Page 124 of Chasing the Wild
It doesn’t change the fact that I’m a mess of emotions. I’m going to have to borrow Kayce’s truck to get down to Crimson Ridge and leave it at the mechanics in order to collect my car when they open. I figure Colt can sort out giving him a ride down the mountain to fetch it—I left a note to that effect on the kitchen island apologizing for taking the vehicle without any warning.
I made up an excuse about an emergency with Evaline as to the reason for my sudden departure before anyone in the house was awake.
Although my heart is racing, knowing fully well that Colt usually gets up around this time. So every second longer I take getting my ass into this truck and off this mountain, increases the risk of having to face him and say a proper goodbye.
As much as I desperately want that, I also don’t know if my heart can take it.
I’ve dumped my bag in the back seat and opened the driver’s door, tossing my purse on the passenger side when I feel him.
My fingers curl into the metal frame.
“You got somewhere to be?” Colt’s voice is thick with sleep, or maybe with lack of sleep. If his nights have been anything like mine lately, it’ll be the latter.
I keep hold of the door, lifting my eyes to meet his where he leans a hip against the front of the truck. Dressed in his jeans and flannel shirt rolled to his elbows, even though it’s cold out, and looking every inch the love of my life.
“I can’t stay.” My eyes hold his. Fuck. My bottom lip is wobbling already.
His brow furrows. Confusion passes over his features, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Chy saw us.” I swallow and it’s about all I can manage to get out. “She promised not to say anything to Kayce, as long as I leave.”
That brings a hard line to his jaw. The creases around his eyes deepen, and his shoulders visibly stiffen inside his shirt.
“We knew I was always going to be leaving. It’s easier this way.” My attention travels up to the house. Even though I know there’s not much chance either of them will be up at this time of the morning, I’m especially paranoid after Chy’s threats last night.
Colt watches me, looking like he’s chewing over words to say. Then he simply nods.
My chest feels like someone has ransacked it. Stuffing my heart inside a torture device.
Is this going to be it? Is that all this moment will ever be for us?
I don’t think I can face anymore pain, of saying goodbye when I can’t say the kind of goodbye we both deserve. When in fact, I don’t want to say goodbye at all. I want to stay right here and live out my days with this wonderful, captivating, rugged man.
So I dip my chin to try and hide the quiver of my bottom lip and stinging tears pricking behind my eyes, and slide into the driver’s seat.
But before I can shut the door behind me, Colt grabs the frame. He fills the space, standing still, not touching or reaching for me, but he’s right there all the same. His knuckles are white where he holds onto the metal as if he could crush it with one hand.
My eyes snap up to his, finding an expression on his face that is entirely wild and filled with a collision of emotion behind those hazel eyes I’ll never stop seeing when I close my own.
“Layla…” He clears his throat, pauses, then when Colt speaks, his voice is quiet and rough. “Find that sweet spot, angel. Take your aim and hit that target. You can be anything you want. I have no doubt you’ll succeed. That good heart of yours is tougher than you think. If you can survive an old bastard like me, you can reach the stars and have them falling at your feet, too.”
With those words, the ones that break my foolish heart, my cowboy turns, and is gone.
Chapter 35
Iflop down on my too-soft bed. Every limb cries out in agony from how hard I’ve been working lately. Soreness extends all over from how relentlessly I’ve thrown myself into each and every opportunity presenting itself to remain busy. I’ve spent the past fifteen minutes scalding myself under my hell-water shower in an effort to get rid of the smell of cow shit, or try to loosen the tension between my shoulders.
Yet my heart is officially the sorest muscle of them all.
Five months haven’t dulled the ache that sits like a solid mass inside my rib cage, reminding me every single damn day just how much I miss the rugged cowboy I left behind when I drove my Honda out of Crimson Ridge without looking back.
Colt occupies my waking thoughts more often than I care to admit. Then, at night, he fills my dreams. I wake up thinking he’s there with the mattress dipping beside me beneath his weight. I wake up turned on and moaning into my pillow because I’ve had the most vivid dreams of his hands and his tongue and his cock sliding into me. I wake up hearing his raspy voice whispering in my ear that I’m the best thing that ever happened to him.
Truth be told, I’m a fucking mess. Layla Birch is back in the season of life called surviving, and I’m barely managing that ona good day. Only, this time my survival mode is lessRamen and going to bed with a grumbling tummy,and moremy tears have soaked through my pillow because I’m an emotional fucking wreck.
I mean, I’ve been blessed with job offers for all my work placements. Not only that, but every single location I’ve worked in during the past five months has paid handsomely for an apprenticeship, and they’ve paid overtime. Turns out having Devil’s Peak Ranch on my resume has opened up a whole world of connections, where I’ve had stables and ranches and all sorts of businesses emailing me asking if I’d be interested in working with them.
The cherry on top of that pretty pie: I haven’t had to pick up a single bar shift since I left Crimson Ridge. The income from my placements these past few months has been more than enough to meet all payments for Evaline’s care.
