Page 37 of Burn the Wild

“A thing?” I ask. Okay, call me curious.

She shies away, closer into a corner. Her shoulders hike up toward her ears. “I don’t like them.”

Of course she doesn’t.

“How do you not like a horse?” I move to the next stall. Inside, my Appaloosa chuffs. “This little fucker is Eephus. He’s tried to kill me numerous times. He’s the most incompetent, useless gelding I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. And I still love the bastard.”

Eephus whinnies, a demand for affection.

Reese makes a face at me. “What kind of name is Eephus?”

I mime tossing a ball. “Means a slow pitch with a high as fuck arc.” Pride heats inside of me. “I used one on Phil Brenna and got the strikeout of the century.”

A smile quirks her lips. “Is that your superpower? No shame?”

I arch a brow. “No fear.”

Though her eyes are still wary, Reese takes a small step forward. The movement makes her bangles jingle, and Eephus stomps his feet, flaring his nostrils.

“Shit,” I swear, holding out a firm hand to stop her. “Stay there.”

Her face falls. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just listen. Ground rules, okay?” I pet Eephus, calming him. “You don’t go near the horses with those things on. You got me?” Frightened horses are a liability. Not to mention, I don’t want her getting hurt. Another problem I don’t need.

“Sure.” Her golden hair catches the sunlight as she looks around the barn. “So, what do I do?”

“Take that hay there and move it up into that loft.” I shake my head when she reaches for the pile. “Not with your hands.”

“So helpful.” She glares at me. “What should I use then?”

“This.” I step toward her, pinning her against the wall to reach above her. She’s at least five foot four, but I’ve got almost a foot on her. I stretch up, my libido roaring as my body sweeps against hers. Soft. Hot. Sexy as hell.

Fuck.

“Ford,” she whispers, and damn if it’s not like the snap of a rein.

I snatch the pitchfork off the wall and blow out a tense breath as I move back. I need to get out of her way, give us both space, before I do something I regret. Like kiss the fuck out of her.

Clearing my throat, I carefully hand Reese the pitchfork. My gaze trails over the pretty pink flush on her cheeks that matches her lips. “Use this to shovel the hay.”

Our eyes remain locked until she turns away from me. “I’ll get right to it.”

I busy myself with the horses, adding fresh food to the stalls and checking on a pregnant mare due any day now.

When the pitchfork slices dangerously close to my shoulder, I whip around. “Christ, woman, you tryin’ to impale me?” She’s as reckless as she is beautiful.

Reese laughs, white teeth flashing. Even her smile is dazzling. “Would end all my problems, wouldn’t it?”

“Get used to it, honey,” I say, a wave of irritation washing over me. I don’t like the effect she has on my chest. A tight, dangerous feeling I ache to be rid of. “You’re not gonna prance around the ranch all day. You want to stay, you have to earn your keep.”

She flips me an exaggerated salute with a flick of her delicate wrist. “Whatever you say,boss man.”

I set my jaw. “And when you’re done with that—see that bucket. Go slop the pigs.”

She recoils. Laughs right in my face. “I’m not doing that.”

I lean in and give her a grin. “We’ll see about that.”

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