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Chapter One
WYATT
“Where the hell is Brody?” Jace grumbles. “These buckle bunnies are gonna lose their minds if we don’t open the store soon.”
I drop a box of cowboy hats onto the counter with a thunk. “Tell ’em to keep their panties on. Sign says we open at nine. It’s not even 8:45 yet.”
My brother snorts. “Have you seen the mob out there? Those women are rabid. They’re about ten seconds away from flipping your truck.”
As if on cue, a commotion erupts outside.
I glance out the gift shop window just in time to see two women wrestling over a cardboard cutout of Brody. They’ve knocked over a metal trash can in their tussle, sending it rolling across the parking lot.
Fuck. I scrub a hand across my jaw. This is about to be a long day.
It's a warm Friday morning at Clayton Ranch. On a normal morning, Jace and I would be meeting with our ranch hands right now, outlining the day's tasks for our sprawling operation. Our family’s Wyoming ranch is the biggest in the county,spanning over ten thousand acres. There’s always work to be done, and as the oldest, I usually take the lead.
But today isn’t a normal day.
Last night, our brother Brody won the national bull riding competition in Vegas. It’s a big deal for him and the ranch. To celebrate, we’re selling championship merch at the ranch gift shop. Plus, Brody will be here to sign autographs and take photos with fans.
I knew the event would be popular. Brody has a huge following on social media. But even I didn’t expect this circus.
The parking lot is packed, and there’s a line of women snaking all the way down to the main road.
Suddenly, Jace appears over my shoulder. He’s got his phone out and is angling it toward the window.
I quirk a brow at him. “The fuck are you doing?”
“Getting a picture of the crowd for Lindsay. She’s going to flip when she sees this line.”
Lindsay is Jace’s best friend. She’s also our ranch’s marketing coordinator. And this entire “pop-up shop,” as she calls it, was her idea. She was supposed to be here this morning too, along with our gift shop manager and a few other employees. But they went out to celebrate Brody’s win last night and apparently got food poisoning.
“Well, tell your girlfriend that we’re running a ranch, not a petting zoo,” I grumble. “We’re not here for these women’s entertainment.”
Jace rolls his eyes. “She’s not my girlfriend. And would you lighten up? Geez. This is good for business.”
I’m about to retort when the back door swings open. Brody strolls in, decked out in faded Wranglers, a white tee that’s practically painted on, and that shiny new championship buckle. He’s grinning like the cat that ate the canary, even though he’s late as hell.
“’Bout time you showed up, asshole,” Jace says. “The buckle bunnies are about to stage a revolt out there.”
“Sorry, lost track of time,” Brody calls over his shoulder as he walks to the coffee maker. “Had an early meeting with my agent.”
Jace snorts. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
Brody ignores the jab and frowns as he looks around the shop. “Where’s Luke?”
“He had a daddy-daughter breakfast at Maisey’s school.”
“Damn. I promised my fans they’d get to see all four Clayton brothers today.”
I groan. “Seriously?”
Brody shakes his head. “Only you would complain about a crowd of beautiful women knocking down your door, Wyatt. For all you know, the woman of your dreams could be standing outside in that crowd.”
“No thanks. You can keep your groupies.”
As soon as I say the words, the crowd outside starts chanting “Bro-dy! Bro-dy! Bro-dy!”
