Page 120 of Burn the Wild

Dakota steadies Fallon. Hiccups. “We need to call someone.”

Islam into the Bullshit Box to find Wyatt flinging darts while Davis and Charlie shuffle through paperwork on their desks.

Davis arches a brow. “Lookin’ for Reese?”

I glower. “No.” Yes. All damn day. She’s been MIA and I’ve been losing my mind.

I lower myself into the chair at my desk and pretend to be interested in the guest log. I scan the list of names booked into the chalets.

Austin, Reese, West

Ingalls, Charles, East

Ketchum, Brian, East

O’Brien, Ashley, East

“Reese and Ruby went into town,” Charlie offers.

“Fuckin’ fabulous,” I mutter, frustration bleeding into my tone. I’m not her keeper, but I don’t like not knowing where she is. Despite the fact that we argued, I want her to know she can come to me for anything.

Wyatt snorts. “She’s got your ass stressed.”

Davis twists in his chair. “What did you do?”

“What makes you think it’s my fault?” When my brothers stare at me silently, I sigh and give up the fight. “I asked her what her deal was with her secrets, and when she wouldn’t tell me, I told her we should take a break.”

Wyatt’s whistle sounds like a bomb dropping.

Davis arches a brow. “A break sounds like y’all were together.”

“We ain’t,” I argue. “We’re friends.”

“Ruby was ready to run when she thought I was gettin’ too close,” Charlie says.

I think of Ruby and Dakota. Women with secrets, yet they were the best things to happen to my brothers.

I pop a cinnamon candy in my mouth. “Y’all relationship experts, now?”

Davis and Charlie share smug glances. “We’re married.”

I don’t want to be married. I should say it, but the thought doesn’t ring true. Not anymore.

Hell, I’ve been looking for my dream girl for a while. Tried to tell myself it wasn’t meant for me. Tried to pretend I didn’t want what my brothers had. But I do. I always have.

“If you’re not serious about her, then why do you care?” Wyatt flings a dart, then plops onto the couch. “Just keep shit to the bedroom.”

It matters because I miss her. I miss her like crazy. I miss cooking her breakfast and coming home to her after a long day on the ranch. I miss her turning up wherever I am. The sound of her bangles that’s now damn Pavlovian to me because it means she’s near. I miss her pouty kisses, the feel of her, all soft and sweet and sleepy in my arms.

There’s no getting over this girl.

Fuck but I like her. More than friends. I let my fear push her away. When she called my bluff and walked out, I knew I had made a mistake calling things off. I’m the asshole who blew it because I was selfish.

Regret eats at me. I should have been patient. Whatever her story is, it’s hers. Not mine.

“It’s too late for that.” I scrub a hand through my hair, hating myself for what I’m about to admit. “I do care about her.”

Davis groans.

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