Page 95 of Wild and Wrangled

“So when I asked you how you ended up in the cabin, you didn’t think that was a good time to bring it up?”

“No,” Dusty said. “I really didn’t.”

I felt overwhelmed. I felt mad and sad and frustrated, and I didn’t want him here. I didn’t want to be around him. I needed space.

“I need you to go,” I said calmly.

“Cam…” Dusty tried to reach for me.

“You should go. Just leave. That’s what you do, isn’t it?”

“Please don’t say that, Ash. I came back…for you.”

That’s when I delivered the landing blow. “Yes, you did. But you should have stayed gone.”

Chapter 41

Cam

When I got in my car, I banged on the steering wheel a few times in frustration. Goddammit.I turned my car on and drove straight for Rebel Blue. I needed to talk to someone. How did things get so messed up?

Yesterday, I thought Dusty and I had a guaranteed future. Today, I wasn’t so sure. And it wasn’t just about the house. Maybe I was wrong—maybe what I felt for him wasn’t something new, built to last. Maybe these were the same feelings of that seventeen-year-old girl, so desperate to be loved, ricocheting back on me, and I couldn’t see the reality in front of my face.

The thought made my stomach turn, and I started to question everything.

My thoughts blazed like a wildfire through my brain as I drove until I ended up on Wes and Ada’s doorstep.

I probably should’ve called or texted first, but oh, well. I knocked on the door.

Wes opened it a few seconds later, wearing jeans and awhite T-shirt. His feet were bare, and his dog, Waylon, was at his side—like always.

“Cam?” There was worry in his voice. I could only imagine what I looked like. “What’s wrong?” He stepped out onto the porch and put his hands on my shoulders, steadying me.

“Is Ada home?” I asked.

“She had a client meeting—I can call her. Find out when she’ll be back?”

“No,” I said, deflating a little. “It’s, um, it’s fine. I’ll just talk to her later.”

Wes’s eyes were brimming with concern. “Do you want to come in? I’m no Ada, but I’m a good placeholder until she gets here.”

I chewed on my bottom lip for a second before I nodded. Wes led me inside, and Waylon licked my hands on the way in. Ada and Wes had slowly been remodeling this house on Wes’s slab of Rebel Blue. They weren’t done yet, but every time I came here, there was something new to explore.

Wes led me toward the couch, and I couldn’t help but flop down on it. He sat in the big comfy chair across from me and pulled out his phone. “I’ll text Ada and tell her you’re here,” he said.

“Sorry for barging in,” I responded, suddenly self-conscious.

“Don’t apologize,” Wes said. “What’s going on?”

I grabbed one of the pillows off the couch and hugged it over my face. “Dusty,” I said into the pillow.

“Sorry,” Wes said. “I didn’t quite catch that, but I think you might have said Dusty?” I nodded. “Ah, I heard you two were canoodling.”

I took the pillow off my face and glared at him. “Canoodling, really?”

Wes smiled, dimples on display—my daughter got those, too—and shrugged. “You are, though, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” I said. “But also maybe not anymore.”

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