Page 65 of Burn the Wild

“And hard on everything else,” Wyatt mutters.

The wine glass freezes inches from my lips. The tension between Fallon and Wyatt hangs in the air like a smoke ring. Judging from the averted eyes and clattering utensils, everyone else feels it, too.

Stede puffs his chest up in pride. “My girl’s been training hard.” He pats his daughter’s hand.

“Fallon rides bulls,” Dakota tells me since I must look lost.

“Bulls?” I stare at Fallon. “Wait. I’m confused. I thought that was—”

“Dangerous as fuck?” Wyatt says, sounding smug.

Fallon scoffs, sending him a look sharp enough to cut. “Never let a man who prefers mares tell you anything about your attitude.”

I shake my head, not wanting to come off as rude. “I just didn’t know women could ride bulls.”

Her red lips curve wickedly. “I’m going to be the best.”

“You have to get those migraines under control before you get on the back of a bull,” Davis orders, angling a fork down the table at Fallon. “You can’t ride until then.”

She glares at him. “Watch me.”

“What do you think of the ranch, Reese?” Dakota asks, quickly changing the subject. She lifts a spoonful of peas to Duke’s babbling lips.

I take a sip of my wine, then set down the glass. “I haven’t seen too much of it yet. That’ll change since I’m working here.”

All eyes land on Ford.

He shifts, looking uncomfortable. “I hired her to help this summer.”

Davis glances at Charlie. His stern expression says he hasn’t heard the news. His brown eyes return to Ford. “That a good idea?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Ruby pipes up, smiling in triumph.

Ford leans back and crosses his arms. “I second that, Fairy Tale.”

“I’ll lie low,” I tell Davis, not wanting to cause trouble or be a burden. “All I want to do is work, make some money.”

As I saw through a hunk of steak, I realize everyone is staring at me. My damn bangles. They keep clanging against the edge of the plate. Even Ford is wincing.

“Sorry,” I say, but I don’t take them off.

Wyatt, scraping up the last of his cornbread, leans in and asks, “Is it true your vocal cords are insured for 1.3 million dollars?”

“Wyatt,” Ford snaps, annoyance clouding his features. “Leave her alone.”

I laugh. “No.” I arch a brow, meet his curious gaze. “They’re worth 3.2.”

Laughs float around the table.

I smile, but nerves have my shoulders up near my ears. Family dynamics like this—loud, casual, happy—are foreign to me. Even though Gavin raised me, we never did this. Birthdays were held in clubs or spent in hotel rooms, alone. I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have this. A family. Love. Fitting in.

Something I’m definitely not doing. I’m an outsider looking in on a perfect circle of friends.

“Heard you had some trouble at Nowhere last night,” Davis booms, and Ford and I lock eyes.

“News sure got around fast,” I murmur.

Ford grins like we’re in cahoots. I pretend I hate the feeling. “That’s a small town for you, honey. Big ears, bigger mouths.”

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