Burn the Wild (Runaway Ranch, #3)

by Ava Hunter

I already hate the way my cock sprung to attention the second I grabbed her wrist to keep her from face planting. Last thing I need is to take care of her. But since I already promised my little brother I’d get her settled, the least I can do is play chauffeur. The sooner she’s at her chalet, the quicker she’s out of my life.

“Well?” she begins. “Well, what?” “Which brother are you?” Her lips quirk. “Dopey?” I clench my jaw. “Ford.” Intrigued, her eyebrow arches. “And you’re a mechanic?” “Bartender. Outdoor activities. Ranch hand. Pick your poison.” “Oh,” she sniffs. That’s right, honey. I’m too low class for you. Not your type and you know it. For some reason, it makes me feel like shit. She’s a city girl. Even the fake country accent she puts on riles my nerves.

“So, you’re what?” I ask. “On the lam?” She gives me a scathing look. “None of your business.” “When you’re on the ranch, it is my business.” I don’t care, don’t want to know, but because Davis will ask, I better get it out of her while I can. “It’s a long story.” She tucks her chin into her shoulder. “Just…pretend I’m not here.” “Already on it.” “And you’re already a pain in my ass,” she snaps back. I take a sharp right onto a thin dirt road. “Good. One thing we agree on, honey.” Her eyes flash with annoyance. “Don’t call me honey.”

Reese faces me, wide-eyed. “All the way out here?” “Privacy, princess. Thought you’d like it.” As Reese gets out of the UTV, she freezes. Closing her eyes, her head inclines to the south. “There’s water around?” “Good ear.” I nod at a pale buttercream two-story chalet to my right. “There’s a lake about ten yards past that chalet.” Her gaze drifts to the forest. “Can I have that one?” I shrug. “Suit yourself.”

“This all you got?” I ask, clearing my throat. “A duffel bag and a guitar?” The smile she gives me is dim. “Sounds like a country song.”

I cross the floor and head into the kitchen. A lace-curtained window over the sink looks out onto the small back porch. The yard’s a tangled, snarled mess. Shit. Annoyed that I care, I turn, ready to tell her goodbye, tell her she’s on her own. But the words catch in my throat when I see her unpacking her duffel bag. A box of hair coloring. A laptop. Some files. A small stack of bright clothing and high heels. A tube of Pringles. My stomach turns. I flinch at the meager contents. That’s it? Everything she needs, everything important to her, crammed into one fancy fucking duffel bag. That’s when I spy a bottle of pills.

I think of Ruby. I think of myself. I think this is getting way more complicated than I need. “Look,” I say, wiping a layer of dust from the countertop. “We don’t want trouble here.” This time, those big green eyes lock onto mine, her lips quirking as if I amuse her. “You think I’m on the run from bad guys? Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

With a sigh, Reese sinks onto the bed. I watch as she unzips her boot from thigh to ankle. Another sigh of relief pops from those pretty pink lips. The tall sides of the boots fall open, exposing slender, tan thighs. Heat licks its way over my spine. Fuck. I jerk away and squeeze my eyes shut to fight the image. Fight the erection that’s popped up in my jeans. But it’s too late. It’s attraction. A dangerous one. Especially with a woman like this. One with secrets. One who makes me want to wring her pretty little neck every time I look at her. Maybe it’s because she’s a mess. Maybe it’s that sad look in her eyes. Either way, I want her out of my head.

I focus on getting the key off the ring. “There’s a general store back at the lodge. Dinner’s from five to eight in the cantina.” She tilts her head. “And how do I get back to the lodge?” “You walk, honey. It’s called roughing it. You don’t like it, you can leave.” “I plan to,” she snaps. “You know, for a cowboy, you surprisingly do not have a way with words, or women, for that matter.” I grunt. “See,” she replies, smug. “My point proven.”

I frown, crossing my arms. “If I had good common sense, I’d say you’re hiding out.” Her chin lifts, a haughty motion that has my cock, once again, springing to life. “So, what if I am? It doesn’t affect you.” “If it affects the ranch, it affects me.” “It won’t.”

I give a nod to her pill bottle. “You ain’t out here to off yourself, are you?” It comes out gruffer than I intend. “Because I don’t want to walk in here tomorrow morning and find you face down on that bed.” Explosives detonate in her eyes. “Then all your problems would be over, right?” I meet her hard stare with one of my own. “Sure you’re not running away?” “I’m sure.” “Nobody likes a liar.” “Good thing you don’t have to like me.”

“Listen, Country Boy, I’ll save you the trouble,” she says with a sad little smile. “I’m just going to take what’s going on in your head and say it out loud. Fuck off, okay?”

