Page 71 of Burn the Wild

She’s not my responsibility.

Yet, here I am, turning and heading in the opposite direction.

My fucking fault. I put her in that damn chalet at the edge of the forest. If I was smart, I would’ve kept her close. Next to me.

Another bad idea.

But there’s something about Reese…something wild. Dangerous.

And all I want to do is rope and ride her.

“I don’t fucking believe this,” I mutter when I get to Reese’s chalet.

Her door’s wide open.

“Reese?” I poke my head inside. Makeup on the kitchen table. The clothes she wore to dinner lay in a pile in the middle of the floor. Christ. She can’t clean worth a lick.

I step back, scouring the area. In the dirt, I spot footprints.

High heels, to be exact. Long heel marks in the soil.

I move toward the forest, unease spreading through me.

She must have put down half a bottle of wine tonight. Not to mention, traipsing through the forest in those death traps she calls shoes is only asking for trouble.

Those two thoughts push me through the forest with laser-focused speed.

“Goddamn it,” I mutter, crunching twigs and brush beneath my boots. I pay more attention to this woman than anything else in my life. Fuck, but it’s embarrassing.

Just as I round the grove of trees that shield the lake, I slam into a body.

Reese.

On instinct, I reach out, grabbing her by the waist before she can fall.

“I thought you were going home,” I snap.

“Well, I didn’t,” she huffs, high heels in her hand. “Get your eyes checked.”

My gaze travels down. That’s when I realize she’s wet. Even in the dark, I can see she’s wearing nothing but a T-shirt that grazes her thighs, the thin material exposing dark, peaked nipples. Her bare feet are covered by red sand from the lake. Bangles on her wrists. High heels in her hands. Water sluices down her face, and her long hair drips over one slender shoulder like melted honey.

My hands shift on her hips. Still holding tight. I’m not sure if it’s for her benefit or for mine. “Hey, what happened? What’s wrong?”

“Always so nosy.” She juts her chin. “If you have to know, I was abducted by aliens and probed out in the big, bad woods.”

Another lie.

“Don’t wander,” I tell her roughly, staring down at her beautiful, heart-shaped face, the necklace around her slender throat.

“Don’t wander,” she says in a spooky voice, brows lifting. Her body moves in a mock shudder and her breasts sweep against my chest. My heart picks up a dangerous beat. “Are you the Grumpy Cowboy Ghost of Midnight Past?”

“It’s not safe in the forest.” I peer behind her, take in the lake and its gentle current. Did she go for a fucking swim? “We had a wolf ‘round these parts last year.” If I have to scare her to knock some sense into her, so be it.

Her laugh is sad, and she forces a small smile. “Pity the wolf who meets me. I’m a menace.Isn’t that what you said, Ford?”

Angry at myself, I shake my head. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said a lot of things.”

Apologizing has never been my strong suit, but for this girl, I have the strong urge to get on my knees and do just that.

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