Page 212 of Burn the Wild

“Birdie, I’m the luckiest man in the world,” Ford groans deeply as he buries himself to the hilt. I whimper as he slams into me. Healing me. Loving me. “I love you so fucking much. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything.”

I close my eyes, tears streaming down my cheek.

He already has.

From traveling with me to Nashville to set up the indie record label with Geneva Scott to building the home we dreamed of together, complete with my own studio, Ford’s given me it all.

His voice breaks. “Promise me, I have you. Promise me you’re mine.”

I grip the gold necklace around my throat. “This is us, Ford. Forever.”

I belong to him—heart, body, and soul.

It overtakes us at the same time. That clench in our gut, that full-body electric ripple. We come together, me half-gasping, half-weeping as he roars his release into my neck.

We burn wild and free.

Minutes later, we head down the hallway. I wiggle across the room to cut the cake, doing my best to hold back laughter. I can still feel Ford’s handprint on my ass.

Soon, the cake is cut, and the toasts are made. Our new house hums with life—great music, loud conversation, and so many friends and family that my heart wants to burst. Everything is perfect. Above us, the angled wooden beams are strung with glittering lights, and blush garden roses fill the house. The antique dining table is covered in various desserts, courtesy of The Huckleberry.

Amidst the chaos, I spy my parents.

“Hi,” I say, sneaking up behind my mom to give her a side hug. “Are you surviving the madness?”

“Reese, honey,” she breathes, hugging me back. “We are. How about you? Are you eating enough? Do you need anything? Did you manage to pee in that dress?”

I chuckle at her motherly fussiness. Ever since we made contact, Bonnie Austin has sent me texts every morning and every night just to make sure I’m doing okay.

My father grunts. “I’m sure she’s just fine, Bonnie. It’s her wedding day.” Morgan Austin stands stoically, arms crossed. Ican barely make out the grin beneath his thick blond beard, but it’s there. Green eyes softening, he flashes me a grin before reaching out to squeeze my shoulder. “Still not too late to run.”

I laugh, smiling up at them. It’s been the greatest gift in the world to have my parents back in my life. Though we’ve taken our time getting to know each other, we’re in a good place. Being away from my parents was like a missing puzzle piece, and now I feel whole. They’re still the same parents who kissed my skinned knees and showed me every chord on a guitar. I love them. They tried to do something selfless to help me, but it ended up backfiring because of Gavin. But we have many more years to get it right.

“I’m having a blast,” I tell them both. “I hope you are, too.”

“We are.” My mother’s lower lip trembles as she drops her hand to mine. She squeezes, sniffling. “We’re so honored that we’re here. That we…” She looks at my father, whose eyes are surprisingly shiny with tears. “Get to see this.”

I shake my head, feeling my own eyes heating. “Don’t, Mom. Please.”

My father takes a sip of his beer and clears his throat, trying to sound gruffer than he looks. “Bonnie, honey, you already had your tears today.”

“No more crying,” I order with a smile. “It’s party time.” Stepping between them, I give them each a kiss on the cheek, and then I’m off.

After making a lap around the house to greet our guests, I wander into the kitchen. Dakota sits on a barstool at the island with her newborn, Lainie, in her arms. Her peony pink bridesmaid dress is a mess of rumpled silk.

“How’s she holding up?” I ask, peeking over her shoulder. The newborn has Dakota’s raven hair and Davis’s stern expression.

Dakota smiles. “I think she’s as tired as me.”

I move around the island and face her. “How areyouholding up?”

Her smile falls. “I’m okay. Fallon should be here,” she says, her voice quivering. She looks down at her daughter. “She’s missed so much.”

“I know,” I say, my heart aching for her.

The rest of the Montgomery brothers crash into the kitchen with plates of cakes in their hands. Ruby bounces in behind them, delicate flowers in her hair.

“What are you all doing?” Dakota asks, covertly wiping her face.

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