Roped Tight (Ryker Ranch #4) - Kim Loraine Page 0,52
a few years?”
“Cut the bull. You’re not writing a story on Sam.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I am. First amendment, pal. Look it up.”
“It’s a violation of his privacy.”
“Look around you, Tucker. This ranch stopped being private the instant they sold out to the network. I’m surprised he hasn’t been outed before this.”
“You disrespectful little shit.”
On instinct, I made a grab for his phone, but he managed to dodge me. Then the fucker threw a sucker punch and hit me right in the jaw. That hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, if I was being honest. It’d been a long time since I’d been in a fight. Well, nothing like being back in the saddle.
I ran for him, shoving my shoulder into his gut until he lost his footing and fell, phone and all, straight into a dirty trough filled with water.
“Stay away from him, you hear me?”
The click of a camera shutter followed by murmured voices made my stomach churn. What the hell had I just done?
Sam
What was wrong with me? Tucker just told me he loved me, and I walked away from him? God, maybe I really was broken.
“Hey, Sam, wait up!” Tristan bounded toward me like an overeager puppy with baby George strapped to his chest in some kind of torture device.
“What the hell do you have my nephew trapped in?”
He looked down at the baby, sound asleep and relaxed. “He likes it. It’s a carrier. Hazel says it’s best to keep them close while they’re little. It soothes or some shit.”
“What’d you need?” I reached out and stroked my fingers over the baby’s feather-soft hair.
“Hazel and me, well, we wanted to invite you and Tuck over for supper at our place.”
“When?”
“Tonight. If that’s good for you.”
He looked so hopeful, but Tucker and I had a serious conversation to have before we did anything else. “Not tonight. We’ve got plans.”
“Oh.” He frowned. “Everything okay?”
I shook my head. “No, but it will be.”
“I don’t mean with you. Looks like Tucker and that dimple-chinned doofus are about to throw down.”
My heart lurched. “What?” I spun around to follow his gaze and saw Tucker holding Greg by the collar, angry words I couldn’t understand filling the air. “Jesus, Tuck. What are you doin’?”
The camera crew was right fucking there, of course. I couldn’t even push past them as Tucker shoved Greg backward and the man fell right into a watering trough.
Tucker shoved through the crew and stormed away from me, his hands balled into fists, jaw set.
“Tuck, what’s going on?”
“Nothing now.”
“We need to talk about this. You can’t just assault the contestants.”
I grabbed his shoulder, but he jerked out of my hold. “Don’t fucking talk to me right now, Sam. I need some time to cool off.”
He left with anger rolling off him in waves. Was he really that mad about my response to his admission? I couldn’t believe it. There was a conversation we needed to have, sure, but there wasn’t any reason for him to be so pissed he assaulted people.
His old beat-up truck drove away, and part of me worried I wouldn’t see him again. But he said he needed to cool off. That meant space. I could do that for him.
A few hours later, though, I sat at the kitchen table helping Mama with the latest puzzle she was working on, this one nothing but blue sky and hard as hell. The back door opened, and my brother Clint walked into the kitchen.
“Tucker just quit. He won’t talk about it, but I think it’s got something to do with what happened between him and Greg. That fucker.”
“Clinton,” Mama admonished.
“Sorry, Mama.” Clint didn’t look away from me, though.
“He quit?” My stomach dropped. “He can’t quit. He belongs here. With us.”
“I know.”
“What did he say? What reason?”
Clint shook his head. “Wouldn’t give much. Wouldn’t take no for an answer either.”
“Course he wouldn’t, stubborn ass.”
“Samuel.” It was like a reflex with Mama. You swore around her, she’d scold you, no matter that the love of your goddamned life was running away.
“Sorry, Mama.”
“What’s going on with Greg?” I asked.
Clint sighed. “Well, as it turns out, he’s an undercover reporter doing a piece on how fake Ryker Ranch really is. He was trying to come up with some dirt that would show we’re not all we claim to be. Tuck and him had themselves an altercation over that.”
“Is Greg pressing charges?”
He shook his head. “Not unless he wants to be charged with fraud by the network.”
“Can they do that?”
“They sure threatened to. I don’t know