Chasing The Wild (Crimson Ridge Book 1)

The past two days were supposed to be full of all things Layla.

I should have been soaking up her feather soft kisses and running my mouth over her thighs and devouring the way her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks when I press my lips to her forehead.

Instead, the road up the mountain was reopened ahead of fucking schedule, my son is back on the ranch for the first time in weeks, and he’s brought his piece of ass from town with him—who he’s managed to get pregnant, no less—and this feels like all my nightmares have coalesced.

Like blood clotting an open wound, the worst possible sequence of events have formed a thick, gooey mess everywhere I turn.

Now, we’re all stuck under the same roof together, while Layla is still here, and my final chance to spend time with her has been ripped away. I don’t really know what I expected those last moments to bring. But does that fucking matter? Either way, there’s now a gaping hole of unknown where my opportunity to hold her and openly stare at her over my morning coffee should have been. Maybe there was a tiny piece of me that thought Kayce might not come back, and that we’d be granted another extension to this thing between us… but then what?

What did I goddamn think was going to happen after the inevitable moment that hammer fell? A looming point in time when Layla would head down the mountain, collect her car from the mechanic in Crimson Ridge, then disappear out of my life for good.

Something I do know, is that I’ve never been fucking busier. Which is absolutely because I have to stay away from Layla and not keep stealing glances at her, and try my damnedest to keep a lid on the roaring sensation inside my chest that threatens to boil over at any moment. That’s all I can do. My only defense is to ensure my body and mind remain occupied with fencing and the cattle and riding out to the furthest reaches of this ranch. While every second I stare at Devil’s Peak, a deeply charged longing and wistfulness echoes around my brain like a thunderstorm, wishing Layla was right alongside me.

Of course, I could invent a reason for us to take the horses and head off somewhere secluded together. Of course, I could. It wouldn’t be difficult to come up with a job that required both of us, but now that Kayce is back, those kinds of things needing done out here would naturally fall to him. There would be one too many questions if I tried to include Layla in the picture instead, and I’m too fucked up by the unexpected intrusion of my own goddamn son returning to be able to think clearly.

Hence why I’ve disappeared, on my own. Again.

From what I can tell, the beautiful girl with silky curls and the greenest eyes I’ve ever had the fortune to wake up beside has been doing much the same. She’s busied herself with the horses from dawn until dusk, and I don’t fucking blame her.

It’s taken every ounce of my self-control not to seek her out while she’s been working. Another reason why I’ve taken to riding out to the furthest boundaries these past couple of days.

I don’t trust myself not to touch her.

Any second I’m near, the temptation is too fucking powerful, a force drawing me to put my hands on her.

And not purely in a sexual way, either. My fingertips itch to stroke a tendril of hair behind her ear, to drag Layla against my chest and inhale her sweetness, to feel the tiny puff of air gust past her lips against my neck when she laughs at something stupid I’ve said that isn’t funny, but she seems to find it amusing all the same.

While I’ve been out roaming in the open and wrangling barbed wire and fixing posts just to keep my hands busy, I keep replaying every interaction since we first met. The way she looked at me at the gas station that day made me feel like I was twenty years younger and I don’t know what fucking came over me to talk with her and flirt a little, but it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

Would I change a thing, knowing who she was?

The worst part of me—the selfish asshole who wants to do everything in his power to keep this girl—knows I wouldn’t.

It’s getting damn near dark as I get closer to the yard and the barn. Up ahead, the headlights of Kayce’s truck flick off, and the idling motor cuts, which tells me he must have just gotten back from feeding out while I’ve been in my self-imposed exile at the southernmost boundary on the ranch.

“You always were fucking pedantic about those fences,” Kayce calls out, dragging his frame from the truck cab and then slams the door behind him. Shaking his head in my direction, he leans up against the tailgate waiting for me to draw nearer. Who knows where his pregnant girlfriend—or whatever it is that she is to him—is hiding out in the house. He certainly hasn’t made an effort to explain things between him and this girl, Chyannah, and I haven’t been in a mood to ask or have a conversation lasting longer than about five minutes. For the time being it seems we’re all ignoring the glaringly obvious pregnant elephant in the room.

Just fucking fantastic.

“Yeah, well, you want something done right you gotta do it yourself around here,” I grunt, swinging down from the saddle.

He chuckles and scuffs a boot in the dirt.

“Hey, so it’s only a week until Layla finishes her contract up here, right?”

