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He poked a finger into Wyatt’s chest, not liking the way Wyatt’s nostrils flared at that simple touch. “Listen, I don’t know what part of last night’s story was true, and I don’t know what bullshit you spun to Brand today, but let’s be clear here. You fuck him over, or you fuck over this ranch? I’ll take care of it.”
For a fraction of time, Wyatt’s bravado cracked and a flash of vulnerability peeked through. It was gone in a blink, though, and Jackson had probably imagined it. “Loud and clear, boss,” Wyatt said. “I’m not here to fuck anyone over, just to work. I wasn’t lying when I said I was out here looking for work.”
“You just forgot to mention you knew about this ranch.” Jackson led Juno to her stall and showed Wyatt how to undo the halter now that she was safely put away. “There. Hang this up and we’re done in here for now. Go find Hugo and leave me alone.”
“You really sure that’s what you want? Me to leave you alone?”
“Fuck yes, it is. I don’t make friends with liars.”
“I’m not a liar. I may have exaggerated a few bits of truth, but I didn’t lie. Let me buy you a drink later and explain.”
“You’re underage. No thanks.” Jackson stormed down the barn to the break room, Dog at his heels like she always was. He finished the last of his soda from lunch in three long gulps, not caring it was flat and cold enough to threaten a headache. Thankfully, Wyatt didn’t follow him.
The little jerk was under his skin in less than twenty-four hours, and now he was going to work here. Jackson needed to get a handle on his emotions and his attraction, shove both down as far as they would go, and nail the lid on that shit. Yes, a part of him was curious why Wyatt had both lied about his name and “exaggerated” some of what he’d said last night, but Jackson was also done being other people’s fool. The plain fact was Wyatt had lied to him, and he really should go straight to Brand with what he knew.
A truck engine roared outside. Jackson went to the break room’s small window that looked out over the main yard. Brand was back, and he parked in his usual spot by the bunkhouse. Now was Jackson’s chance. Take Brand into his office, admit to meeting “Wilson” last night at Blue Tavern, and blow up all of Wyatt’s lies.
But Wyatt could have said something the moment he first saw Jackson, and he hadn’t. Maybe Wyatt had been saving his own ass, even though Jackson couldn’t see an angle for the kid. Wyatt could have told Hugo that Jackson picked him up, tried to seduce him, any number of things to paint himself as some sort of young victim. Not that Hugo would have believed such a thing, and even if he had, Brand wouldn’t. Wyatt had kept his trap shut, though, and now Jackson really wanted to know why.
What was Wyatt’s angle here? What did he hope to achieve? How much of what he’d said last night about being a runaway and trying to find himself had been true? Wyatt seemed willing to keep his mouth shut for now and play the role of the cowboy wannabe. And for the moment? Jackson was willing to keep his own mouth shut and play the familiar role of the silent, stoic cowboy who let nothing faze him.
He’d bide his time, because sooner or later Wyatt would fuck up. He’d do something, say something, let something slip, and Jackson would be there to pounce. Even if he didn’t know what Wyatt’s end game truly was here, Jackson’s first loyalty was to the Woods family. He wouldn’t let anyone fuck them over.
Period.
Chapter Five
Wyatt didn’t take Jackson’s abrupt dismissal personally. He more than deserved it after lying to Jackson last night about his name and his actual destination today. Although he technically hadn’t lied about Woods Ranch being his destination, he’d just waffled on his response to where he was going and what kind of work he was looking for. Brand hadn’t actually called him back to schedule the interview until this morning.
The timing had been stupidly perfect and further proof to Wyatt that packing up his life and coming here had been the right decision, impulsive as it was. If Brand had never called him back for an interview, he’d still planned to hang around Weston and learn what he could about Maybe Daddy. The fact that he’d been hired and Brand was going above and beyond to find him a place to stay? Exceeded expectations.
And was a little confusing. The guy was being extra kind for someone his grandparents warned him was a selfish asshole. Maybe twenty years did change people?
He’d find out for himself over the coming weeks. He’d also have a hell of a lot of fun flirting with Jackson, whose entire demeanor over the past hour or so had been a fascinating combination of “I hate you” and “I want to fuck you.” Wyatt was definitely on board with exploring the latter; he just had to get on Jackson’s good side again. Not an easy task when their relationship began with Wyatt being untruthful, but he never backed down from a challenge. His mother hadn’t been the confrontational type, so maybe he got that from his father.
Asking Jackson out for a drink had been impulsive and dumb, but it had definitely gotten a reaction out of the older man. The much older man who lived in a defunct motel and had a dog named Dog. Add in the grumpy cowboy factor, the obvious hotness of the guy, and that scowl? Wyatt was obsessed. Ob. Sessed.
An obsession that would have to wait for a little while. After Jackson stormed out of the tack room—his coat hung a bit too low for Wyatt to properly admire his departure—Wyatt slowly made his way up the barn, taking his time peeking in at the horses again. He admired horses for their beauty, power and patience in dealing with their human riders. Maybe he couldn’t mount one by himself yet, but he just needed practice.
And maybe a boost up by the ass from his favorite grumpy cowboy.
An engine outside stole his attention. Wyatt wandered to the mouth of the barn. Brand pulled up in front of the bunkhouse and parked his truck. The big German shepherd (the name started with aBbut Wyatt had forgotten it) loped off the porch and went to meet his master. Hugo came out of the bunkhouse and did the same, greeting Brand with a sway of his hips that might have been a hug or kiss had they been in private. They seemed like an odd pair but also somehow matched.
Hugo said something, looked over at the barn, and beckoned Wyatt forward. He seemed amused by something, while Brand simply stared as Wyatt approached, no hint as to his mood after the run into town.
“I hear you’re gonna need a bit of work,” Brand said. “Kinda sorry I missed seeing you mount a horse like you were belly-flopping into a pool.”
Hugo snorted, then covered his mouth with his hand.
“I need a bit of practice, sir,” Wyatt replied, taking the knock on the chin in the good spirit it was meant. He probably had looked pretty funny sprawled over the saddle like that, legs dangling and ass in the air. In the air and pointed right in Jackson’s direction. With his head facing the other way, Wyatt had no idea if Jackson had taken a moment to admire the goods, but he hoped he had.
“It’s a learned skill for a lotta folks,” Brand said. “Like anything else, some take to it fast and others need a little practice. But that’s something we can worry about tomorrow. For now, let’s get you settled in your new digs in town.”
“My—where in town?”
“I both called in a favor and am doing a friend a favor. There’s a real nice lady named Ramie Edwards who lives here in Weston. She bartends at the Roost and owns a little house her great-aunt left her a few years ago. But it’s an old house and that winter storm we had come through last week did some roof damage, and the repairs are gonna cost her a pretty penny. She mentioned the other day she might take on a roommate for the extra cash to fix the roof, so I talked to her about you.”
Wyatt started at Brand. A place in Weston, close to the ranch was ideal, obviously, but it sounded like this Ramie lady was also a friend of Brand’s. Lucking into living with someone who knew the guy was almost too good to be true. “That sounds amazing. I’m pretty tidy and don’t mind doing my share of chores and such.”
