I glance down at him. “Yeah?”
“Your girl’s here.”
I look over the gate.
Macey’s leaning over the top rail of the fence. Her dark hair is loose and flowing around her flushed face. Her whiskey-colored eyes are focused on me, and I can just make out the way her pink lips are half-parted in anticipation.
She’s so beautiful my chest aches.
“She’s not mine,” I say automatically.
“Maybe not, but she’s only got eyes for you,” Luke says from my other side.
I don’t tell him how that fact changes nothing between us.
Macey Henwood isn’t mine. She’s a wild mare who doesn’t belong to anyone.
But right now, I’ve got her full attention. So…I’m going to make sure I show her one hell of a ride.
3
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.