On hearing her name, my neck heats, and every muscle in my shoulders stiffens like a board. At least Kayce is used to me scowling at him all the time, because that’s the only expression I can muster upon hearing her name in his mouth.

“Something like that.” Muttering, I fist the reins, folding the leather on itself.

Kayce toes the ground with his boot. “Look, I don’t know if you know, but I’m pretty sure it’s her birthday not long after she leaves here.”

My knuckles have gone white. Of course I fucking know. Her birthday is the twelfth of March, and I’ve already given her a present, and I want these two intruders to fuck right off so that I can enjoy having her all to myself.

But instead of saying all that, my teeth grind. I run my hand over the horse’s neck to ground me, and I grunt something that could pass as a response.

“Chy and me, we thought it’d be fun to take her down to Crimson Ridge tomorrow. Give her a proper night out, especially since she’s been trapped up here for weeks. It’s that spring festival they put on every year. There’s gonna be tons of people in town for it. I bet that girl can’t wait to get out and hang with others her own age.” He crosses his arms and flashes a typical Kayce smirk, and not for the first time in the past forty-eight hours, I want to smack my own son in his mouth. “No offense, old man, but Layla must be more than ready to escape this mountain and get back to normality.”

Jesus Christ. I’m glaring at the gravel and fucking grateful for the fading light, because there is a ball of emotion wrestling inside my chest. On one hand, I’m furious that Kayce thinks he has any right to even look at Layla, considering the fact he’s got a pregnant chick sitting in my house on my ranch doing nothing but using the Wi-Fi, leaving candy wrappers everywhere and binge watching trash TV. On the other, he’s just picked open a scabbed wound. The part of me that worries maybe Layla does feel like she’s been trapped on this ranch.

What if she can’t wait to escape here… to escape me?

I have to work hard to dislodge the lump occupying my throat.

“Have you actually asked Layla what she wants?” I huff out a reply. It’s the best I can do while trying to keep my temper from flaring.

“Nah, but she’ll be cool with it.” He drums his fist on the back of the truck. “I think she’s still working in the barn. Since you’re headed over there anyway, can you let her know that’s the plan for tomorrow? I’m fucking starving, there had better be some leftovers lying around I can heat up.” Kayce barely gives me a second glance, jogging off toward the house while I’m left staring at the back of his head.

Just like that. He’s going to most likely eat all the food, leave dirty fucking dishes everywhere, and wants to take Layla to a bar in town tomorrow.

I hate everything about this.

Blowing out a long breath, I steel myself to head into the barn. To the place where I honestly have no idea what I’m going to find once I’m inside. Is Layla going to be anything but pissed off with seeing my face after I’ve been an asshole and avoided her for two whole days?

How do I not drop to my knees and tell her I’ve laid feverishly awake both nights, about two seconds away from sneaking into her room and scooping her up to bring her into my bed, just so I can hold her.

When I get inside, the barn lights are still glowing and soft music drifts from somewhere down the far end near the tack room. Fuck. That constricting band tightens around my chest, knowing that any second now, I’m going to see her. I’m going to see her, and I can’t reach out for her exactly like my soul craves to.

As the clip of hooves and scuff of my boots announces our arrival, I see movement, and that’s when Layla comes into focus. She’s carrying a saddle and pauses, eyes locked on me, pink lips slightly parted.

Her hair falls over her shoulders in two long braids, but it’s her eyes I’m immediately drawn to. Even from here it’s obvious they’re reddened and puffy and it twists a knife in my gut to know without a shadow of a doubt that my girl has been crying.

“Fuck. Layla.” I’m moving before I can think. I want to call her baby, or angel, or anything to let her know that she means the goddamn world to me. But there’s also a rope wrapped and knotted around my tongue, knowing that even though Kayce is inside and it’s just the two of us right now, we can’t risk anyone seeing or hearing something that is none of their fucking business… just in case.

“Colt.” Her eyes widen and dart over my shoulder. Even though I know no one is behind me, that subtle glance makes me falter. “Don’t. It’s fine.” She shakes her head and bites down on the inside of her cheek, continuing to put the saddle away.

“That’s more than enough for one day.” I keep my voice low. Beginning to sort out the horse beside me, but keeping an eye on whatever Layla is still fussing around with at the same time. I know she’s avoiding going back to the house. It’s what I’m fucking doing, too.

“Like I said, it’s fine.”

