Page 32 of Wild As Her

She looks at me like I’m a wild horse she’s already figured out. “You’re all talk.”

But then before I know it, she grabs the collar of my T-shirt, yanks me down, and kisses me.

It’s fast and clumsy, and I forget how to breathe.

And when she pulls back, she smirks. “Guess you’re not the only one with grit.”

She walks away like she didn’t just change my whole damn life.

I wake up before the sun even thinks about rising. Body sore, my mind is a mess. I had nightmares again. Sometimes they stay gone, sometimes they’re pretty bad. I’ve just come to terms that this is what I have to live with now: struggling to sleep after my time in the military. And last night I couldn’t stop thinking about Cami. The only thing that seems to clear my mind are my rides with her.

And she would never go on a ride with me today. Not after last night. She’d probably shoot me and bury me in the pasture somewhere where no one would find me. I can’t get the look that she gave me out of my mind. It gutted me. She thinks I hate her and that this is a game. It couldn’t be further from the truth.

The lodge is quiet because nobody is up at this insane hour. The coffee machine wheezes like it’s already over this day, and I’m halfway considering crawling back into bed.

But the second my boots hit the dirt outside, the memory ofher mouth on mine at sixteen, wild, unstoppable, burns hotter than the July sun.

Damn it, Cami.

I throw myself into work. Fence needs mending. Water lines need checking. Tucker’s supposed to be on mineral check this week, but he’s been busy with extra wrangler tasks since we’re short-handed right now.

I’m mid-shovel, sweat dripping, when Weston strolls into the barn.

“You look like hell,” he says.

“Thanks. I’ll work on that.”

He gives me a look. “You need sleep.”

I continue to shovel, ignoring him.

He leans against the stall, crossing his arms. “You hear about that old Wilder saddle?”

My shovel stills. “What saddle?”

“Her granddad’s. The one he always used. Saw it in town for sale. Maggie said something to Mack, and Mack said something to Jenna, and Jenna told me.”

I wipe my arm across my face. “You get it?”

“Nope. Figured you’d want to.”

My heart trips. “Where is it?”

“Tack shop on Main Street. Still open ‘til six.”

I nod, already reaching for my hat.

Weston squints at me. “You gonna tell her?”

“I did.”

Weston whistles through his teeth. “How did that go over?”

“She’s Wilder mad,” I mutter. “Which means she’s mad forever and also not talking to me.” And beneath that mad lies a whole bunch of hurt. And that’s what cuts into me.

He snorts. “God, you’re in deep.”

“Shut up,” I grumble.

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