Page 63 of Burn the Wild

Clearly, I’ve gone insane.

But right now, all I can think about is seeing her again. Tonight.

Islow my stride when I reach the Edens. The farmhouse is massive and modern. With a sprawling front porch, gravel drive, and deer antlers over the front door, it screams cowboy chic. What seems like a hundred acres of emerald grass stretch in every direction, framed by dense woods behind the property. In the distance, the lake glitters.

My skin itches and I debate on turning right back around. The black hole hovers. The urge to let it consume me is overwhelming.

As I climb the porch steps, my attention’s drawn to the four men in the front yard. I realize it’s Ford and his brothers. They’re using a bow and arrow to shoot an apple off each other’s heads. Shouts of laughter fill the air.

“Shit show, isn’t it?”

A girl with long caramel hair stands at the front door. Dressed in jeans and a scarlet-colored tank top that matches her lipstick, she’s both beautiful and terrifying. Muscles like whipped ropes. Tattoos over her entire body. A bruise on her cheekbone. She looks built like a brick wall and just as tough.

“What are they doing?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes. “Shortening their life span.” She takes a drag of her cigarette. “We can only hope.”

I can’t help but stare at the men. They’re all tall, beautiful, and rugged. Like they were raised on muscles and dirt. Two of them remind me of grizzly bears, while Ford and another brother remind me of wildcats. True cowboys, from the Stetsons on their heads to the mud on their boots.

“What do they feed the men in Montana?” I muse.

“Idiot pills,” she drawls. “I’m Fallon.”

“Reese.”

Fallon’s hazel eyes skim over me. The corner of her mouth turns up. “So, whose idea was this? Ruby’s or my sister’s?”

“Ruby’s.”

Her laugh is dagger sharp. “You’ll learn, once you meet her, you can’t shake her loose.” An affectionate smile stains her face. “But you won’t want to either. Come in.”

I follow the clomp of her cowboy boots down a hall covered in family photos.

The kitchen is bright and airy, with a lifted deck extending off it that overlooks the backyard. The sliding door is open, offering picture-perfect views of the forest and jagged mountain peaks. Muted country music plays from a speaker.

The scrabble of paws and shuffle of feet catch my attention, and then a dog and a baby are standing in front of me. I can’t decide which one is more adorable.

“This little hellion is Duke,” Fallon says, snagging the baby and tossing him into the air. A scream of laughter erupts from Duke’s mouth. “And that’s Keena.”

I bend down to rub the dog’s ears. “Hi, there.”

The dog tilts her head, listening intently.

A woman pops up from the oven, purple potholders on her hands. “Hi,” she says, flashing a smile that makes her dark eyes sparkle. “Please come in.”

“Thanks for having me. I’m Reese.”

“I’m Dakota.”

“Can I help with anything?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Nope. Just relax.”

Fallon groans. “Ugh, figures while the boys play, the women cook like it’s 1950.”

Dakota laughs and reaches for a bottle of wine. “Trust me, they’re not exempt. They get clean-up duty.”

“Hey, assholes,” Fallon shouts from the porch as Dakota fills a wine glass for me. “It’s dinnertime.”

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