Page 26 of Burn the Wild

“If I took it, yeah.” I take a sip of my beer, ignoring the way it settles heavily in my stomach. “Y’all drive me bat-shit crazy, anyway.”

Maybe it’s time to move the fuck on. I never thought I’d want any other life except Runaway Ranch. It saved me after Savannah. But what if I’m stuck? What if all I am is a washed-up pitcher with a bad rep and a video to haunt me?

I could lie and say I don’t want what my brothers have, but I do. I did. Once upon a time. A Georgia mansion in the country, and a damn good woman by my side. But that’s a fairytale. My ragged heart doesn’t dare touch anything resembling love.

“You boys bitching?”

Blinking out of my daze, I grin at the sight of Dakota and Ruby in the doorway. The Bullshit Box is now a full-on family affair.

Charlie chuckles and reaches for Ruby. “Bullshitting, baby. Bullshitting.”

“I have treats for you.” Dakota unpacks a mountain of pastries from the basket looped around her arm. “Homemade pop-tarts. Lemon pie with Fruity Pebbles. I’m thinking of serving these on opening day.”

A chair rips back and Wyatt’s already at the table.

“Did you find out what Reese’s story is, Ford?” Ruby asks, settling on Charlie’s lap.

Annoyed, I cross my arms. There are too many people bringing up Reese and making her my problem. “It’s none of my business.”

“The girl’s on my ranch,” Charlie reminds me, adjusting Ruby in his arms.

“We need to know who’s on the property.” Davis accentuates his point with a punch to his keyboard. “I don’t want trouble this year.”

I’d roll my eyes, but Davis is right. The last two years have been a shitshow. We’ve dealt with the Wolfingtons, actual fucking wolves, fires, slimy developers, and kidnappings. If we can get through the summer in one piece, it’ll be a miracle.

“Grady said something about her needing a break,” I mutter.

“Rehab?” Davis’s frown deepens.

I groan.

“She’s not just a girl, you know,” Wyatt says, opening his big fat mouth. How he heard the news through the grapevine, I have no goddamn idea. “She’s Reese Austin. A superstar country singer.” He shoves the last bite of pop-tart in his mouth. “Shewas in that movie ten years ago about a teenage horse trainer. The hot one who broke her neck.”

“Goddamn, Wyatt,” Charlie says, half-chuckling, half-wincing.

“She’s a big fuckin’ deal.” Wyatt stands and leans in to use my laptop. “I’ll show you.”

“Christ,” I complain, but stand to give him room. Wyatt hasn’t known about personal space since he started walking. “And how do you know all this?” I couldn’t give two shits about pop culture. I’ve never been one for trends or social media—I like to live in the moment—but right now, I realize I don’t know fuck all about Reese Austin.

Wyatt wiggles his brows. “Cause y’all are old and boring,” he says, and the three of us scoff. With a flourish, he spins the laptop to the group.

Everyone crowds around the desk. I hang back, arms crossed, refusing to watch. But it doesn’t last long. As soon as the song starts, I’m captivated by Reese Austin clad in nothing but a sheer slip dress. The crowd roars their approval as she rolls her hips and belts into the mic. The husky edge of her voice has a surge of blood racing to my dick.

Fuck.

“Look her up,” Davis orders when the video is over.

The news headlines aren’t any better.

Reese Austin, 26, Scores 1M-Per-Show Deal

Missing Country Singer in Rehab (Again) or in Hiding?

Where is Reese Austin? Troubled Star MIA

“So she is in hiding,” Ruby murmurs.

I scrape a hand through my hair, keep it there. “Shit.”

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