Wild Trail (Clean Slate Ranch #1)(10)

It also made him a perfect target for Reyes and Colt, who both followed him out of the guesthouse once they had the new arrivals settled into their rooms. Carrying luggage for the ladies was an old-fashioned thing, but one Arthur insisted on. Bad luck of the draw had left Mack leading Wes Bentley’s group to their room. Bad, because he kind of wanted to haul Wes over his shoulder and steal away with him—which was exactly why Mack wanted to be alone.

They’d touched exactly once, when Wes tripped getting into the wagon like the city slicker he was, and one touch was enough. Mack needed to back the hell off, dip his head in a horse trough and think about someone else. Anyone else. Wes was too much his type, and that would only lead to trouble.

“What’s up, man?” Colt asked once their trio was halfway to the barn. “You tore out of there like your ass was on fire.”

“I’m fine,” Mack snapped. “Got work to do.”

“Work on his manners, probably,” Reyes added. “I saw how you were looking at that Wes character. How rude to him were you upstairs?”

“Wait, what? Who?” Colt circled in front of Mack, the bigger man cutting off his retreat. Built like a stallion and stubborn as one, Colt crossed his arms and pinned Mack in place with an impressive stare. “Talk.”

Mack glared at Reyes for opening his big mouth, then shrugged. “Nothing’s going on. The tall kid with the bright green shirt? He flirted a bit, and Reyes is reading too much into it. Besides, you know the rule. No flings with the guests.”

“That’s not an official rule, you know.”

“It should be.”

Colt flashed him a cocky grin. “Come on, what’s the harm in a little flirting behind closed doors?”

A lot. There was a lot of harm in flirting, because flirting could lead to more, and Mack couldn’t handle that yet. “Because he’s here for a week, and then back off to Portland or Chicago or wherever he’s from that thinks lime green is an acceptable shirt color.”

“The grumpy one does have a point,” Reyes said. “Long distance sucks.”

“Says the guy who never dates,” Colt retorted.

“I’m not dating anyone,” Mack snapped. “Not now, not anytime in the near future.”

Both of his friends quieted down, only for Reyes to break the silence with “It’s been five years. It’s okay to move on.”

Mack grunted, and then groaned when a flash of green caught his peripheral vision. Wes and his quiet friend—Miles?—ambled down the well-trodden path from the guesthouse toward the barn. Miles never seemed to stop pointing his camera at things, but Wes was intently focused on their trio.

Fucking great. I’ve got a stalker.

“Let’s go,” Colt whispered to Reyes.

“Fuck that, I wanna watch this,” Reyes replied.

Mack growled at his friends. Trying to avoid or ignore Wes would only shine more light on the issue, and all he wanted was for the too-cute guy sashaying down the path to keep right on walking and ignore Mack completely. And Mack was more likely to start farting rainbows than for that to happen.

Wes did stop in front of the trio of cowboys, but he actually did ignore Mack completely, his attention on Colt instead. “I saw you in the guesthouse earlier,” Wes said, “but no one introduced us.” A ripple of irritation worked down Mack’s spine.

Colt laid on an easy smile and a thick accent when he said, “Well, now, that’s a damned shame. Name’s Colt Woods.”

“Wes Bentley, and this is my pal Miles Arlington.”

“It’s a right pleasure.” Colt made a show of shaking both men’s hands. Wes held contact for an unnecessarily long time. Miles gave a fast squeeze, then returned to snapping photos. “Welcome to the ranch.”

“Thanks very much. There’s quite a lot to see around here.”

“That there is,” Colt replied. His open flirting had captured Wes’s undivided attention, and Mack wasn’t sure what to do with that. He had absolutely no claim on Wes—and he was not about to go the fourth-grade route of claiming ownership based on having seen him first—so there was no reason for the banter to irritate him like this.

None. And he wasn’t irritated. Not at all.

“I don’t suppose you cowboys do private, guided tours?” Wes asked.

Colt’s gentle laughter had seduced more than one guy over the course of their friendship, and Mack nearly strangled him on the spot. “We can do group tours, but management frowns on us going out solo with the guests,” Colt replied.

“Shame.” Wes hooked his thumbs in his belt loops as he blatantly cruised Colt. Then he turned slightly, eyes widening as he took in Mack. “Oh, hi.”

Mack narrowed his eyes. “Colt’s not a horseman.” Now why the hell had that come out of his mouth?

Reyes tried to hide a snicker behind his hand.

“He’s not?” Wes asked with wide-eyed surprise. “Cowboy hat’s for fun?”

“It’s practical. Keeps the sun out of his eyes. He’s more of a ranch handyman. Rides, but doesn’t work with the horses.”

“Shame.” Wes leaned in dangerously close. “Wouldn’t have minded a ride with him,” he stage-whispered. “You available instead?”