny silver Colonel Sanders beard. He almost ran down the path, but he kicked a stray rock and it clanged against one of the metal railings.
“Who’s there?” Wentworth demanded.
“Wyatt? Is that you? Wait!” Frankie said, her voice getting fainter the faster he walked.
The barn in sight, he headed straight for his motorcycle and got on. He kick-started it, deciding he needed a long ride to cool off. First his pop had no faith in him, now Wentworth was sure he’d hurt his daughter. He’d had enough of fathers who ruled anyone and everyone with an iron fist.
“Will you wait a minute?” Frankie asked, appearing out of the shadows at a fast pace.
“I gotta go. ’Night, Frankie.”
She grabbed his arm, wouldn’t let go when he tried to pull away. “Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“Can’t we at least talk? I know you overheard, and I’m really sorr—”
“Drop it.” He revved the engine, itching to feel the night air and the isolation of the open road.
“Fine,” she said, then shocked him by climbing on the bike behind him.
“What’re you doing? Get the hell off my bike,” he said.
“Not unless you agree to stay here so we can talk.”
“Not in the mood,” he snapped.
“Then I’ll go with you till you get in the mood.”
Oh, hell. “Where’s Johnny?”
“At a sleepover with your niece and nephews.”
“You ever ridden on one of these?”
“Uh, no.”
He revved the engine again, flipped up the kickstand. “Then hold on.”
They took off like a shot, and she squealed, grabbing for his arms.
“Put your arms around my waist,” he shouted.
Her arms slid around his stomach, and she squeezed.
“It’s open road for the most part, but lean into the turns.”
“What?”
“Just feel what my body does and do that.”
He felt her scoot closer to him, molding her body to his.
Oh, crap. This might not be such a good idea.
It took her a while, but she finally seemed to get the hang of riding with him. Only problem was, her body was doing things to his it shouldn’t be. And the thoughts he was having about sleeping with her would never—could never—be a reality.
The sun had set a while ago, and now stars were popping out like diamonds in the dusky sky. This was the time of day he liked best, but it was marred by Wentworth’s words. He felt like he was sixteen again, when fathers pulled their daughters out of his way or slammed the door in his face.
Yeah, he’d been trouble. But that wasn’t him any longer. At least he was working on it.
Wyatt knew he wasn’t the right man for Frankie. They were too different. So why did she turn him on so damn much? Every time she looked at him with those pretty blue eyes, he wanted to kiss her. When she laughed, he wanted to snatch her away to the closest bed—hell, any horizontal surface would do—and make love to her.
And if she pressed herself any closer to him on the bike, he’d embarrass himself like a thirteen-year-old boy with his first girlie magazine.
He spotted the turnoff to the old hunting cabin and took a right, bumping down the rutted road.
Space.
He needed a few minutes of space away from her.
She’d be fine at the cabin while he cooled off.
He drove into the grove of trees protecting the cabin and stopped the bike. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Go on in the cabin out of the cold.”
He started walking away, but he heard her fancy shoes crunching on the dry leaves behind him.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be back,” he said and kept going.
She grabbed his arm. “Can I come with you?”
His patience snapped and he turned around, got up in her face. “I just spent the last thirty minutes with you pressing your smokin’-hot body against my back. Unless you want to take this into the cabin and get serious, I need some space.”
Her jaw dropped. Then she snapped it shut and smiled. But it wasn’t her normal smile. This one...this one was a siren’s smile. One that said come on in, let me show you a good time, sailor.
“You think my body’s smoking hot?” she asked and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He gripped her slim hips, tried to push her back. But she tightened her hold, pressed herself to him.
“I think you’re pretty hot yourself, cowboy,” she whispered in his ear.
His body hardened even more, bordering on pain.
“Frankie, I’m warning you—”
“I’m a single, healthy woman, standing in front of the most ruggedly attractive man I’ve ever seen, and he’s just told me he finds me hot. What do you think I want to do now? Wait here like a good little girl while you go cool off?” She shook her head slowly. “Not by a long shot, cowboy.”
She closed the short distance and pressed her lips to his. Her mouth fused to his, nipping, biting, licking, until it drove him damn near crazy. He thought his head—hell, his whole body—would explode from the sheer pleasure of her mouth.
He let go of her hips, slid one hand up to her neck and held her still while he took over the kiss. He cupped her ass with his other hand, pressed her against him until she whimpered. He walked her backward until they hit the cabin porch steps, then lifted her till she wrapped her legs around his hips.
She writhed in his arms, rubbing her body against his, and he stumbled up the stairs, kicked the door open. The cabin was dark, and he felt for the electric lantern on the table by the door, flicked it on.
A low glow chased some of the shadows away, enough to make sure the cabin was empty. He fumbled for the door, slammed it shut.
She circled her hips against his groin, and his knees almost buckled. He turned around, pressed her up against the door. She lowered her legs but kept full-body contact.
“You drive me crazy, Frankie.”
He didn’t think—no, he knew no woman had ever affected him like this. He’d never been a saint, but he’d always avoided relationships that went beyond some fun.
But with Frankie, it was more than that. Along she’d come with her kid, both worming their way under his skin. He liked being around them. It frustrated him, pissed him off—
She popped the top snap on his flannel shirt. “Now what was that you mentioned about getting serious?” She gripped his shirt and yanked it open.
Cool air hit his back as she pushed his shirt and jacket off. She stared at his upper body, then licked her lips.
It was all the invitation he needed. He pushed her thick blue sweater up until he could yank it off. Her light blue lace bra outlined her perky breasts, and he thought if he couldn’t see her naked soon, he’d die. But God help him, he couldn’t move.
She pushed off the door and stepped closer to him, reaching for the zipper on his jeans. The sound echoed in the quiet cabin as she lowered it.
