Chasing The Wild (Crimson Ridge Book 1)

There’s a special place in hell reserved just for men like me. Someone who should know better than to fuck his fist every night thinking about the hot young cunt just down the hallway.

The girl who belongs to my son.

Now, here I am, trapped in the confines of my truck cab as we make our way down the mountain for the first time since Layla barged into my life two weeks ago.

Her busted car is hitched on a trailer so we can drop it at the mechanic in town, and it’s going to be a massive day of picking up all the supplies we’ll need.

The road is likely to be cleared long enough to get everything done, but there’s no telling when the next storm front might move in.

Besides, at this time of year, the road to Devil’s Peak lives up to its name. Conditions are less than ideal after a heavy snowstorm, and there’s always the risk of rockfall or slips with trees coming down.

My usual rule at this time of year is that it’s safer to stay put and I don’t intend to hang around down here in town any longer than I need to.

At least having two of us to get everything done will make it a quicker ordeal than usual. Thank fuck, because it’s not like my own damn kid is going to make himself useful, from what I can tell. I haven’t heard from him since the night he called up on the radio. I’m going to presume he’ll drag his sorry ass up the mountain once he’s sobered up. We’ll probably get back tonight and find him propped up on the couch.

I can’t say I’ve missed not having to deal with his crap lying around. Layla is like a mouse, I hardly notice her at times, even more so since she’s hidden out in her room all week.

She says she’s got a good book, but I know she’s avoiding me.

Which has been a blessing and torture all at the same time.

Things got way too close for comfort that night, when all I wanted to do was drag her into my bed.

So now I’m just the fucking idiot who can’t stop thinking about shit I have no right to. The squeeze of her tight little pussy wrapping around my cock as I pump her full. Watching my seed spill out of her. Hearing her breathy moans when I suck on her perfect tits.

Fuck, definitely straight to hell. I scrub my hand over my mouth.

This girl is a walking temptation for me, and I’m dreading the thought of what tomorrow’s bonfire is going to be like. It’s why I couldn’t put off teaching her to fire a gun any longer. If there’s going to be any hope of her surviving the next six weeks up here when I can’t keep an eye on the girl every minute of the day, she’s going to have to be able to deal with any jerk-offs who come sniffing around. The Pierson brothers are my biggest concern.

Something tells me they’re not going to stop until they add Layla to their trophy collection of unsuspecting victims.

“Where to first, cowboy?” Layla smiles across the cab at me as we reach the outskirts of town. Her brightness only amplifies the scowl I’m wearing.

She’s a ray of fucking sunshine, and I’m the thundercloud about to unleash all hell at any moment. My temper is already frayed just coming down here.

The place is full of vehicles and noise and people.

It’s exhausting, and I can’t be fucked dealing with idiots.

“I’ll drop you at the store while I unhitch your car round at the mechanic’s.”

“You don’t need me to come? I mean, it is my car, after all.”

No. I really, really don’t need those grease monkeys leering at her ass or trying to chat her up in front of me.

“You start getting all the things on that list. It’ll be quicker if we split up.”

She twists her lips and studies the hardware supplies we need to collect. “What if I don’t know what something is?”

“You’re a smart girl, aren’t you?”

That makes her cheeks turn a little pink, and she looks like a fucking wet dream whenever I compliment her. Christ, I must be sick because I keep doing this to myself.

Right now, she’s in the passenger seat of my truck, and all I want to do is drag her into my lap and unzip her jeans.

My cock twitches, and I’ve never been more relieved to pull up outside the hardware store in my life.

“I’ll be back soon as I unload the trailer. Just grab a cart and start loading, anything you can’t find I’ll help with when I join you.”

“Got it.” She bites her lip and slips out the door.

As she rounds the hood of the truck, I watch the way her ass fills those high-cut jeans to perfection, and the cropped sweater she’s got on skims the waistband showing off all her curves before she shrugs into her coat.

Fuck.

I roll my window down. “Layla,” I call after her, and she spins around.

“Did I forget something?” She frowns and slips her phone into her back pocket.

Shit. I absolutely did not think this through, but I’m sure as hell not going to let her walk in there like that.

“Come here.” I hop out the door quickly and look down at her, before casting a quick glance up and down the empty sidewalk.

“You’ll need this.” I take my hat off and drop it on her head. It’s a little big for her, and even though she looks gorgeous in anything, fuck me, the sight of her wearing my jet-black hat sends a rush of blood to my dick.

She reaches up to touch the brim, readjusting it slightly on her head, and her green eyes sparkle.

Which is why I don’t even bother trying to explain why I just did what I did, yet still hop back in the cab feeling like a fucking king.

Even if she’s not my girl, I can at least lay a claim on her so no asshole around town dares to look twice her way.

Turns out, having two people to tackle the list of supplies and picking up hardware and groceries makes it a fucking breeze. Especially when that person is the girl beside me loading the last of the bags and boxes into the truck.

We’re done a good couple of hours earlier than I expected, and while the sun has already dipped behind Crimson Ridge, the forecast for tonight is clear. It should stay above freezing, too, which means the road will be fine for my truck to get back up the mountain.

Laughter and a couple of squeals pierce the fading light. Layla glances up as a group of young girls spill out of a car down the street and file into the bar.

The Loaded Hog is the only place in town to get a meal and a drink, and from the looks of it, business is doing well tonight.

I shove my hand through my hair. Of course, it’s a Saturday.

This is the kind of shit girls her age want to be doing. Not loading horse feed and wire into the back of my truck after dark.

Not having me work her to the bone seven days a week.

