Chapter Three
Macey
I lock up the saloon and walk over to the neighboring Wild Ranch.
I don’t see the man I’m looking for until I reach the back pen, the area of the ranch the Wilds set up for rodeo practice.
Logan Wild is on top of a bronc inside the gate.
I step up onto the outside of the fence railing to watch.
His brothers and cousins surround him, but my attention is only on the Wild who’s currently looking right back at me. We lock eyes, and somehow I know this ride’s going to be for me.
Blake opens the gate, and the bronc storms out into the middle of the arena. Logan holds on, and his tanned, roped forearms and biceps bulge with effort.
Watching him stay atop that bronc as it bucks the hell out of him?
Major turn-on.
Because Logan is hot.
Sexy.
Un-look-away-able.
“Whoo-ee!” His cousins and brothers all cheer as he keeps holding on.
Logan Wild is the most determined man I’ve ever met. He doesn’t give up no matter the obstacle.
I bring my hair up off my sweaty neck so I can pull it back into a messy ponytail. We’re in the middle of a typical Texas heatwave. The kind where every part of a person is hot and needy.
Logan drives me wild enough on a normal day. During a heatwave? I’ll be lucky to tear myself away from him afterward.
And right now, he’s only fifteen feet away from me. And everything about Logan riding a bronc makes me want to get close to him.
I swing one of my legs over the top of the fence and sit down. My feet dangle as I watch Logan stay astride that bronc like it’s a docile pony.
Eventually, the bronc tires, and Logan jumps off. His ranch hand grabs the halter and leads the bronc away as Logan takes off his helmet, wiping the sweat off his brow with his forearm. His brothers and cousins surround him with back slaps and words of encouragement. And I can’t keep quiet anymore.
“Nice ride, Wild!” I call out from my perch.
He whips his head around. The moment his gaze finds mine, his face breaks into a slow grin.
And, oh Lord.
My thighs clench involuntarily. My nipples brush uncomfortably against the thin fabric of my bra, proving to me what I’ve always known.
Logan Wild is dangerous.
With any other guy, I don’t lose myself.
But with Logan?
I need our rules.
Logan leaves his family huddle, grabs his cowboy hat off the fencepost, and heads for me. His worn jeans ride low on his hips, his dark green t-shirt is damp with sweat, and I work to slow down my racing heart.
Blake calls out a hello to me, and I wave in the general direction of the Wilds. But my focus never leaves the man prowling toward me.
