Michael (Wild Men #8)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Michael

“Rope him, Michael!” my brother, Ayden, calls out from behind the fence.

I swing my rope the way my cowboy cousins taught me, and then I throw.

“Yes!” I raise my hands in the air like I just roped an actual steer and not a dummy mounted to a bale of hay.

Luke gives me a high five before taking his turn.

We’re all drinking beers, all except for Luke.

I realize too late I never should have made a drunken bet with a sober cowboy, especially when I’m a fisherman who knows next to little about roping.

With a lazy confidence I can’t help but admire, Luke saunters into the ring. He coils his rope, builds the loop, and swings it. He glances over at me before saying, “Watch and learn, young grasshopper,” before throwing the rope over the dummy’s head.

Took him a tenth of the time it did me.

“Bloody hell.”

I glare at him as Luke laughs his fucking head off .

“I’ll arrange your pay off right now,” he says as he reaches into his pocket for his cell phone. “You’ll love this woman. She’s great.”

I hate blind dates.

But I lost a bet.

And I always pay up.