Her Protective Cowboy (Fit Mountain Cowboys #1)

3. Wyatt

Chapter Three

WYATT

Melody sits at the kitchen table across from me, her fingers twisting at the fabric of her dress. Finally, she meets my gaze. "I left my fiancé at the altar."

"He cheat on you or something?"

She shakes her head. "No. It was an arranged marriage."

My eyebrows shoot up. "People still do that?"

"My parents own a luxury hotel chain on the east coast. Bradley's family own a competing chain. Business hasn't been great for either of them these days, so our parents cooked up this merger disguised as a marriage. Combining the Sinclair and Worthington empires through us." Melody sighs. "I went along with it because I thought it was my duty. And part of me hoped that love would come later, even if the marriage was arranged. Bradley seemed charming at first, like we could at least be partners."

She looks down at her hands. "But then, the closer we got to the wedding, things started to change."

Curiosity gets the better of me. "Change how?"

She bites her lip, blinking back tears. “He became controlling. Possessive. Started making all these demands about how I should look, what I should wear. He even chose my wedding dress.” A tear escapes and rolls down her cheek. “I felt like I was suffocating. Like I was losing myself.”

I study Melody, imagining the pressure she must have felt. To have your whole life mapped out, your future bartered away for business dealings. No wonder she ran.

“The worst part was this morning,” Melody continues. “I overheard Bradley and his best man in the hall talking about me. They didn’t know I was there.”

My gut twists. “What did he say?”

Her eyes well with tears. “He said he’d have to hold his nose on our wedding night. He said once we were married, he’d make sure I lost weight, one way or another.”

Anger surges through me.What the fuck kind of grown man complains about a woman’s curves? I can’t stop myself from saying, “He’s an idiot, baby. You’re fucking gorgeous. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

Her eyes widen and a faint blush colors her cheeks. Suddenly, the air around us feels charged.

Melody continues. “So I ran. Left the chapel and hailed a cab as far as I could. Before my phone died, I called my Aunt Margaret, who lives in Cheyenne. I asked if I could stay with her. But she’s out of town and won’t be back until Monday.”

“Is that why you stole my truck? So you could make it to your aunt’s place?”

She shakes her head. “I got a text from Bradley when my phone turned on in the gift shop.”

I frown. “What kind of text?”

“A threatening one. He said he was going to find me. Make me pay for all the embarrassment I caused him.” Her voice cracks as she wipes a tear from her cheek. “And I know the rest of my family won’t help me or protect me.”

The anger in me ratchets up another notch. “I’ll protect you. You can stay here as long as you need.”

My eyes drift over Melody as she polishes off the last bite of her food. The way her dress stretches across her chest with each breath is damn distracting. I force my gaze back to her face, but that’s no help. Her full, pink lips glisten as her tongue darts out to catch a crumb.

Jesus.

I shift in my seat to try and adjust my jeans without drawing attention to my growing hard-on. Then I clear my throat. “So this aunt you mentioned, the one in Wyoming. You two close?”

Melody’s whole face lights up, making her even more beautiful, if that’s possible. “Aunt Margaret’s the best. She’s more like a mom to me than my actual mother.”

“Why’s that?”

“She actually cares about my happiness. Unlike my parents.” Melody rolls her eyes. “Margaret left the whole high society scene years ago. Bought a cute little B&B in Cheyenne. She’s picking me up on Monday.”

“And then what? You gonna hide out there forever?”

“No. Just until I figure out my next move.” She starts shredding her napkin. “All I know is I’m done letting other people control my life. From now on, I’m doing what’s best for me.”

I nod slowly. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out, city girl.”

Even as the words leave my mouth, a selfish part of me wants to convince her to stay. Here. With me. But it isn’t right. Melody needs to forge her own path, far away from meddling parents and asshole ex-fiancés. I can’t stand in the way of that.

No matter how much I might want to.

I stand up from the table, needing to put some distance between us before I do something stupid.

Like pull her into my arms and beg her not to go.

“C’mon, let’s get you settled in the guest room.”

Melody rises and trails behind me, close enough that I swear I can feel the heat of her. I lead her down the hall, fighting the urge to reach back and take her hand in mine.

