Page 100 of Wild As Her

I can tell my sister. I can tell Ollie. Hell, I can scream it into the Wyoming wind. But somehow if I look Cami in the eye and say it, it feels like there’s a chance she might not love me back the same. I need to be the man that she can be proud of and trust. I’m trying desperately to be that man for her.

I’m a damn coward. I hate that I can fight my way back to Bridger Falls from the lowest points of my life, rebuild a ranch from ashes, take blow after blow to my reputation, but when it comes to her? My throat closes up. My heart panics.

I’m afraid. Afraid she won’t love me back. Afraid I’ll ruin the one good, wild, honest thing I’ve ever had. Afraid she’ll see my dad when she looks at me.

That last one sticks a little more than the others. I press my hand against my chest, trying to ease the weight of it.

Every day, I try to prove I’m not him. That I’m not the man who wrecked our family name, who lied and cheated and dragged the Jessop legacy through the mud. But sometimes I catch my own reflection and see the same shadows in my eyes. That shadows that fight. But deep down in my gut I know that we fight for different things. I fight for the people I love, and my father fought for his own gain.

Cami has every reason not to trust me. And still, she let me in. A little. Enough to crack me open.

And now here I am, aching for her.

Not just her body, though, hell, the want for her claws under my skin like wildfire, but her laugh and her stubbornness. The way she fights for what she loves. The way she challenges me to be better, every damn day and everyone around her.

She’s the only thing that feels real to me right now. This show might save the ranch, but Cami? She savedme.

Just a few weeks left of filming and pretending I’m not already hers in every way that matters. Jenna said to wait. After the show, I can tell her everything. But that feels like forever. Like asking a drowning man to hold his breath just a little longer.

But I will. Because she’s worth it. All the ache. The fear. The waiting.

I’ll survive this, somehow. I’ll fight my way through it, just like I have everything else. Because if there was one thing I know for certain in this whole damn mess, it was this:

Cami is the only future I want. And I’ll wait as long as it takes to have it.

Chapter 24

Cami

If I was a Cowboy by Miranda Lambert

The barn smells like cedar shavings and leather, but to me it smells like home. It's quiet out here, the quiet that settles into your bones. The quiet I used to chase as a kid when everything inside the house felt too loud, too tense. Now I'm grown, and somehow it still feels the same. Like this place is the only part of the world that makes sense.

I should be in bed. It's late enough the moon's high and the stars are showing off, but I can't sleep.

So here I am, kneeling in front of the water spigot near the stalls, trying to fix a busted pipe that started leaking. Like I’ve got something to prove. To whom exactly, I don’t know. Maybe my mom. The wrench in my hand is too big, or maybe I’m just too angry to make it work right. Either way, I’m losing the fight.

I’m tired of fighting. I don’t mind earning the things that I get. But fighting for them is exhausting. Like respect. People like Granger and Jace who don’t respect me, want to hurt me or stealfrom me. And they’ve been awfully quiet lately. I wonder what their next move will be, and that’s another fight I’m tired of fighting. Always being on edge, waiting for the next punch to land. Then there’s Jack. The one constant through all this who makes me feel safe. And for that I’m grateful. I’m still worried about the ranch. I wonder if I’ll ever truly bring my dreams to life here. But I know that with Jack around, it’s going to somehow be okay. I’m so confused by everything with him. I love him so much; I want him so badly. But does he truly want me? And what if we don’t work out? I’ll have to walk away from the ranch and him. And the last part I couldn’t handle. I’d walk away from this entire ranch and all my dreams for him. But I know he’ll never let me do that. He cares about me and my dreams. Something no one has done for me before.

"Come on," I mutter, twisting it the wrong way for the third time. "Rusty, pain-in-the-ass?—"

"You talking to the pipe or yourself?"

I freeze.

Jack leans in the doorway, arms crossed, moonlight catching on the mess of his hair. He looks tired. Soft. Like he was in bed, and I woke him up somehow.

"What are you doing out here?" I gripe, mostly to cover the way my heart just launched into my throat.

"Could ask you the same thing."

"Fixing something,” I mutter.

He steps closer, boots scuffing the dirt floor. "Looks like you could use a hand."

I glare up at him. "I’m fine."

"Uh-huh."

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