Page 54 of Chasing the Wild
There’s a shuffle and some murmuring, and some of the group move off toward the barn. Others head for a handful of the vehicles. They must be making use of the horses to round up the cattle today. Mr. Pearly Whites gives me another little touch to the edge of his hat as he swings into the cab of his truck.
Their engines roar into life, and one by one, they jolt off over the muddy track in the direction of the far paddocks where the cattle are located. A chorus of voices drift on the snowy air as the others head toward the barn. Meanwhile, flakes of powdery snow silently fall thicker and faster. It has barely started sticking yet, but I imagine if conditions carry on this way by tomorrow, the mountain road will become even more treacherous, perhaps even impassable.
I begin to wonder if we might get cut off from town again, barely five minutes after the crew managed to open the road all the way up to the ranch entrance.
Colt hasn’t left to join the others. He’s thumping around, looking for something in his truck, and I guess this is the moment when we have to face each other in the cold light of day.
I take a steadying breath, and walk down toward his parked vehicle. Why do I feel like I’m having to coach myself through this? Nothing to worry about, we can both be professional. I’m just checking in with my boss.
Totally professional. Not at all like this is the man I begged to touch me and make me come not even twelve hours ago. The man who left my pussy tingling and whose bulging cock I can’t stop daydreaming about.
My stomach is a riot of fluttering wings as I approach the hood, my coffee still clutched in my hands. Something about this feels like trying to coax a feral dog out of hiding.
He could come gently, or might need a muzzle.
“Uhh, do you need me to help with the cattle round up today?” I try to keep my voice cheery. Like I would sound every morning when I slide him a cup of coffee across the kitchen island, or offer to fix us both breakfast.
Not like a girl who can’t stop thinking about his tongue pressing into my mouth or what he said last night.
Then tell me why I’m spending every night talking myself out of visiting the bedroom just down the hall.
“No.” He doesn’t even look my way. Just continues to ransack the cab of his vehicle looking for god knows what.
Okayyy…
“Are you sure you don’t need more help? I honestly don’t mind?”
Colt slams his palm into the outer panel of the truck so hard I’m certain there must be a dent left in the metal. The force of the noise makes me jump.
“Christ, Layla. Just do your fucking job.” He pins me with a glare that is all too familiar by now, but no less intimidating. “And if I catch you trying to sneak off and get out of doing your duties by leaving the stables today, I’ll put you over my damn knee.”
“So this issomething Colt puts on for you boys every year?” I’m sitting on the flipped-down tailgate of someone’s truck, watching the flames dance in the huge bonfire set up by the cowboys earlier this evening. Plumes of orange sparks soar into the inky black sky as logs crack and spit out bursts of heat.
“You betcha. Every year around this time. We pitch in and help him out with the midwinter check on the full herd, and in return he throws a BBQ and bonfire. It doubles as a thank you for the mountain road crew.” The polite cowboy I met this morning stands with an elbow propped on the side of the truck and has a beer in hand. Turns out his name is Brett and he works across a few different ranches around Crimson Ridge.
What has surprised me the most about this bonfire tonight is that this is evidently a thing Colt puts on annually, purely out of the goodness of his heart. Considering he’s ready to march people off his property at gunpoint and threatens to kneecap them like some kind of cowboy gangster, I’m struggling to believe what I’m hearing.
There are new layers I’m discovering to Colton Wilder every day, it would seem.
“Are there no other women on Devil’s Peak, or what?” I glance around the gathering of men—some of whom I recognize from earlier, and others I assume must be the roading crew who have shown up. But it is decidedly an all-sausage affair, and I’m sure they are all more than conscious that I’m the only female present.
I certainly am.
“Well, there hasn’t been a woman around up here before, so wives and girlfriends never bothered coming along. I guess it just became a routine after a while.”
Clumps of snowflakes continue to drift down, one lands on my face, instantly melting against my cheek.
It’s more than a little magical.
And there’s never been a woman here. Before me.
I can’t let myself fixate on that detail, it doesn’t mean anything. In fact, all it proves is that Colt keeps his women elsewhere, and they don’t feature in his life beyond the bedroom.
Oh, god. I promised myself I wouldn’t think of Colt and his bed and agonizingly long, snowy nights in that house, knowing he’s just a couple of doors away from mine.
Especially not after how much of an asshole he was earlier.
You can bet I spent the entire day doing every single one of my jobs to absolute perfection. There’s not a patch left un-mucked or unattended to. Each stall is completely spotless. I’ll be sure to fill all the horses in tomorrow on how much of a grouchy dickhead their owner is. I’m pretty sure they’re all on my side by now, anyway.