“Wait,” he said, his voice harsh.
“Why?”
“Are you sure about this?”
She nodded, slid her hand inside his jeans and touched him.
Then he really did almost explode. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
She smiled, that damn siren smile. “Seeing as how you’re not even touching me—yet—I’d say I’m the one taking advantage of you.”
“You’re kinda bossy, aren’t you?”
“You should hear what they call me in the boardroom.”
Her words were light, but the hurt was there, beneath them.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m tougher than I look.”
“That’s not what I mea—”
“I know what you mean.” Even as he watched, a mask covered her face, and she kissed him, pulled him close. “Take me to bed, Wyatt.”
He slowly unhooked her pants and let them slide down her long legs. She kicked off her shoes, stepped away from the pile of clothing.
He’d never wanted any woman this way, this much. He shucked his boots and jeans as she slid her bra off.
They reached for each other at the same time, hands sliding, exploring, taunting, teasing, seducing. The bed was old, just a twin size. She lay down and pulled him on top of her. The old iron frame creaked and groaned, but he didn’t care.
He just wanted this vibrant woman beneath him with an insane passion.
He made himself stop thinking—stop thinking this was a mistake, stop thinking he’d eventually hurt her, stop thinking about the world outside—and just let himself feel.
* * *
FRANCINE WOKE WITH a start, a warm weight pressing against her backside. Wyatt spooned her from behind, one arm tucked around her middle, keeping her close. ’Course there wasn’t much room to spread out in this tiny bed, in this tiny cabin. Their cocoon.
She looked around the one-room cabin, noted it was hardly big enough for a stove, table and two chairs, and the bed. And it was surprisingly clean for being out in the middle of God only knew where.
She couldn’t believe what she’d done tonight. She’d gone on pure instinct when she climbed on the back of his bike earlier that evening. Then to actually seduce him? She’d never done that, even when she was married. Of course, Wyatt was nothing like her ex-husband.
Nor was he like any other man she’d ever met.
Maybe being in Montana was making her bolder, more adventurous in life.
He’d made her feel things she’d never felt before. The weasel had always told her she was frigid, that she never satisfied him.
But with Wyatt—well, they’d more than satisfied each other.
“You all right?” Wyatt’s voice rumbled in her ear.
“Yes. You?”
He stroked his thumb lazily across her breast. “Yep.”
“You’re a man of few words, aren’t you?”
“Don’t think it’s necessary to use a lot of words to get the point across.”
“I forgot to ask where Sadie is. Is she at your cabin?”
“She’s over at Luke’s with her husband.”
She turned her head to look at him. “Excuse me? Your dog has a husband?”
He grimaced. “Dang. That slipped out. Sounds goofy, don’t it? Maddy heard us talking that Luke’s dog is the father of her puppies and demanded the dogs get married.”
She laughed. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Were you the ring bearer?” she teased.
“I walked Sadie down the aisle, seeing as Maddy said I’m Sadie’s dad.”
“Okay, now that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. I want to see pictures.”
“You would,” he murmured.
She moved her arm to link fingers with him and caught a glimpse of her watch. A few minutes after eleven. “Oh, no!” She sat up fast, knocking his chin with her shoulder.
“Ow,” he said and rubbed his chin.
“I’m sorry. I need to check on Johnny. He’s never slept over with any kids.” She flung the blanket off and the cold air hit her hard, making her skin prickle.
“Never?” he asked, reaching for his jeans on the floor.
“No.” She leaned forward and picked up her clothes, shook out the slacks. “Oh, no. My phone isn’t here.” She scrubbed a hand over her face. “I must have left it in the conference room. We need to leave.” She slid her slacks on, then pulled the sweater on, and stuffed her bra in her pocket.
“Take a breath, Frankie.”
“But—”
A ding echoed in the tiny cabin, and Wyatt held his phone up. “I just texted Nash. He said Johnny’s fine. They’re having fun. Nash grilled burgers, made Johnny’s new favorite dessert, suhmores, they played a rousing game of Candy Land—Maddy’s favorite game—and watched Cars.”
Relief hit her hard. She’d been frantic, worrying about what a rotten mother she was, having fun with Wyatt while her son was possibly crying for her.
She looked down at Wyatt, still naked, comfortable in his nakedness.
He looked up at her, the strangest expression on his face. Then he seemed to shake it off and linked his fingers with hers, brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “Lemme get dressed and we’ll go.”
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, then dressed quickly.
She wavered, hating to leave but wanting to be closer to Johnny, just in case.
Wyatt picked up his denim jacket and held it out for her.
“No, you keep it. I’ve got this sweater on.”
“I’ll be fine. Wind’s blowing.” He held it for her to slip into, and she knew better than to argue this time.
“Thanks.”
He pulled the jacket into place, buttoned it up and stood the collar up to protect her neck. Then he pulled her into his arms, pressed a kiss to her forehead. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes. “Come home with me?”
She studied his face. The words were simple, straightforward, with a touch of vulnerability coating them.
Leaning forward, she kissed his lips. “Okay.”
They left the warmth of the cabin, and she shivered in the wind blowing through the trees. Full dark now, but the moon shone brightly, and the stars—the stars made her catch her breath.
“It’s so beautiful out here.”
“Yeah. I missed the nights the most.”
“I thought you had always lived here.”
The silence stretched out for several seconds.
“I was gone for a few years.”
“Where’d you go?”
They’d reached his bike, and he climbed on. “South. Come on. Need to get back.”
She climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, knew better than to press the issue now.
But it raised some questions.
Everyone had secrets, times in their life they didn’t want to discuss.
As they drove away, she wondered if he’d ever open up to her.