Page 131 of Burn the Wild

Ford eyes search mine, his expression filled with raw emotion.

I take a breath and continue. Might as well get the worst out now. “Gavin found me. He put me in Muirwood, a mental health facility. He told the papers it was rehab to cover it all up. For weeks, I was out of it and didn’t know what I was doing.” A brittle laugh pops out of me. “I was sick and confused but I signed that fucking contract, because he saved my life. So, I owed him, right?”

“That’s not a fucking manager,” Ford says, looking like he’s going to be sick. “That’s a fucking monster. Christ, baby.”

“Ever since Muirwood, I’ve felt like I have a dark hole. It’s not always there, but it hovers—and it hurts.” I’m breathing so hard it feels like my heart will fly away from my chest. “That’s why I came out here. Where I was…it was bad for me. I could feel it coming back again.”

“And now?” He swallows. “Do you feel it here?” His breath holds, and I see his worry, his fear.

That I’ll do it again.

A shudder wracks my frame. “No. I don’t.” Tears slide down my cheeks in a salty stream. “I don’t feel it here. I still get sad sometimes, but I haven’t…I haven’t wanted to end things since that day. But that’s why I wantmylife.Mine.”

A strangled sob leaves my mouth.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me,” I whisper, my breath hitching. “I worked through it, and it was so hard, but I did it. I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

Suddenly, years of shame and feeling unwanted swoop in. Embarrassment has me ripping my hand from Fords. Has me moving to the shore. I have to get out. Get away. From my panic, away from my shame.

I stumble when I reach the bank. But I can’t hold myself up any longer. I sink to my knees and weep, digging my fingers in the sandy red earth.

Strong arms surround me. Ford cradles me to his chest.

I bury my face in his neck, trembling as I cry. “Am I broken, Ford? Am I a wreck?”

“No, baby.” His deep voice soothes my soul. “Absolutely not.”

I grip his shirt, like I can burrow into his body. “I try so hard to be good.”

He strokes my hair, makes rough sounds of comfort. “Nah, baby. You try so hard to be bad. I see you, Reese. I see your sadness and your beauty. I don’t want to break it. I want to hang onto it. I’ll sit with you in it. As long as it takes.”

Lifting my head, I meet his gaze. “You will?” I whisper.

“I will, Bluebird,” he whispers back. “I promise.”

Back in the chalet, Ford towers over me as he strips me down. His big hands remove my dress, until I’m shivering and naked, and only one thing remains.

Us.

I step into him. Chill bumps cover my clammy skin and yet, I burn.

He drinks in my body, his hands gripping my hips. “I want you warm, Birdie.”

I nuzzle my nose against his warm chest. Inhale his scent of lake water, pine, and man. “Then make me warm, Country Boy.”

His breathing hitches its rhythm. “Baby.”

“Ford.” My hands go to his wet shirt. “I need you.”

If he rejects me…I couldn’t bear it.

“Never,” he growls as if hearing my thoughts. His strong, steady drawl eclipses my worry. His eyes have a wild primal look to them. “Never. You’re mine, you hear me?”

Mine.

His words decimate me.

He looks as stunned as I do, but then like a rein’s snapped, he hauls me against his muscled body and kisses me.

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