Roped Tight (Ryker Ranch #4) - Kim Loraine Page 0,50

begging for attention. “It will.”

An hour later, the two of us sat on my couch, empty plates on the coffee table, a rerun on TV. I couldn’t help but let myself wonder if this was what it could be like every day. If a real future with Sam was possible.

“You think you’re ever gonna be able to get your guys on a bull?” I asked as a commercial for Saddle Up flashed on the screen.

“Fuck no.”

“What are we gonna do for the rodeo in two weeks?”

“Some of them have shown potential roping skills.”

I laughed. “Yeah, as long as the cows are slow.”

“Some of my buddies from the circuit are coming in to do some real bull riding so we can give the audience a show. A few local ranchers are sending their guys in too. We should have some real cowboys to pick up the slack for the city slickers.”

“You gonna ride?” My chest tightened at the thought. We hadn’t really gotten into the dirty details about why he retired, but I knew enough. It hadn’t been just because of Mama’s heart attack.

“Nah. Those days are over.” He looked me over. “You roping?”

I grinned. “You wanna watch? Does it turn you on to see me in action?”

“It turns me on to see you doing pretty much anything.”

Leaning into him, I kissed his full lips and savored the taste of sugar that lingered on them after our breakfast. Yeah, I could spend every single day with him like this, and it would never get old.

I just hoped like hell he felt the same.

17

Tucker

Greg, that handsome smarmy bastard, was moving in on my man. He didn’t know I could see the two of them, but he was way too close to Sam for my liking as they chatted after another long day of filming. Today it had been a lot of roping and a little of the day to day chores like the ever-popular mucking out stalls. Apparently, fans of the show thought it was highly entertaining to watch cowboys shovel shit.

Greg said something that made Sam laugh. A real laugh, too, not one of those forced fake ones he used for the producers. I didn’t like that. Not one single bit.

“Jealousy looks good on you, Tucker,” Mama said, her hand resting on my forearm. “You’ve got nothin’ to worry about. Sam’s head over heels for you, darlin’.”

That made my chest tight. Head over heels? I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “Who says I’m worried?”

“The look on your face and the white-knuckled grip you’ve got on that gate.”

Glancing down, I saw exactly what she was talking about. My fingers had turned white from the force of my hold on the metal bar of the gate that opened into the arena. “I don’t trust that guy.”

“Why, because he recognizes a handsome man when he sees him?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but maybe she had a point. Sam was handsome. There wasn’t any arguing that fact. I just needed more from him to feel like there wasn’t any need to be jealous.

“I’d do anything for this family,” I said, not answering her question.

“We know you would.”

“And that means doing what’s best for Sammy too.”

“You think keeping him at a distance is best for him? He was crushed when you ended things the first time, Tuck. We all saw it, but most of us didn’t know what was going on.”

“Most of you?”

“I always know everything. You’ve been here long enough to understand the way things work around here.”

Laughing, I shook my head. “You’re right. I just…I didn’t want to do anything to fu—“ I stopped myself before Mama slapped me upside the head. “Screw up my job here or damage Sam’s relationship with George.”

“What are you talking about?”

“No relationships with the ranch hands. It’s an unnecessary complication.”

She let out a heavy sigh. “George and his rules. I guarantee you, if he knew how in love Sam was with you, he wouldn’t have batted an eye.”

There I went with the death grip on the gate again. But it was either that or cry in front of the only mom I’ve had in twenty years. This family was all I had. What if I fucked it all up?

“Mama,” I started, turning toward her. “What if I mess up?”

She brought her palm up to rest on my cheek. “Oh, honey, you will.”

A shocked laugh was my only response, but then she continued. “We all do. All the time. It’s not about the mess you make.