Page 150 of Burn the Wild

He’s alive and okay.

Hot tears fill my eyes.

What would I do without him?

I want to exist—not because of him, butforhim. All because I—

I gasp.

So loud in the silence. So loud that Mouse lifts her head to scrutinize me.About damn time.

I cover my mouth with a trembling hand.

No. Impossible. I cannot love this man. This—this cowboy.

I look at his large hand wrapped around mine, his calloused fingertips gently covering the scars on the inside of my wrist.

I do.

I love him.

Dual waves of panic and joy crash over me.

Would he love me back? Could he? With my past, my chaos, am I more a burden than he needs? What if he considers us friends and nothing more? Still, despite my what-ifs, my heart is a wild tremble. A lick of flame igniting hopes and dreams long buried.

Maybe this is why I’m here. Maybe everything has led me to Ford.

Standing, I untangle our hands and lean down to press a kiss to his brow. I breathe in his scent, feel the ache in my gut snap tight.

When I open the door and step outside, I run into a solid wall of muscle.

Davis.

His hands fist at his side. “You don’t have to go,” he says.

I palm my hands to my heart. “No. I should.” My gaze locks with his. “Take care of him, okay?”

I’m halfway down the hall when Davis booms, “Reese.”

Breath held, I turn.

“I’m sorry.” The smile he gives me is soft. “I was wrong about you.”

I smile back at him.

“Yeah,” I breathe. “I think I was wrong about me, too.”

Voices. Laughter. From inside the room or far away—I can’t tell.

All I know—with a singular fucking focus—is that the sun needs to die.

A few muttered curses, then, “Looks like sleeping beauty’s coming around.”

“Fuck off,” I mutter. Even slightly delirious and in pain, I know an asshole little brother when I hear one.

With that, I push through exhaustion and open my eyes, hissing a breath as the sun sears my retinas.

“Put me out of my fucking misery,” I rasp.

---