Page 48 of Burn the Wild

I cut her a look. “How were you planning on getting back to the ranch?”

Her lips curve, feline. “I wasn’t.”

If she’s saying it to bait me, it’s working. A primal caveman possessiveness overtakes me. Not to mention my cock’s a tire iron. This girl’s playing a dangerous game of chicken.

“You ain’t gonna be a good-old boys’ girl,” I warn, rubbing my jaw when all I really want to do is punch a hole in the wall. “Not tonight, honey.” I sigh and lean in. “Listen, Reese. These guys aren’t for you.”

Her beautiful face tilts back to look at me. “Oh, and I suppose you know someone who is?”

Yeah. Me.

But I stop myself short of saying it. That would be a big mistake.

Beef sets a beer down, and I level a finger. “You give her one more goddamn drink…”

“Bye,” Reese chirps suddenly. She hops off the bar stool and shoves past me.

I curse and attempt to follow, but Floyd Gunderson blocks my path.

“Selling my ranch, Ford. Sure am.”

“Well, hell, remind me to put in an offer on that.” I put my hands on his shoulders, push him backward. “But right now, I gotta go.”

Craning my neck, I scan the bar for Reese. Thank Christ my brothers aren’t here to witness the shitshow. Lord knows I’d get an earful about how a grown woman is handing me my ass.

My pulse roars in my ears as I spot her clumsily two-stepping with Travis Wheaton, a local rancher. He drives a Cybertruck, so he’s automatically our town’s biggest dipshit. I watch as he leans in close to her, his hand sliding low on her back before gripping her ass.

I don’t fucking think so.

“Fuck this,” I mutter as I stalk across the bar. Reese either came here to try my patience or give me a goddamn heart attack.

I wedge myself between them, breaking Travis’s hold on her ass. I don’t miss the way Reese takes an immediate step back.

“Time to go,” I say, curling my hand around her arm.

Travis lets out a short laugh. “Fuck off, Montgomery. I’m having a conversation with—”

“Jane.” I step closer. “And it doesn’t look like a conversation. It looks like you’re copping a feel. And if you know what’s fucking good for you, you’ll leave her alone.”

Travis holds up his hands. “Whatever, man.”

I glance to my right.

Reese is gone.

I whip around. Christ, where is she now? It’s like trying to chase a cyclone. Wrangling my brothers is a pain in the ass, but this girl makes them look easy.

Travis’s eyes lift, and a laugh erupts from his belly. He elbows one of his cronies. “Get a load of this.”

I follow his gaze and understand why that vein in Davis’s temple always looks like it’s on its last nerve.

Reese is strutting her stuff across the bar top like it’s her own personal stage.

Beef stares up at her, his eyes grazing over her long, long legs.

In any other scenario, I’d probably fight back a smile over the fact this girl doesn’t give a shit. She’s star power incarnate and has my small town slack-jawed and gaping. But she’s in hiding, she’s in trouble, and most importantly, she’s drunk as a goddamn skunk.

I know unhealthy coping mechanisms when I see them. And Reese is a walking red flag.

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