Page 11 of Wild and Wrangled

“You know exactly what you look like,” Cam said pointedly. “You always have.”

“What if I want you to tell me, though?” I couldn’t help playing with her. It came so easy.

“Too bad. Women who got left at the altar don’t have to do anything they don’t want to do for at least a few hours afterward.”

“Does that mean you’re ready to talk about it, then?” I asked. We had avoided the subject until now. Cam didn’t like to be pushed, and I didn’t like to be reminded that she was engaged to someone else, or at least, she used to be, so it had been a win-win.

She shifted her eyes away from mine and started drawing mindless circles on the table with her pointer finger. “There’s not much to talk about,” Cam said. That was a lie. There was everything to talk about. “I showed up. He didn’t. It’s pretty cut and dried.”

It didn’t sound “cut and dried” to me. It sounded messy, but Cam didn’t like messy things.

“Hey,” I said. “Look at me.” She didn’t. “Ash,” I said more firmly. Her eyes flicked up to mine like they couldn’t help it. “You didn’t deserve that.” Cam always thought everything was her fault. I knew the way she was probably talking to herself in her head, and it made my teeth clench. “I need to know that you know you didn’t deserve that.”

“I think I did deserve it,” she said quietly. I wanted to throw the table. I wanted to get it out of my way, so I could hold her, but before I could even think about doing anything, Cara brought our waters and our drink.

“Your food will be right out,” she said again only to me andwalked away. I looked at Cam, whose face had gone blank. No more talking, I guess—at least about the wedding. I opened both of the straws and put them in the giant glass of blue margarita.

“This is massive,” she said, eyeing the glass. She was wearing a small smile now. “And looks disgusting.”

“It is both of those things,” I said. “You’re going to hate it, but you’re also going to love it.”

“What does it even taste like?” she asked.

I leaned over toward the middle of the table to take a sip. “Artificial blue,” I said afterward.

“Well,” she sighed. “Blueismy favorite color.”

I know.

Chapter 6

Cam

Gus called Dusty to check in while we were eating dinner.

Dusty handed the phone to me. “Hello?”

“You doing okay?” Gus’s voice was low and concerned.

“I’m fine,” I said. “How’s Riley?”

“Good. She was wiped out from today.” That made two of us. “Fell asleep on the couch about an hour ago.”

“Thank you for taking care of everything,” I said quietly.

“Always, Cam. We’ll talk about everything tomorrow, okay? I just wanted to check and see how you were.”

“I’m fine,” I said again. “All things considered.”

“Okay. Well, I’ve got Riley, and my dad has a bed for you. I figured…” Gus trailed off. And that’s when I realized: I couldn’t go to my house because it was technically Graham’s. That was a hill to climb another day—today, I was too tired to even think about it.

“You figured right,” I said, grateful that he didn’t try to elaborate further. “Thank you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Be safe, Cam. Good night.”

“Night,” I said before hanging up and handing the phone back to Dusty. I didn’t even know where my phone was. It was with my stuff in my dressing room last time I saw it. I wasn’t ready to face the music yet, but that phone call from Gus was essentially the orchestra warming up.

So, after dinner, Dusty and I drove back to Rebel Blue Ranch—the Ryder family’s home and one of the largest cattle ranches in Wyoming—mostly in silence. Our day was coming to an end. My sense of self-preservation, which was always so fleeting around him, kicked in as we drove, and I retreated back into my head.

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