We all know why he’s staying in it, even if he won’t say it—to look out for Fallon. If she’s on the circuit, so is he.

“Jim Donovan called me today,” I announce, and my brothers go quiet. Davis’s face storms. “What’d he want?” “Pricks got some nerve,” Charlie mutters. “To offer me a job.” I tug a hand through my hair. “Wants me to be a commentator for the Renegades.” “You’d leave?” Charlie asks. Davis dips his chin. “If I took it, yeah.” I take a sip of my beer, ignoring the way it settles heavily in my stomach. “Y’all drive me bat-shit crazy, anyway.”

“Did you find out what Reese’s story is, Ford?” Ruby asks, settling on Charlie’s lap. Annoyed, I cross my arms. There are too many people bringing up Reese and making her my problem. “It’s none of my business.” “The girl’s on my ranch,” Charlie reminds me, adjusting Ruby in his arms. “We need to know who’s on the property.” Davis accentuates his point with a punch to his keyboard. “I don’t want trouble this year.” I’d roll my eyes, but Davis is right.

“Grady said something about her needing a break,” I mutter. “Rehab?” Davis’s frown deepens. I groan. “She’s not just a girl, you know,” Wyatt says, opening his big fat mouth. How he heard the news through the grapevine, I have no goddamn idea. “She’s Reese Austin. A superstar country singer.” He shoves the last bite of pop-tart in his mouth. “She was in that movie ten years ago about a teenage horse trainer. The hot one who broke her neck.”

“So she is in hiding,” Ruby murmurs. I scrape a hand through my hair, keep it there. “Shit.” Davis looks exasperated. Even Charlie looks annoyed. All signs point to this being something bigger than her just taking a vacation. Just what we need. A big-name celebrity on our ranch, distracting the guests. Hiding out. I lift my arms. “Look, I warned her—” “You warned her?” Dakota cuts in. “Like, what, you’re going to break her legs?” she teases, brow arched. Ruby’s wide blue eyes find me. “She’s out there all alone. What if she’s in trouble?” “The only trouble that girl has is herself.” I cross my arms, hoping to ward off Ruby’s charm. Her

“You should have asked her to dinner,” Ruby admonishes. I snort. “And get another drink splashed in my face? No thanks.” My brothers snicker, and Ruby giggles as she says, “She got you good, Ford.” Dakota smirks. “Can’t be the first time you’ve had a drink tossed in your face.” Fifth time, but I don’t offer that fun fact.

“Fallon’s home,” Dakota breathes. I keep my eyes on my little brother, whose entire body has gone rigid. “She still staying at your place, or is she sleeping in her car?” I ask Dakota. Ever since her kidnapping, Fallon has avoided her cottage in town. Fuck. It’s the wrong thing to say. Dakota’s eyes fill with tears. Davis whips his head to me and glares before cupping his wife’s shoulder. “Make sure she comes to the house.” Wyatt shoves out of his chair, his face suddenly soft and bordering on desperate. “I’ll go with you.” Together, he and Dakota disappear out the door. “Ask Reese to dinner,” Ruby sing-songs. She gives Charlie a little wave and exits.

“Reese,” Davis’s deep voice booms, bringing us back to the problem at hand. “If she’s in trouble, she’s your problem. However long she’s here, I want you on her.” I pry my brain away from the image of me literally on top of Reese. Fucking her slow. Dragging my cock through the slit of her pretty pink pussy. Jesus. I glare at my twin. “What the fuck are you talking about, man?” “She’s your responsibility.” He’s silent for a moment. “We’ll get Otis to take over the trail rides and the rest of the excursions.”

“You can’t do it all, Ford.” “It’s the start of the season,” Charlie says, agreeing with Davis. He’s becoming as responsible as my twin.

I think of what I missed today. A private jet to LA. Drinks at Serpentine. Whatever boring meeting Gavin had set up. I laugh to myself. Old Reese would want that. Would be in heaven.

I’ll go back to my life. I will. As soon as I get better. And this time, I’ll do things on my own terms. Think for myself. Live for myself. Be free.

I don’t want a man. Least of all this one. And it’s clear from the stormy look on Ford’s face that he doesn’t want me either.

I roll my eyes and lean against the doorframe. “What do you want, Ford?” The porch light catches on the angles of his sculpted face. “I didn’t see you in the lodge, so I brought you dinner.” “Oh,” I say, as he shoves the Tupperware into my hands. My mouth waters as I’m hit with wonderful aromas. Freshly baked bread. Mac and cheese. I sniff. Shredded chicken. “I can’t eat all this,” I say before cursing myself. Why did I say that? I could eat it all if I wanted to.

