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Forbidden Cowboy (Rocky Ridge Creek #1) Chapter Five 26%
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Chapter Five

LEVI

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“HEARD THE TOWN meeting yesterday was a shit show.” My brother Wheeler slams shut the driver’s door of the pickup. He circles to meet me at the back.

I tear off the red flag stapled to the end of a load of wood I ordered from the mill. He offered to pick it up since he’d been heading into town this morning, and the extra time allowed me to remove a few sections of the rotting wood along the west fence line—the fence line that touches the Fox property.

Was I hoping to catch a glimpse of Hope lounging at her favorite spot?

Maybe. Yeah. Definitely.

“Every town meeting is a shit show.” I don’t dare admit it’s the best damn meeting I’ve ever attended. I’m riding on sunshine today. But I need a hot second to figure out how I’m going to break it to my family that I’m going to marry a Fox with or without their support.

“Especially when a Wilde and a Fox are patched together.” He slaps my bare shoulder with a chuckle. I shed my shirt hours ago. The heat would loosen the bristles on a wild hog, even in the early morning.

It burns my insides at the thought of my family, the people who have supported me my whole life and who I have supported, disapproving of my decision to marry Hope. But the feud has never been taken lightly. Wildes and Foxes aren’t the only enemies. It runs deep through the town like poison creeping through veins. Kids are raised to pick a specific side. No one questions. No one fights. Friendships and marriages are based on the old feud.

“I heard you ducked out early.” My brother slides a natural cedar log from the truck bed. “And Hope Fox practically chased after you.”

I grunt. “Back fence talk never fails.”

“Yes, the gossip mill is wild this morning.” He nudges my side with a chuckle at what he thinks is clever. “I stopped at Cowboy Cafe, and it was kissing booth this and kissing booth that. Levi this and Hope that.”

I thought about messaging Hope before the sun rose and after the sun rose—and every second between. I didn’t get a wink of sleep after I walked her back to her truck and kissed her goodnight.

The kissing booth is an excellent project to hide behind until we devise a mutual plan to tell our folks. I have to think about her too. Her family could disown her. Hell, so could mine. But I’m not spending the rest of my life without the woman I’ve always loved by my side. I’m ready for a big, hoedown wedding with many babies to follow. Fighting, laughing, making love, and almost being struck by lightning opened my eyes.

“But I guess you two must’ve hashed out a new plan because I saw her and Wyatt looking pretty chummy at the lumberyard talking specs for the new booth.”

“What?” The log slips off my shoulder and slams onto the ground.

Wheeler doesn’t notice. He’s tugging the next log out of the bed of the truck. “At least Hart can stop growling around about a Wilde and a Fox working together.” When he approaches, he gives a sideways glance at the log at my feet. “What’s up with you?”

“You’re missing half my damn order is what’s up with me.”

He drops the log in the pile and slaps his hands together. “There’s not a sliver missing out of this order. I personally double-checked it.”

“This is what I get for not doing it myself.”

Wheeler folds his arms over his chest. “There’s grumpy Levi. I wondered where he was hiding this morning. You’ve been all sunshine and rainbows. Figured you got laid last night.”

I pick up my pace unloading the rest of the truck.

What the hell is Hope doing with Wyatt?

After last night I thought I’d made myself damn clear we’d be building the kissing booth together.

“I was going to ask who the lucky lady was, but I have a feeling I know exactly who she was.” He grabs the next log in his leisurely chilled speed.

“You don’t know a damn thing,” I growl.

“Funny story.”

“I’m not in the mood.” I toss the next log.

“When we were young, Ma would tell us to stick close to home. Never head west. Never cross the west fence line.” He leans on the area of the fence I haven’t ripped down yet, crosses his ankles, and lowers his hat to shade the sun. “But we’d sneak away anyway.”

“Should I start a campfire and get some marshmallows to roast for your tale?” I mutter.

The wood pile is decreasing without my brother’s help.

“See that brush right over there.” My dumbass, nosey brother points at a patch of trees that begin on the Wilde side and end a few miles up the Fox side. “One day, we chased our big brother into that brush.”

I know where he’s headed with his story. The brush was the secret entrance Hope and I shared.

“Into the brush and over the fence. I mean, it was a rush to break the rules.” Wheeler tells stories like he lives in an irritating cool, calm, and collected manner that stretches out for what feels like days. “And to see our big brother break the rules.” He whistles. “What a rush. But then we saw why, and she was pretty as a spotted horse in a daisy pasture.”

My hands pause around the last log. The wood bites my flesh. “Wheeler—”

“I’m on your side.”

I tilt my head to send him a forewarning glare. He meets me with a sincere smile.

“The feud is stupid. Overkill. I don’t care if Pa and Mr. Fox beef it out at every town rodeo. I’m on your side. Beck’s on your side.”

I can’t control the dumbfounded look I know is plastered over my face. I never expected any of my brothers to jump on board.

“In all honesty, the way you hurt Hope, if I’d been older and bigger, I would’ve kicked your ass.”

“I stayed away to protect her.”

“Look how that turned out. You went and married the first girl to bat her lashes at you. And we all knew she was in it for the money.”

I’d been too blinded, trying to run away from my feelings for Hope to notice.

“A little powder, a little paint, makes a girl look what she ain’t.” My brother’s full of useless quotes today. He sounds like grumpy Wayne.

“I’m not making that mistake twice.”

Wheeler pushes off the fence and struts over to hit my shoulder. “Attaboy! Just tell me what you need from us.”

“Right now. Silence. We do this on Hope’s terms.”

“I totally understand.” He makes a zipping motion over his closed mouth. “My lips are sealed.”

“I’m going to the lumberyard.”

“Go get your girl.”

I toss the last cedar log in the pile and swap transportation modes with my brother. He climbs on my horse's back, and Coral and I get behind the truck's wheel.

I throw the truck into gear when I see movement by the brush. My heart sparks, expecting to see Hope.

My granddad strolls out. I swear he’s wearing yesterday’s overalls and a blue button-front shirt.

I drive alongside him, one hand on the wheel, the other leaning out the rolled-down window. I tap my hand on the side of the truck. “Granddad, what are you doing out here?”

He runs a hand through his unkempt, partly slicked up, and brushed back thick grey waves of hair. “Getting my morning exercise.”

“You’re awfully far away from the house.”

“So are you.”

“I’m fixing the fence.” I hitch a thumb to the mess behind me.

“Once I find Betty, I’m heading to the main house for your mother’s blueberry flapjacks.” Betty is the all-terrain vehicle he named after my grandmother when she passed. He rides Betty all over the property but doesn’t generally misplace her.

“You lost Betty?”

“I just can’t seem to remember where I parked her.”

The old man isn’t forgetful. He’s quick as a whip. He can be a growly son of a bitch like my pa and a softie like my ma.

“Jump in, and I’ll drop you off at the house.”

He climbs in the passenger seat, a wrinkled mess like he’s been out all day. “You’re not staying for breakfast?”

Not when my girl is out with another man. “Granddad, it’s lunchtime.”

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