When we reach the guest room, I push open the door and wave her inside. “It’s not much. But the bed’s comfortable. You should be able to get a decent night’s sleep.”

She steps in, her eyes widening as she takes in the space. “Wyatt, this is lovely. Thank you.”

I rub the back of my neck, unused to the praise. “Bathroom’s just across the hall. Holler if you need anything.”

Melody turns to face me, her expression unreadable. A heartbeat passes. Two. That electric feeling is back again, like the moment before a summer storm breaks.

I drag my gaze away from her mouth. “Do you want me to go outside to the truck and get your duffle bag?”

She bites her bottom lip as she looks out the window. “Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?”

“Nah. Now that the weather has cleared up it shouldn’t take me too long to head down there and back.”

Melody gives me a grateful smile. “Well in that case, yeah. If you could grab my duffel bag that would be great.”

I nod, head back out to the truck, and grab her pink duffle bag from the passenger seat.

When I return to the guest room, Melody is exactly where I left her—perched on the edge of the bed, looking a little lost.

I hold out the duffel bag, and our fingers brush as she takes them. Sparks shoot up my arm at the contact.

“I really appreciate this, Wyatt.” Melody’s voice is soft, sincere. “You’re being so kind to me, considering...”

I smirk at her. “Considering you stole my truck?”

She flushes and ducks her head. “Yeah. Considering that.”

I chuckle. “Water under the bridge, sweetheart. You just get some rest.”

“I will. Goodnight, Wyatt.”

“Night, Melody.”

I force myself to walk out and shut the door behind me with a quiet click. Leaning my forehead against the wood, I exhale slowly.

Get her out of your system, cowboy, I scold myself. She’ll be gone before you know it.

Shaking my head, I head for the living room, where I find my brother Brody lounging on the couch. He takes one look at my face and smirks.

“Well, well. Never thought I’d see the day.” Brody chuckles, putting his boots up on the coffee table.

“What day?”

“The day Wyatt Clayton brings a woman home to the main house.”

I scowl at him. “Fuck off.”

“So, what’s the story with the wedding dress?”

I give him the cliff-notes version—the arranged marriage, her leaving her fiancé at the alter, her stealing my truck to try and get away.

Brody lets out a low whistle. “Damn. Girl’s got guts, I’ll give her that.” He cocks his head. “She staying long?”

“Just till Monday. Her aunt’s coming to get her.”

“Mm.” Brody gives me a knowing look. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course I’m okay with that.” I glare at him. “I just met her.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying. I know that look in your eye, brother. You’ve got it bad.”

I don’t bother denying it. Brody knows me too well. The truth is, the thought of Melody leaving already has my gut twisting. I can’t explain this fierce protectiveness, this desire. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

And that scares the hell out of me.

Because come Monday, Melody Sinclair is going to walk out of my life. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

Movement catches my eye, and I glance up to see Melody hovering in the doorway, wearing nothing but my old flannel shirt.

It hangs to her mid-thigh, revealing miles of smooth, shapely legs. My breath snags in my throat.

Fuck.

The sight of her in my clothes does something to me. Knowing she’s got nothing on underneath but bare skin. I shift on the couch, my jeans suddenly way too tight.

“Um, sorry to interrupt...” Melody’s cheeks are deliciously flushed, like she’s embarrassed to be standing there half-dressed. “I was just wondering where I could find some extra blankets?”

As I stare at her, my mind goes completely blank.

A sliver of collarbone peeks out from the collar of the shirt, smooth and inviting. I want to put my mouth there. Trail my lips down lower to where the fabric gapes slightly between her breasts...

“Wyatt.” Brody’s amused voice snaps me out of it.

“Huh?”

“The lady asked you a question.”

Right. Blankets. I clear my throat, trying to remember how to form words.

“Uh, yeah. Hall closet, top shelf.” My voice sounds like gravel. I can’t tear my eyes away from her.

“Thanks.” Melody gives me a shy smile. Then she turns and pads out of the room, hips swaying slightly.

I watch her go, fighting the urge to follow. To back her up against the wall and let my hands explore all those lush curves...

Brody’s chuckling and shaking his head. “You are so screwed, man.”

He’s not wrong. Melody Sinclair is going to be the death of me. And the worst part? I’m pretty sure I’ll enjoy every second of it.