Page 72 of Burn the Wild

“Hold up.” I catch her arm before she can turn away. “Stop that mouth for a minute.”

Her eyes flash. Pissed off. Good. How I like her.

“You sure you’re okay?” I ask. Need has me pulling her closer. Has my thumb sweeping over that pouty bottom lip.

Her lips twist in amusement. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were worried.”

My voice is raspy as hell as I admit, “Yeah. I was.”

“Oh.” Her eyes go wide with surprise.

I quickly cup her cheek and force her gaze to mine. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” she breathes. Eyes fluttering, her body curves toward me like some magnetic pull. She’s warm. Soft. Sweet.

Fuck. I want to kiss her.

I run my hands down her chilled arms. If it was up to me, I’d put her over my shoulder like I did last night and carry her back to her chalet. Spank that spoiled ass until it throbs. Put her in the bed. Fuck her.

And then I’d fuck her again in the shower.

My muscles tighten when she presses a palm against my chest. Only, instead of pulling me in, she pushes herself away from me. “Bye, Ford.” The way she says my name—real, gentle—has my cock pulsing. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early. Six o’clock,” I say as she walks away.

She glances over her shoulder. Playful fire dances in her eyes. “Oh, you’re gonna love me at six in the a.m.”

There’s a bounce in her step as her presence, her soft heat, disappears into the darkness.

With that, I stand there in the dark, hating myself.

Don’t care. You absolutely cannot fucking care.

At six, I meet Ford in front of the lodge. He’s already waiting for me, wearing his usual uniform of torn blue jeans, a tight T-shirt, baseball cap, and boots. In his hand, an iced coffee and a white paper sack.

His heated gaze meets mine as I approach, and for a second, there’s a deep tug in my stomach. Like my body has nothing better to do than be attached to him.

“Coffee, breakfast,” he says, handing me the bag.

“Which one is poisoned?” I ask.

He ignores me in favor of checking the two-way radio attached to his hip.

I peek in the bag, and my mouth waters. A pastry the size of a small island is inside, along with two hard-boiled eggs and a bottled water.

“Thank you.” I laugh lightly. “I didn’t know Runaway Ranch had delivery.”

“New foot.” He grins at me. No contempt or anger in his smile, just a simple honestness. It shouldn’t be so sexy, but it is. “If you’re workin’ on the ranch, you need fuel. Breakfast every morning.”

Gavin would be furious. About a lot of things. Like the fact that I skipped my medication this morning. It makes me sleepy, and I want to have my wits about me today.

“Besides…” He grins wider. “If I wanted you out of the way, we’re on a ranch. Hell of a lot more creative options than just poisoning a pastry.”

I arch a brow. “So you admit you’ve thought about it?”

That lazy half-smile appears on his face, causing all my insides to tumble. “Just eat.”

I savor the deliciousness of the iced coffee, then take a huge bite of pastry.

---