“Layla…”

“Colt.”

I take a deep inhale, wishing like hell there was any kind of damn alternative other than this scenario panning out right now. “They want to take you down to town tomorrow night since it’s going to be your birthday soon. Kayce asked me to let you know.”

“Tomorrow?” She finally stops and looks at me. Eyes going round.

“Yup.” I lift my cap up and dig my hands through my hair before wedging it back on my head with a touch more force than necessary. “I didn’t know what to say when Kayce approached me about it outside. He wants to give you a night out to celebrate or some shit like that, and unless there’s a good reason not to go…” I falter. Fuck, I don’t really know what to say. Because at that very moment, I hear it. There’s no good reason for her to decline their offer of going out without raising questions or suspicions. We must both reach the same conclusion at the same time as those unspoken words hang in the night air between us.

“Yeah. I get it.” Her lips twist. “It’s a nice gesture.” God, I hate that her eyes are so red—that she’s obviously been upset. I just want to pull her into a hug and cook her a meal and have her cuddled into me in front of the fire.

“You don’t have to.” I hold her eyes, trying to convey everything that I want to say, but can’t.

“Nah. It’s fine.” She shrugs and walks over to pick up her phone, tapping the screen to turn the music off.

Layla looks like she’s ready to leave, and I’m trying to find a reason to keep her here just a little longer. Something that is neutral ground, just a regular conversation between two people. Anything that surely could be a perfectly normal reason to stall this girl from leaving.

“The money thing…” I blurt out. That causes her green eyes to whip up to meet mine. “Just leave it be between me and Kayce. You don’t need to bring it up with him.” Shoving my hands in my pockets, I take a step in her direction but keep my hands firmly tucked away. No risk of reaching out to grab her if I stand like this. None. At. All.

She immediately flushes and looks flustered as all hell, and that was entirely the opposite of what I wanted to happen by bringing the topic up.

“No. Honestly…”

“Layla. Listen to me. My son is a shithead who screwed you out of money that was rightfully yours. As long as everything is squared away on your end, it’s really between me and Kayce to resolve now anyway.”

I study her reaction. She looks like she wants to argue. There’s a ticker tape of emotions playing out across her features, like she can’t decide whether to admit defeat or get into it with me.

Eventually, she folds. Her shoulders sink, and she drops her eyes. “Thank you.” Her voice is whisper soft.

“Don’t even think about it. You’ve got enough to handle, leave my asshole son to me.”

Her chin dips in a nod, and she starts to move. Fuck, this feels so wrong. There’s an endless horizon of things I want to be able to say and yet nothing rises for me. It’s cold and bleak and the weight of that sits heavy in my chest.

As Layla draws closer, having to pass by me in the central aisle between the horse’s stalls, I intentionally step in the way, partially blocking her path. Not touching her, but the small motion halts her progress. She still won’t look at me, but I see the way her chest rises and falls a little faster.

With my hands still shoved in my pockets, I duck my head quickly to check there’s no one near the entrance to the barn. “I fucking hate this. It’s killing me to see you upset,” I whisper.

She shakes her head, swallowing hard.

“Come stay in my bed tonight. Be with me, baby. I’m going fucking insane without you.” My voice is low, and I can’t help the way it cracks a little. Admitting out loud even just a fraction of what I actually want to say.

Cracking like my goddamn heart.

Layla sucks in a sharp breath, but still refuses to look at me.

“We can’t.” Her voice is so quiet I can hardly hear her above the rustling and the munching of the horses.

Of course, she’s right. I’m a desperate goddamn fool, and while it’s only been two days, here I am ready to risk every fucking thing just for her. Because it’s the absolute truth—I’m insane for her, and I’m going crazy without her.

How the fuck I’m supposed to survive once she leaves is an approaching storm front I’m willingly ignoring for the meantime. I guess it’ll just drown me where I stand once it finally hits, and I’m left shivering out in the elements, completely exposed, with my chest ripped open.

“Then tomorrow night, do me a favor…” My jaw works, and my eyes dart back to that doorway once again, confirming there isn’t anyone standing there listening in. “Wear something pretty, angel. Not for me… although I’ll be struggling not to fucking stare, no matter what you’re wearing. But wear something for you.”

Layla doesn’t reply. She doesn’t say a word. All I see is the tension in her face, and the next minute, she’s gone.

The sound of her soft footsteps, and sight of my girl walking out those doors leaves my heart slashed in two.