Page 80 of Wrangled Up

Christian released him and pointed. “See that?”

Tucker moved closer to the spot where a deep rivet had been cut into the ground. He crouched and plowed his fingers through the patch. “What do you think caused that?”

Christian drew near, and when he spotted the rough cuts, he knew what they were up against.

That bloodbath.

“I’ve been shoveling dirt for many years. I’d say that was made by a man.”

Tucker swore. He launched to his feet so fast, Christian rocked back on his heels. “You sayin’ someone trespassed on my land and dug up this patch? A piece of ground the horsestraverse all the time to get to the water trough?”

“Looks like it.” It was cut in such a way that a horse’s leg would twist. Whoever had dug this knew what they were doing.

“Fuck me,” Tucker ground out. He doffed his hat and raked his fingers over his shorter hair. The outline of his skull was more apparent now after his haircut, but Christian wished he’d had a chance to feel those longer strands under his hands before he’d cut it.

He shook himself. “What do we do now?”

“Not you. Me.” Tucker whirled on a heel and headed back to the truck.

“Wait, man. You aren’t cutting me out of this. If there’s a fight, I’m damn well going to stand at your side.”

Tucker slowed. Pivoted to face him. Was he remembering his fistfight at The Hellion? He still bore the cut and Christian’s eye was at its peak of bruised splendor, a myriad of black, blue and green.

“We stand together,” Christian said.

Tucker waited for him to catch up, then he hooked Christian around the nape the same way he’d done minutes before. The fever in hiseyes ignited a fire in Christian. Lust surged to the surface, prickling on his skin like the faint sheen of perspiration.

“I hope you’re up for a vigilante watch tonight.” Tucker stared at his mouth until Christian thought he’d lose his fucking mind.

He gripped his shoulder and pulled Tucker more tightly against him. Right now he could think of nothing better than sitting in a field with Tucker, watching for intruders. Except maybe bringing Claire along.

“I’m there,” Christian said.

Tucker skimmed his mouth over Christian’s. The rough mash of lips and tangle of tongues ended too damn quickly. He released him and started toward the truck—all ranch business again. Over his shoulder he tossed, “‘Kay then. Bring the condoms.”

* * * * *

Letty had been feeling overly tired this morning, and it worried the hell out of Claire. Her aunt was no spring chicken, so every cough and flu sent a panic through her.

She slid the old Buick crookedly into a parking spot in front of the drugstore, thoughts of stockpiling cold medicines bright in her mind. Sure, Letty hadn’t so much as wheezed or sniffled, but one couldn’t be too cautious.

At dawn, Claire had found her heavy-eyed aunt at the stove, flipping pancakes, and insisted she return to bed. Then she’d assumed the flipping. Setting thick stacks of cakes in front of her men had given her a warm feeling.

Tucker had dug in with enthusiasm and grunts of appreciation, while Christian wielded his fork more cautiously. He had eaten every bite though.

She climbed out of the car and approached the storefront. At this time of morning, the streets were filled with foot traffic. Tourists and hunters in for the upcoming season and some of the regular townspeople milled the sidewalks.

A young girl with all the curves and swagger of a Wyoming rodeo queen bounced up to the drugstore. There was an awkward moment where they reached the door at the same time.

Claire stepped back, aware of the girl’s polished appearance and expensive outfit. Hergleaming high-end cowgirl boots stretched over golden, tanned calves, making Claire look like she had toothpicks stuffed into boots stolen off a homeless cowboy.

The girl passed in front of her without so much as a smile or thank you that Claire held the door. Perfume-scented air trailed behind.

Claire hung back a second to allow a laughing woman with luxurious dark hair and two rugged cowboys to tumble out of the drugstore. The way they clung so close to each other reminded Claire of what she had with Tucker and Christian. When one cowboy leaned in and planted a smooch on the woman’s cheek, the other said, “Hey, she’s still mine during the day, remember?”

“That deal’s been off for months.”

Shaking her head and smiling, Claire entered the building.

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