He brushes his thumb over my lower lip. "Maybe I should check these too."
The touch sends electricity through me, and I know he can see my reaction. I'm completely transparent to him, and that's more dangerous than any spooked horse.
"You have all the lines, don't you?" I manage, my voice breathy instead of dismissive.
His smile turns wicked. "Only the good ones."
I need to regain control before I do something stupid like let him kiss me.
"I owe you one," I say, forcing my voice back to normal. "For the rescue andfirst aid."
"Do you now?" His smile is positively predatory and my pulse jumps.
"Name your price." The words escape before I can stop them, and I watch his expression shift into something that's part triumph, part hunger.
"Go to dinner with me," he says without hesitation. "Tonight."
"I—what?" His innocent request catches me completely off guard. I half expected something that would put color back in my cheeks.
He's already standing, packing up the supplies with casual confidence.
"That's not how it works," I protest. "I'm supposed to do something for you."
He walks backward toward the barn door. "I'll pick you up at six." He grins like he's won and steps into the sunlight.
I'm left sitting on the barn floor, mouth hanging open, defenses in shambles. Six o'clock. Dinner.
I'm not about to let him parade me around his hometown like arm candy. We’ll eat at the cottage. I’ll make sure of it.
Although eating at my place is more intimate. Will he think that's what I want? A quiet dinner for two? Do I want him to run his fingers through my hair?
Absolutely not!
I push to my feet, ignoring how the idea of Wyatt in my space sets off butterflies. I know we're a recipe for heartbreak, but I feel reckless enough to want a taste.
Ten
WHO INVITED THE RIFFRAFF?
WYATT
It took everything I had to walk out of that barn and leave Kinsley sitting there, but I was trying to be a gentleman. She's strong and stubborn—two qualities I apparently find irresistible in a woman. If I hung around too much longer, I might’ve tried to show her just how tempting she is. Tonight though... tonight at dinner is a different story. Give me a few hours and I’ll make her forget all the reasons she thinks she shouldn't want me.
The screen door slams behind me as I step into the main house, and the scent of coffee and leather polish wraps around me like an old coat and for just a second, I think I’m a kid again.
The house has changed over the years. Dad knocked out the walls and added support beams to create a more openspace than the original log cabin allowed. From the doorway, you can see into the kitchen, dining room, and family room—one flowing expanse held up by massive timber beams separated by floor-to-ceiling windows.
The kitchen centers around a granite island that could seat a dozen people, with professional-grade appliances that Mom loves to use. Her collection of copper cookware hangs from wrought iron hooks, polished to a warm glow that reflects the pendant lights overhead.
The dining room flows right into it, anchored by the oak table that's hosted every important conversation this family's ever had—the kind of furniture that gets passed down because it's too well-made to ever wear out. Beyond that, the family room spreads wide around a stone fireplace built from river rock, with leather furniture positioned to catch both the warmth of the fire and the view of the mountains.
"Hey," Mom offers me a quick nod from the table, her laptop open and papers scattered around her. Grandpa's in his spot by the fireplace, reading glasses perched on his nose as he studies something that's got his jaw working.
"Beef prices are holding steady," Mom says without looking up from her screen. "Finally, some good news in this mess."
"For now," Grandpa grunts, setting down whatever he was reading. "Markets can turn faster than a green horse in a thunderstorm."
I'm about to ask what they're working on when the sound of tires on gravel fills the air. Not the familiar rumble of a ranch truck or the drone of a feed delivery—this is something else entirely. Something that doesn't belong on our land.