Page 36 of Saltwater Cowboy

I turned left through a white fence and onto a gravel road, the tires kicking up a thick plume of dust that blurred the view ahead.

Are you sure this is the right way?”

“Sure is! Pull right over there.” Wren pointed confidently to the right.

I eased the car into park, slid my sunglasses over my eyes, and stepped out.

“You’re early!” The deep southern drawl carried across the dust-clouded driveway.

“Uncle Wellsy!”

Wren launched herself into his arms with a hug I don’t even get—and she adores me.

I strolled toward them, taking in the way she clung to him, her tiny arms wrapped tight around his neck.

“Happy W Squared Day!”

“Happy W Squared Day, Wrenny.”

That voice. It was unsettlingly familiar.

I pushed my sunglasses up onto my head. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s W Squared Day?”

Wren let go and turned toward me, ready to explain. But my attention was locked on the man standing in front of me.

I froze. No way.

“Orange Skittles?”

He smirked. “Hey, Sunshine.”

The nickname sent a jolt through me. My stomach tightened as I took him in—towering well over six feet, his presence making my five-seven frame feel downright petite. Sharp angles cut across his face, a striking mix of rugged and refined, his jaw shadowed by a beard. But it was his eyes that held me in place—piercing green, like shattered emeralds that saw straight through me. Ink covered both his arms, intricate tattoos shifting as he tipped his cowboy hat.

“Wells Calloway.” He extended a hand. “Nice to meet ya.”

I felt my exterior go frosty. “Rose Solace.”

The irritating man from the plane—the one who spent hours getting under my skin—was Uncle Wells?

“You look like you’ve seen the sun a bit since you got here.” He winked.

He fucking winked.

“Maybe I have,” I said coolly.

“Still full of sunshine, I see.”

I turned on my heel. “I’m heading home.”

“You should help feed the goats!” Wren piped up.

I crouched to her level. “I’m sure you have a fun day planned, but I’ve got things to do.”

“Like what?” Wells asked, all smooth confidence.

I shot him a look. “None of your business.”

The irritation from the plane hadn’t faded—not one bit.