Page 61 of Burn the Wild

I reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet.

Her big green eyes get even bigger when I hold out my card. “What is this?”

“My credit card. Go buy yourself whatever you want.”

She scoffs. “You’re a cowboy. You don’t have money.”

My gaze remains glued to Reese. “I was number one in the national league. You think I don’t have money? Think again.” Yeah, I’m fucking cocky. Though I’m the furthest thing from a broke farm boy, my brothers and I were hardly born with silver spoons in our mouths. Our parents made us work for everything. All my money from baseball is still sitting in the bank. Beer, outdoor gear—that stuff won’t drain my account.

My eyes land on Reese. Now that I think about it, I could use better things to do with my money.

Reese props her hands on her hips. “You don’t have enough money for me.”

I grin. “Try me, princess.”

“I could break your bank account,” she insists.

My cock flexes. That haughty fucking mouth. I hate how much it turns me on. All I want to do is shut her up with my lips.

Sick of arguing, I stride into the dressing room and scoop up the pile of clothes.

“What are you doing?”

I grunt. “Buying you clothes.”

She grabs my bicep. “No, Ford—”

“Woman, what do you want from me? You’re not happy when I yell, you’re not happy when I help. Are you ever goddamn happy?”

Reese deflates, and I’m horrified when tears spring to her pretty emerald eyes.

Covering her mouth, she turns and rushes out of the store.

“Shit.” I look at Rita and toss the clothes on the counter, along with my card. On second thought, I add a gold horseshoe necklace to the pile. “Ring it up. All of it. We’ll be right back.”

I find Reese on the street corner and hustle up to her. “You want to tell me why you’re out here pouting so I don’t have to guess?”

I expect fire and brimstone in her green eyes, but I don’t get that. Reese crosses her arms, hugging her waist. “I don’t want to owe you anything, Ford.” Her voice is so soft, so sad, it momentarily stalls my heart. “I have money of my own and it pisses me off that I can’t get it.”

“You will get it,” I say sharply. Suddenly, it’s all I want to do for her. She’ll get her money. I’ll make sure of it.

I place my hand on her shoulder, and she looks up at me. “But until then, there’s no shame in accepting help, Reese. Especially when you have nowhere to turn. God knows I’ve taken more than my fair share.” She tilts her head at me curiously, and I plow ahead, not wanting to get into that story. “We’re cowboys. We help our own. Help our neighbors. You’re on Runaway Ranch now, and we got you.”

“But I worry about it. You accept help, you owe people. They cash in. They hold it against you.” She shivers. “Until it hurts.”

I battle a rush of unease. What the fuck does that mean?

I slide a finger beneath her chin, tilting her stubborn gaze up to mine. “I ain’t plannin’ to cash in. Besides, you’re working at the ranch, right? This will just go on your tab. You’ll pay it off yourself. In the meantime, I stopped by the bank earlier andgot you this.” I pull a folded account application from my back pocket. “Fill it out and we can stop back by the bank to open your own account.”

“Really?” Her voice trembles as she stares down at the slip of paper like it’s a bar of solid gold.

“Really,” I husk.

She looks up at me, and…fuck. The gratitude shining in her eyes. Something this little shouldn’t mean this much.

I tug at the brim of her baseball cap. “Besides, if I’m going to hold anything against you, it’s me saving your ass the other night at the bar.”

That earns me a smile. A small one, but I’ll take it.

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