Page 113 of Burn the Wild

My throat swells tight. “Nothing to thank me for. Just a cowboy helping a…”

She hikes up an eyebrow. “A friend?”

“Yeah.” I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “A friend.”

But do I believe those words anymore? Do I even want to?

She touches a finger to my mouth and smiles. “Well, Country Boy, come get your benefit.”

As she presses up on tiptoes, I twist my baseball cap to the side. Then I angle my lips to hers and breathe in her sweetness and light.

Smiling as she pulls away, she says, “All I have to do is wait him out. And then I can do anything.”

A pang slices through me.

I still feel like I don’t know a goddamn thing about her.

Emptiness. Cool sheets. I lift my head and blink. Reese isn’t beside me where she normally sleeps. My stomach roils.

“Reese?”

Silence.

I wait.

One minute.

Two minutes.

She’s not here.

I draw in a breath and tear out of bed. Worry has me in a chokehold as I shove on jeans, boots. I hurry across the room, grab my wallet and my keys. Wherever the fuck she is, whenever I find her, she’s getting a fucking talking to.

Just as I’m reaching for the doorknob, it opens.

My heart skips a beat when I see Reese in the doorway, soaked from head to toe. Water sluices from her damp hair, running over her silk sleep shirt. At her feet, Mouse meows, her slinky body weaving between Reese’s legs.

“Where the hell have you been?”

She laughs nervously. “Keeping tabs on me?”

I rip a hand through my hair. “Yeah, I am. Especially when you’re sleeping in my bed.”

Edging around me, she shrugs a slender shoulder. “I went out.”

“Out?” I exhale my frustration. Mouse meows, dropping a furry ball near my feet. I ignore it. “Reese, it’s two in the morning,” I snap. The fact that Reese is out on the ranch in the dead of night has fear creeping into my gut.

Towel in hand, she runs it over her damp skin. “Ford…I’m tired, okay?”

I grit my jaw. I don’t want to do this. Fight with her. What I want to do is peel those wet clothes from her body and fuck her senseless. Only worry, anger rise up in me. A determination, a desperate need to understand this girl.

“C’mon,” she says, taking my hand. “Let’s go back to bed.” She stands on tiptoes. Kisses my throat.

I grit my teeth. Those big green eyes, those heaven-sent kisses—I know what she’s doing. And it won’t work. Not anymore.

I step away. “What are you doing in the woods, Reese?”

“Chicken check,” she jokes. But I’m not going to let her do this. Not anymore.

---