His face reverts to its former hardness. “Yeah, well, try.” His eyes scan my frame and I shiver. “My sister-in-law went to a lot of work for you.”

That’s when a furry sensation wraps itself around my legs. I yelp and jump back. As I glance down, I catch sight of a black cat weaving in between my legs. The cat meows, sounding like the tiniest tea kettle. I smile and dip down to pet her under the chin. “Hey there.” She flops on her back and lets me tickle her belly. Her green eyes match mine. “Are you the unofficial welcome wagon? You’re much better than the current situation.” A grunt or a chuckle comes from Ford and he crouches beside me. “Mouse.” I glance at him. He’s so close I can smell his soapy post-shower scent. “Hate to break it to you, Country Boy, but that’s a cat.” His lips pull into something resembling a smile. “No. This is Mouse.” He reaches down and flips the cat into his arms. She curls up without protest. “And she’s a menace. Just like you.”

As I slip into a sparkly dress, I realize how poorly I packed. But shimmery showgirl attire is all I owned—all I grabbed in my haste to get out of Nashville. After dabbing my cheeks and lips with dusky-rose blush, and adding mascara to my lashes, I stare at myself in the mirror. My hair, now the color of honey and ash, tumbles in unruly waves. I chance a smile. I love it.

How long has it been since I looked at the world with fresh eyes? Breathed clean air? It’s like taking my first step into a life I’ve never met. It’s the wild burn of freedom.

Before I can slip into a full-blown panic spiral, a voice behind me says, “I love your hair.” I whirl around. It’s the girl from the bar, the one who worked with Ford yesterday. She has an entire garden in her tousled strawberry blonde strands. In her violet sundress patterned with honeybees, she looks like summer come to life. I touch my hair, suddenly self-conscious. “Thank you.” “Don’t worry,” she says. Her blue eyes sparkle. “We won’t tell anyone you’re here.”

She tosses me a curious look. “Do you need something?” she asks. My gaze lights on the iced coffee machine. I’d kill for an iced coffee, heavy on the cream and sugar, but I think of the meager twenty in my wallet. “Oh, I…I don’t know.” “Give me a list, and I’ll have it delivered to your room.” Her smile brightens. “With the biggest iced coffee you’ve ever seen.” I shake my head. “You don’t have to do that.” “Of course I do.”

“Are you okay?” Ruby asks, looking concerned. I shake my head, tamp down the dampness in my eyes. “I just think you’re my new favorite human.” Ruby blushes and grins. “Don’t worry about it,” she says when I reach for my wallet. “We’ll charge the groceries to your room. No rush.”

Ruby pockets it, then tilts her head. “Do you need Ford?” Ugh. No. “Yes,” I say. “He’s in the garage.” Ruby laughs. “He’s not so bad. Don’t let him scare you. He’s all bark.” I flash her a grin. “Good thing I can bite.”

“Wait, where are we going?” I ask when I finally reach his side. I stumble on my heels and press my palm against his corded arm to steady myself. He tenses at my touch. Keeps trudging ahead. “You want a job. You can work on the ranch.” My stomach drops. I stop in the middle of the gravel road. “The ranch?” For my first real-world job, I was thinking of something less harrowing. Inside. Comfortable. I’ve never worked outdoors, let alone squatted behind the backend of a cow. “Funny enough, I’ve been assigned the job of being your babysitter,” he says as if it’s the most painful thing in the world. “So, what you’re going to do, honey, is work alongside me this summer.” I flinch. Ford’s upper lip curls. “What’s wrong? Can’t hack it?” He says it like it’s a dare.

“No. I can.”

Her hair’s different. It pisses me off. That platinum mess from yesterday is now a soft honey and ash color that makes her bright green eyes pop. Worse, it’s a wild snarl of waves and curls that fall to the small of her back. With her heart-shaped face and long lashes, Reese is the very worst kind of distraction.

“You need more bracelets,” I tell her dryly. “Don’t think the whole ranch knows you’re coming.” Her nostrils flare. “I like my bracelets.” “Yeah, well, they’ll spook the horses.” She squeaks, jumping onto the grass as we approach a rooster pecking his way down the gravel path. I chuckle. The panic on her face could almost be adorable. “Your ancestors hunted mammoths with a spear, honey. You can walk past a rooster.”

“How was the spaghetti last night?” I ask, testing her. “Delicious,” she says, absentmindedly. I side-eye her. Just as I thought—she didn’t touch a goddamn bite. I grit my teeth but hold my tongue. She’s twenty-six years old. A fully functioning adult. She can survive on her own. Why do I fucking care? I don’t. But she is my responsibility, whether or not I like it.

