Page 18 of Wild Bred

“Yeah. I thought it would be nice to see the stars as I’m falling asleep.”

“I love that. I wish I had a skylight above my bed.”

“You can enjoy mine.”

“Oh, yeah? How often can I come over?” she says, grinning at me.

I almost say, As often as you want. But it feels like a dumb thing to say. Clearing my throat, I say, “Easy. Let’s take it a day at a time.”

“Aw. You’re no fun. I want commitment, Reid.”

I can tell she’s joking, but hearing her talk like that stokes the embers glowing inside me. Where did this fire come from? How the hell did I go from resisting her to wanting to impregnate her? How can I be feeling so much right now?

If any answers exist, they’re far beyond my reach.

8

MACKENNA

Aside from baking cookies, I really don’t know what I’m doing in the kitchen. I don’t know any impressive recipes, I only use a few of the spices on the rotating rack that’s sitting on my counter, and my knife skills are mediocre at best.

And yet here I am, driving home with groceries for an overambitious dinner that I’ve insisted on cooking for Reid tonight.

I’m not sure what’s gotten into me. All I know is that I feel an overwhelming desire to cook for him. To share a good meal with him. To have him here in my home…and in my life.

I know I need to be sensible about this. I should take things slow; there’s no reason to rush. But it’s so hard to convince myself of that when being around Reid makes me feel as good as it does.

I pull into the sanctuary’s parking area, hop out, and grab two of the grocery bags from the back seat. As I’m carrying the first round of groceries to my tiny house, I hear a soft mechanical sound that I don’t think much of in the moment. I’m too focused on thinking about my cooking plans.

But as I’m carrying the other two bags, I hear the noise again, and I look up to see one of the surveillance cameras focused directly on me.

My stomach churns when I notice it. There’s no reason for the camera to be angled the way it is right now. No reason…except for one.

I quickly get the rest of the groceries put away in my house, then make a beeline for the office with my stomach in knots. When I barge in, Justin is standing at the food prep counter, fiddling with a bag of animal feed and acting as if he wasn’t just controlling the cameras.

“What is it going to take for you to stop?” I demand.

“Stop what?” he asks, paying more attention to the clipboard near him than me.

“Justin, you know what I’m talking about. We’ve had this conversation over and over again. I’m so tired of it. I need you to stop.”

He finally looks at me, his eyes full of frustration. “You never even gave me a chance. If you would just be open to it…”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested.”

“But what if we gave it a shot and?—”

I cut him off, speaking more forcefully than ever. “The answer is no. I don’t want to go out with you. Not now, or ever. That’s not going to change.”

He looks hurt. Really hurt. In fact, his eyes are welling up with tears. Oh, God. Now I feel horrible. I was too harsh, wasn’t I? Feeling guilty, I step toward him and put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

He quickly swipes at his eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I know I keep pestering you. I just think you’re really great.”

“I think you’re great, too. Really. I wouldn’t be able to run this place without you.”

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