Page 5 of Tangled Up With You

I’d gotten more than my fair share of speeding and parking tickets—I was shit at parallel parking—and was busted once or twice for underage drinking. Then there was that one time a few of my friends and I tried to sneak backstage during a Civil Corruption concert and had to be carried out—literally—by burly security guards. We didn’t talk about that particular incident, mainly because it made the tabloids. While I found it hilarious—I even framed the picture they ran with the article of me being carted out over some dude’s shoulder in a fireman’s hold—my folks didnot.

My mom claimed she had to start coloring her hair years ago because I’d driven her so crazy she’d gone gray early. My stepdad was a cop with the local police department, and thanks to my shenanigans, Micah had to deal with his fair share of shit from his partner and other co-workers. Apparently, they had started placing bets on when I’d get into trouble next.

I did my best to tame a bit of that wildness as I got older, but that was easier said than done. It was like trying to breathe when there was no air or trying to stop your heart from beating. It was that side of me that was so drawn to Connor in the first place, even though I knew he was all kinds of trouble.

I tried ignoring him at first, but the man made it way too damn hard. He was alwaysthere. He went out of his way to win me over, and I got swept up in him, falling for all the pretty words and actions. What woman wouldn’t fall for a man who brought her wildflowers he picked himself every day or showed up at her job to sweep her off for a picnic lunch he packed himself? We had inside jokes and shared about our lives. He’d even confessed that he feared the day when he could no longer do what he loved, and what that would mean. How he tied so much of who he was into being a bull rider that he wasn’t sure how to exist outside of it. When he told me he'd never shared those concerns with anyone else, I’d felt honored.

He made me feel like I was important to him, like I was special. Then he made me feel like the world’s biggest fool.

I spent months holding on to my anger with an iron grip so I would never forget. If I didn’t forget I wouldn’t fall for that bullshit the next time. Not that there would everbea next time. As far as Connor Bennet went, I’d learned my lesson and I would not be making the same mistake twice.

I had hoped to never see that asshole’s charming, chiseled, stupidly perfect face ever again. Unfortunately, the bastard was tight with Zach Paulson, the son of the family I worked for andthe soon-to-be husband of one of my closest friends. Escaping him completely wasn’t an option, unless I wanted to quit my job and ghost Rae, two things I would never do. I adored Rae, the former big city celebutant-turned-rancher’s-fiancée. She was one of my favorite people, and had taken to the slower pace of ranching life like she was born for it. She’d traded in her stilettos for boots and her designer dresses for jeans. If you looked at her now, you would never guess she’d once been a part of the LA party scene.

As for my career, working as the hospitality manager for Second Hope Lodge, the rustic yet swanky resort-style hotel that was a part of Safe Haven Ranch, was my dream job. I wasn’t going to let anyone run me out.

Normally, Connor only popped up once in a blue moon whenever a rodeo brought him out this way. He was usually too busy getting his ass thrown off the backs of angry bulls and screwing his way through every buckle bunny on the circuit to make regular trips, but with Zach and Rae’s wedding just around the corner, I was going to be forced to see him sooner than I’d hoped.

I had been trying my best to prepare myself for the inevitable. My plan was to fake it, to smile and laugh and act like I didn’t hate the very ground that asshole walked on. After all, what was a few days of pretending if it meant making sure my friends had the wedding of their dreams?

I could totally do it. And if not, my Plan B was to act like I didn’t recognize him.

There was also the tiny fact that I didn’t want him to know I was still angry and hurt that I woke up to find the man I slept with only hours earlier had taken off in the middle of the night. That kind of burn stayed with a person, singeing their ego until there was little left. It wasn’t just the sting of his rejection, but also the humiliation that came withhowhe left. The man mademe believe there was something big happening between us, then he bounced, leaving behind nothing more than a one-word note that he’d scribbled on the back of a crumpled receipt he had probably found stuffed in his pocket.

Thanks.

That was it.

That was all he’d said.

He’d worked formonthsto get into my pants, practically the entire time he was on the ranch, supposedly resting his injured knee, and when I finally let him take me to bed, thinking all the shit he’d spewed had been genuine, that was all he’d left me with.Thanks.Talk about a slap in the face.

There hadn’t been a single phone call or text. I would have accepted a smoke signal or homing pigeon, for Christ’s sake. But there was nothing. I had been well and truly ghosted.

The thing was, I didn’t start out with any expectations. If he’d told me from the beginning that it was just sex, I would have been fine with that. It wasn’t like I had visions of white picket fences and two point five kids dancing in my head, and the man was the living example of sex in a pair of cowboy boots and faded jeans. When he pulled off that baseball cap he favored and twisted it backward, my stomach never failed to erupt with butterflies. But he pulled out all the stops to make me believe it was so much more than that. The things he said, the things he did...

He made me feel like I was the only woman that existed for him. He not only accepted that wild streak of mine, but he seemed to actually enjoy it—doing what he could to coax it out of me. I’d never felt so wanted, so craved and desired, in all my life, not to mention the sex.

God, the sex.

I wish I could say it was bad, or even just average. I would have gladly settled for the kind of bang that was good enoughto get the job done in the moment but eventually faded from a person’s mind. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been that lucky. That son of a bitchseriouslyknew what he was doing. Not that I should have been surprised, given his track record. Apparently Connor had a reputation throughout the rodeo circuit. He’d been dubbed the playboy bull-riding bachelor. But I let myself forget about the stories I’d heard and the things I’d seen on the internet.

I’d convinced myself that the cockiness and charisma were a part he played for the cameras, that the real man behind the swagger and charm was so much deeper and softer and more caring. I felt like I had been given the gift of seeing therealhim.

I was wrong.

But none of that mattered anymore. What Ithoughtwe had was over. If he hadn’t made that perfectly clear with his scribbledthanks, that lip-lock on camera the other night certainly did it. I was back to living my own life, reminding myself every few hours when he popped into my head against my will, I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him any longer.

Grabbing my phone from where it rested on my desk, I swiped the screen to read the message that had just come through.

Rae:Don’t forget about tonight. Ladies’ night at the Tap Room. And no excuses that you’re too busy!

I let out a low chuckle and shook my head, quickly typing out a response that I hadn’t forgotten and I’d be there.

After all, ladies’ night was just what I needed to get my mind off the man who didn’t deserve a second thought.

Chapter Four

Ivy