“You ready to tell me what brings you to Runaway Ranch?” I glance at her beside me, keeping perfect sync with my long strides, even in those stilettos. “It can’t be the cows.” “On the run from the mob,” she says without missing a beat. “Witness protection.” I eye her. She’s fucking with me.

“I needed a break,” she says, picking up the conversation. Her soft voice is clipped, like she’s choosing how much to tell me. I glance over at her. “Is that why my little brother’s helping you?” The dazzling smile on her face drops my insides. My breath catches. Sharp, painful. “You and Grady?” I love my little brother, but goddamn if for one second, I don’t hate him. She laughs. The first light and twinkly sound I’ve heard from her. “No, he’s a friend.” Her smile fades, and her shoulders slump. “I wish I had more of those.”

“Gotta be honest, honey. I’ve never heard of you before.” Reese gasps, but she doesn’t look insulted, she looks pleased. “Good. My songs suck.” A half-smile crosses her face. “They’re all as fake as my hair.” That pulls a chuckle out of me. Curious green eyes flick to mine. “I’ve never heard of you either, Ford ‘Flamethrower’ Montgomery.” The way she drags it out, soft and teasing, has my cock twitching. I give a dry laugh and shrug. “Once upon a time, I played ball.” “Why’d you stop?” “Bad knees. Bad shoulders.”

“And you retired to Montana?” “Something like that,” I rasp and leave it at that. I don’t want to get into Savannah. The kid.

What kid?

A visible shudder wracks her thin frame. “I have a thing about horses.” “A thing?” I ask. Okay, call me curious. She shies away, closer into a corner. Her shoulders hike up toward her ears. “I don’t like them.” Of course she doesn’t. “How do you not like a horse?” I move to the next stall. Inside, my Appaloosa chuffs. “This little fucker is Eephus. He’s tried to kill me numerous times. He’s the most incompetent, useless gelding I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. And I still love the bastard.”

Reese makes a face at me. “What kind of name is Eephus?” I mime tossing a ball. “Means a slow pitch with a high as fuck arc.” Pride heats inside of me. “I used one on Phil Brenna and got the strikeout of the century.” A smile quirks her lips. “Is that your superpower? No shame?” I arch a brow. “No fear.”

“Take that hay there and move it up into that loft.” I shake my head when she reaches for the pile. “Not with your hands.” “So helpful.” She glares at me. “What should I use then?” “This.” I step toward her, pinning her against the wall to reach above her. She’s at least five foot four, but I’ve got almost a foot on her. I stretch up, my libido roaring as my body sweeps against hers. Soft. Hot. Sexy as hell. Fuck. “Ford,” she whispers, and damn if it’s not like the snap of a rein.

I need to get out of her way, give us both space, before I do something I regret. Like kiss the fuck out of her. Clearing my throat, I carefully hand Reese the pitchfork. My gaze trails over the pretty pink flush on her cheeks that matches her lips. “Use this to shovel the hay.” Our eyes remain locked until she turns away from me. “I’ll get right to it.”

Crossing my arms, I watch as she gets to work. Her moves are awkward and reluctant. She’s all legs and attitude as she scoops hay from the pile and moves it to the loft. A darkness settles over me. I swallow hard, tamping down the anger, the ache. She reminds me of Savannah. Spoiled. Bright. Trouble. Dangerous, beautiful trouble. I need Reese off this ranch and out of my mind.

“You need anything?” Wyatt looks at me briefly. “What?” “You got cut off the night you called me.” I squint at him. “Said you did something stupid.” He hesitates before a crooked grin tips his lips. “Lost all my money at blackjack. Planned to ask you for a loan.” I bark a laugh. “Keep dreaming, little brother.”

Fallon speeds by us on her horse, Lawless. Dust and grit cloud the air. “How’s that dirt taste?” I ask Wyatt. “Girl rides like she’s immune to gravity,” he mutters. The brim of his Stetson casts shadows across his face, his eyes. Even without it, the kid’s got shadows. Ever since Fallon was kidnapped and attacked last year, she’s been jumpy as fuck. Wild as hell. If anything could have brought her and Wyatt back together, it was the mess with Aiden King. Only Fallon took about ten steps back from Wyatt and anyone who cared about her. Started sleeping in her truck, or at Davis and Dakota’s. Taking risks with her riding. Surrounding herself with Pappy Starr and her entourage of managers, who are all ready to bet on the next big thing. And that’s her. It’s taken a toll on the entire family, including my little brother. Wyatt misses her.

“Fuck.” I whistle as Fallon flies by us in a blast of dust. “That horse is running like he pays the vet bills.” “Shit,” Wyatt hisses.