Page 5 of Wild and Wrangled

“But she’ll want to see you?” Gus asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“Probably not,” I said. “But I’m the only one out of the four of us who wasn’t at the, uh, wedding.” I stumbled out that word but hoped they didn’t notice.

“Why does that matter?” Gus asked.

“It just does.” I shrugged. Because in Cam’s mind, it meant that I was the only one who hadn’t witnessed her embarrassment. Cam was a prideful woman—not in a bad way. She just cared what other people thought of her—she wanted to be perfect. I blame her mother.

“I think we should let Dusty try,” Wes piped up.

“Me too,” Brooks said.

“Is that because you care about Cam or because you want her out of your bathroom?” Gus asked with a glare in his direction.

“Both.” Brooks shrugged.

Gus rolled his shoulders back and down. “Fine,” he said and then pointed a finger at me. “But you keep your hands to yourself.”

I rolled my eyes. He and Teddy really were perfect for each other, weren’t they? “Cam is my friend,” I said. Well, she used to be. I didn’t know what we were now. Maybe once we got everybody out of the Devil’s Boot, I’d be able to find out.

Chapter 3

Cam

Fifteen Years Ago

Meadowlark High School was already my favorite place, and I’d only been here for a few hours. It was my first day—my first day here, my first day of public school after years of private schools—and the first time I’d ever seen a boy with a nose ring. I could see it—up close and personal—because I’d run straight into him while leaving the main office. My books and class schedule were now scattered all over the floor.

Great.

“Whoa there,” he said. His hands were on my upper arms, which were covered by a navy blue cardigan.

“I—I’m sorry,” I stammered out before looking up at the human wall I’d just hit. Gray eyes stared down at me. Oh.

“It’s okay,” he said with a devilish smile. “I’m used to girls throwing themselves at me.” A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, but I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I didn’t. Instead, I looked down at the mess of my belongings.

As I bent to pick them up, the boy with the gray eyes did, too. “Let me help,” he said, and I stayed quiet. While he started gathering papers and books, I got a better look at him. A mop of blond hair that my mother would say was too long, but I liked it. I think.

He had a sharp jawline and a cleft chin and eyebrows that matched the darker parts of his hair. My gaze snagged on the silver ring through his nostril. I must’ve stared at it for a second too long because he said, “Like it?” while gesturing to his nose with one hand—the other was full of my books. I hadn’t picked up a thing. Distracted, I guess. “Lost a bet with my buddy Wes a few months ago, but it’s grown on me.”

This boy kept talking to me, and I stayed silent. I didn’t know what to say. Did I like it? Yes. Did I want to tell him that? Absolutely not. I also noticed a tattoo on his forearm. I couldn’t tell what it was, and I didn’t want to be caught staring again. Could seventeen-year-olds even have tattoos? Was that legal?

“You’re new here, right?” he asked. This time, I nodded. He stood up, with my books and papers still in one of his hands, and I rose with him. My class schedule was on top of the pile, and I watched him take it in.

“Camille Ashwood,” he read out loud. “Good name.” I wanted to ask what his was, but my stupid tongue still wasn’t working. “Do you know where you’re going for chemistry?”

“How do you know I’m going to chemistry?” I asked.

“She speaks,” he said with a tilted smile. I felt a blush creep up my neck. I wasn’t really a shy girl. I mean, I wasn’t a chatterbox, but I normally knew how to respond to questions. But this guy was just so…pretty. It was intimidating. “It’s on your class schedule, Camille.”

There was something about the way he moved his mouth when he talked that had my attention—the way his top and bottom teethwere always slightly parted no matter what he said—that was kind of hypnotizing.

“Right,” I said.

“So,” he said as he handed my books and schedule back to me, “do you know where you’re going?”

I gave him a quick nod and turned in the other direction.

“Wrong way, Camille,” he called after me. Damn. My face heated as I turned around and walked past him again. When I did, he reached his hand out and said, “I’m Dusty, by the way.”

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