Page 33 of Branded Betrayal

“Savvie Carlson! I’ll be damned. Never thought I’d see you in a place like this.”

Savannah’s face lights up. Anger rips a hole in my heart when she pulls him in for an unnecessarily long hug. “Wyatt! I heard you’ve been tearing it up on the rodeo circuit.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugs, a playful grin lifting his lips. “I guess I’m not cut out to be a powerhouse-boardroom type like you.”

They talk for a little while longer. It’s easy. Comfortable. And I fucking hate how comfortable my younger brother looks.

I love Wyatt. I do. But he’d better get his fucking paws off her before I go over there and cut the fuckers off.

He doesn’t know about what happened between me and Savvie. So there’s nothing stopping him from making a move now. Not even Tyler, who he’s glanced over at exactly once. Wyatt’s never been one to worry about competition. He’s more of a “steal the show” kinda guy. And Tyler doesn’t look like he has the balls to send Wyatt packing.

Tyler won’t have a lick of a chance if Wyatt wants Savannah’s attention.

I stare so hard that when she looks over at me, I jump. Caught.

Then, just to twist the knife, she loops her arm through Wyatt’s and leans in close to say something to him. A hearty laugh follows, and Wyatt hugs her close.

Motherfucker.

Anger claws at my insides at the sight of him touching her.

The screen door slams behind me. I slant a glance at the group of ranch hands who just walked in. I recognize a couple of them from Billings. My skin crawls as one of them points to Savannah and walks over to her, edging past Wyatt. Tyler stays close to her. At least he’s not a total pussy.

Glenn Baker. Shit, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him. Not long enough, though.

Nash’s words rattle my brain.

“If they see your face . . . if they know you’re back . . .”

“City girl slummin’ it with the townies, huh?” Glenn leans in, drapes an arm around her shoulders, and flashes a smile full of all the things that make my gut clench. “Maybe you need a real man to show you around.”

“Watch yourself, Glenn,” Wyatt says. “She ain’t looking.”

“Well, how do ya know that, Hartman?” Glenn says with an exaggerated drawl. “Maybe she likes a man who knows how to use his hands for a livin’.”

“Why don’t you leave the lady alone?” Tyler says. It’s almost worse that he said anything at all. Glenn could crush him like a bug under that big-ass boot of his. Tyler doesn’t back down, though. Maybe Clark Kent’s gonna disappear into the back and show up in his cape and tights.

Glenn levels him with a glare, and the other guys in his crew circle around him, beers in hand.

Savannah doesn’t flinch. She flings Glenn’s arm off her. “I don’t appreciate being touched. And I really don’t care what you do with those hands. Just keep them away from me.”

“Aw, come on, darlin’,” one of the other guys says, edging around Wyatt. “He just wants to have a little fun. We all do.”

“She ain’t interested,” Wyatt says through clenched teeth.

“I think you need to focus more on ridin’ your bull than with who’s ridin’ my cock, lil boy,” Glenn growls.

A thick haze of red clouds my vision. I push through clusters of people and shove my hands against Glenn’s chest. He doesn’t see me coming and stumbles back into the pool table.

“Back the fuck off,” I say, pushing myself against him so he’s stuck with his ass against the table.

“Hey, Hartman,” Glenn says. “Heard you were back. You always thought you were such hot shit. You tryin’ to play hero back home now too?”

“I’m just telling you to leave her alone.” My voice is low. Menacing. But he doesn’t seem to give a shit. And that’s gonna be very painful for him.

“And I’m tellin’ you to go fuck yourself,” Glenn says, shoving his hands against my chest. But my feet stay rooted.

I grab him by the wrist and bend it back so far, it’s damn near ready to snap. Chairs scrape against the floor, and people fall silent around us.