“You want to go in?” I nod in the direction of the music and lights twinkling from the beer garden out front.

Layla looks over and then back at me, shaking her head the way she does.

“No, we can get back.”

I lean up against the truck.

“Don’t you want to go out with people your own age? You know, to enjoy a drink or something?” What am I even offering? To drop her here and come back and pick her up like I’m her chaperone or some shit?

She worries her bottom lip. “God, no. I’ve been there and done that. I’ve always worked in bars since my early teens. There was always an after-after party to go to where I made enough bad decisions for one lifetime. That was how I met Kayce.” Her eyes fall and she sounds a little self-conscious to even bring his name up.

My jaw clenches at the reminder of their connection.

“That night was probably the last time I went out, actually. The old crowd I used to run with convinced me to go with them to someone’s stupid birthday party, for old time’s sake, and then one too many shots later…” She stops abruptly there.

Which is fucking fine by me, because hearing about how the girl I currently cannot stop imagining in my bed, fell into the arms of my son, is hideous.

And is probably the exact reason I decide to try and erase that image, by suggesting the worst idea possible.

“Well, I’m starved and there’s no way I’m waiting on cooking dinner when we get home.” I lock the truck and start heading for the bar, leaving her to have to jog behind me just to catch up.

“Don’t we need to go… the roads being icy and all that?” She jerks her thumb in the direction of Devil’s Peak.

“Not tonight. It’ll be fine.” I hold the door open for her and a flood of music and raucous chatter mixed with the sour tinge of beer greets us.

“You’re sure?” She looks curious but wary, hesitancy in her body language.

That’s when it registers and can’t help but feel like a dick. This girl is probably counting every dollar, and here I am forcing her into a bar when she probably doesn’t even want to spend an extra dime until she’s got her car fixed.

“Get inside. I’m paying.”

Her lips tip up, and she ducks under my arm, but then turns around, almost bumping into me.

“Wait, here.” She tugs my hat off. “I’m sorry, I forgot I had it on all day.”

I fix her with a stern look. If there’s any place she needs to be wearing that, it’s inside this bar. Every part of me demands to sit it right back on her silky copper curls and order her to leave it on. But instead, I fist it with a grunt. Because the words I want to say and what I’m actually allowed to say aren’t fucking compatible.

I don’t wait to see the bemused look she gives me. Instead, I grab her by the wrist and tug her behind my back, heading straight for the safety of the booths. It’s busy, but not too crushed yet since the night is still young. Fortunately, I don’t spot anyone I know other than a few vaguely familiar faces. But that’s the added bonus of life up the mountain, I keep to myself and it suits me just fine.

At least I won’t have to face introducing her to the likes of Storm or any of the Hayes brothers. Those pretty motherfuckers.

Layla is giving me an odd look as I reluctantly let go of her arm, gesturing to slide into the booth. I take up the other side. Opposite each other, seems good in theory, but also makes it damn near impossible not to stare at her.

She keeps whatever it is she’s thinking to herself.

There’s a group of young bucks around a bar leaner nearby and I can already tell they’re looking at her. She’s fresh meat and easily the prettiest thing any of them will have seen since winter began.

Two minutes ago, this girl was wearing my hat. My eyes drop to where it sits on the empty length of the booth seat beside my thigh. Clearly, letting her take the damn thing off was a mistake because these fresh-faced cowpokes can’t stop staring her way.

Maybe this was a stupid goddamn idea after all.

There are already menus on the table and after a few moments a server comes over, who must be all of eighteen with bleached curls and bright red lipstick.

“What can I get you?” The girl eyes Layla with open curiosity before giving me a look that lingers a little too long.

“You’ll know what’s good here… can you order for me?” Layla’s green eyes meet mine, and she pushes her menu my way.

I don’t know what fucking caveman part of my brain lights up at that request, but it feels damn good. Like she trusts my judgment or some shit.

Once I’ve ordered and food eventually arrives, we’ve both got burgers and fries, and I’ve got a beer in hand. Layla’s been quiet, but she seems happy to people-watch while we sit here and finish our meal. I suppose I should be better at talking, but the music has gotten louder the longer we’ve sat down and more bodies have arrived, filling the floor. Some are dancing and it’s turned into a Saturday night feel.

Do I even fucking remember the last time I did anything like this?

Being twenty-something years old feels like a lifetime ago.

“I can’t help but notice, it looks like you’re planning for a party, Mr. Wilder.” The girl across from me rolls her lips together.

Fuck, it’s impossible not to stare at her mouth.

“How so?” Clearing my throat, I shift my weight.

“Well, that’s an awful lot of BBQ for me to try and eat on my own.” Her head cocks to one side, green eyes sliding up to meet mine briefly, before flitting away.

Oh, right. The bonfire.

“Got some guys coming up to the ranch tomorrow.”

“Really?”

This isn’t a conversation I’m prepared to have. Every year when I host this, it’s just me up that mountain. Thinking about what all those cocky sons of bitches are going to get ideas about when they get one glimpse of her green eyes, her pretty mouth…

Christ. My teeth clench and I fist my hat.

“I’ll go settle up.” Sliding out of the booth, my every concern for what lies ahead tomorrow is confirmed. I immediately feel the room full of eyes land on Layla as she slips out and follows behind me. My fingers itch to grab hold of her, to feel the soft underside of her wrist beneath my callouses again, but once earlier was risky enough to set tongues wagging around this place.

Just as I’m digging my wallet out, a voice slides up alongside my shoulder.

“Long time, no see, handsome.”