Page 100 of Burn the Wild

“Reese is in a chalet,” I growl.

“She’ll be gone by then.” Charlie grins. His eyes dare me to say otherwise. “Won’t she?”

She will be, and a fire burns deep in my gut at the thought. But there’s no other option. We’re friends with benefits. That’s how it stays.

Before I can rebut, my eyes snag on two overnight bags sitting by the front door.

“Y’all goin’ someplace?” I ask.

“Bozeman,” Charlie calls out, stomping down the hall. “Overnighter.”

I drift toward Ruby. Her small hands arrange stems.

“Those.” I point to a stem of small blue bulbs. My throat bobs. “She’ll like those.”

“Bluebells,” Ruby says, giving the stem a delicate sniff.

Bluebells for my Bluebird.

“They’re fairy flowers. They mean strength.” Her blue eyes flick to me. “Love.”

I shake my head. “That’s your forte, not mine.”

As Ruby works, I glance down at the table. Beneath the wrapping papers, my gaze snags on paperwork. Medical paperwork. Before I can get a good look, a large hand slams down, blocking my view.

“Nosy bastard,” Charlie mutters.

“I’m your big brother,” I tell him, punching a finger in his chest. “It’s my job.”

Charlie rolls his eyes, snatching up the papers. Then he kisses his wife, grabs his Stetson, and heads out the door.

Worry rising inside me, I glance at Ruby. “You okay, honey? Say the word and I drop him in a lake.”

Ruby sets down the bouquet, a bright kaleidoscope of color. She tilts her blonde head, staring at me with serious blue eyes. “I am. Are you?”

“Yeah, actually, I am.”

Never been better. I’m happy. Reese, with her big green eyes and sweet kisses, has unraveled me.

Ruby beams. “It’s nice, Ford. You’re not the relationship grinch.”

I pinch my brow. “Fairy Tale, you’re killing me.”

She bats her eyes at me. “You learn why she’s here yet?”

I give in. Fuck it. “No,” I tell her. “She won’t talk to me. Nothing deep at least.”

Ruby hands me the bouquet. “Maybe you give her a truth to get hers?”

Considering it, I rub a hand over my jaw. “Give a truth, huh?”

One truth. Maybe that’s all it would take to get Reese’s.

The two-way radio crackles at one a.m. “Mayday, mayday, you fuckers.” Ford’s snarl floats through the receiver. “I’m in the barn if anyone wants to take a midnight stroll.”

Worry curdles my gut and I slip out of bed. I find a flannel shirt Ford left behind and put it on, the hem grazing the apex of my thighs.

Dead of night, I race across the farm. There’s a light on in the barn and a dark shadow crossing the pasture at a slow lope. My heartbeat picks up.

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