Page 79 of Burn the Wild

Plus, it’s like a channel to the outside world. To Ford.

I think of that near-miss kiss today in the barn. His hand in my hair. That look in his eyes. Like? Lust? Loathing? Loathing, I decide. It has to be.

Despite my undeniable attraction to this broody country boy, I refuse to fall for Ford Montgomery. My life is a mess, and a man complicates everything. Besides, I’m leaving soon. He has his choice of any woman he wants. A man like Ford doesn’t wanta girl like me. He has his life together. He’s a bright light, and I’m just that black hole. Existing. Hovering somewhere in the ether.

Even if he doesn’t make me feel like that.

For once in my life, he makes me feel like I could have hope.

My fingers itch, and I give in, picking up the two-way radio. I switch the channel to Ford’s, telling myself it’s a distraction. Simply a way to entertain my runaway brain.

It’s not because I miss him. And it’s not because he feels like the only friend I’ve had in a long time.

“Moo,” I say into the receiver. “Calling all cows.”

For a few seconds, silence. My heartbeat hammers as I wait. Then a rolling rumble of a chuckle comes through the radio.

“Cows have been secured.”

I recline into a pillow. “What’re you doing?”

“Watching a ballgame.” I picture him in those gray sweatpants, Mouse on his lap, and suddenly, wish I were there. Beside him.

“Who’s winning?”

“The Braves. What are you up to?”

I look at my notepad and flinch. “I wrote a song. A bad one.”

“I doubt that.” The sound of the baseball game gets lower. “Play it for me one day?”

I smile. “Maybe.”

“It’s late,” he says almost sternly.

“I know.” Honesty makes my heart speed up. “I didn’t want to be alone.”

A long pause. Then, “I’ll keep the radio on.”

“Really?”

“Really.” I hear him sigh. “Good night, Reese.”

I settle back against the pillows and close my eyes. “Good night, Ford.”

There’s a bluebird in my ear, and a dream girl on my mind.

The fog of the dream clears, although the face in my mind looks suspiciously like Reese.

“Fuck,” I groan, giving my dick a quick stroke. It could punch through drywall.

I lie in bed with my arm over my eyes, willing my morning wood to die a slow death.

Thirteen days of sunshine. Thirteen days of Reese.

She’s become part of my daily routine. Every morning, I greet her the same way—with coffee and a bagel. The rest of the day, we do chores and Reese keeps me company. I should hate it, but I don’t.

The two-way radio crackles, and a melancholy warble fills the air. I lift my arm from my face and blink.

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