Running Wild (Wild 3)

“Did you hesitate at all or just plow right through?” There’s a playfulness in his voice that confirms he’s not angry.

“I did stop.” I meet his gaze again, marveling at the golden flecks in his irises. We’re sitting shoulder to shoulder. He’s so close.

His left eyebrow arches with amusement. “You did?”

“Yeah. And then I reversed so I could take a good run at it.”

His chuckle is deep and contagious, and I feel it dance along my spine as I laugh alongside him. “I’m trying to picture that, and I can’t—no, wait. Actually, I can. You were probably biting the side of your bottom lip like you do when you’re determined to get your way.”

“I do not do that.”

His laughter only grows. “Yeah, okay.”

Despite my best efforts, my eyes drift to his mouth. “I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t know how bad it might be, and I couldn’t let something happen to her. I know how much that would hurt you.”

“So you raced over here and crashed through my gate to protect me—is that what you’re saying?”

And suddenly neither of us are laughing anymore as his words seem to pluck the humor from the air.

Tyler falters, then leans in to press his lips against mine. A shaky sigh escapes him, as if he’s been holding his breath until now.

There’s no excuse for it this time—no sleepy confusion, no ruse to avoid a confrontation. Tyler is kissing me because he’s chosen to, and realizing that drives me forward, leaning into him, teasing him with the tip of my tongue. He responds in kind, the taste of mint taunting my taste buds as we explore each other’s mouths, his cradling hand leaving Nala to curl around the back of my head, pulling my face in closer.

“Hey, Ty?”

Tyler breaks away with lightning speed.

Reed stands in the doorway. I didn’t hear the door creak. “You left the windows open in the truck.” He studies his boots. “The seat’s getting wet.”

A few beats pass before a curse slips out under Tyler’s breath. He fishes his keys out of his pocket. “I’ll go out and close it.” He pulls himself off the barn floor. “You have all your things, Marie?”

I tap the open black leather bag with my foot. “Almost.” I don’t trust my voice with more than that.

“Okay. I’ll meet you outside.” His gaze passes over mine, and the heat and playfulness I saw only moments ago is now shuttered. He ducks out, pulling the door shut behind him.

Leaving me reeling in a swirl of confusion and regret.

I shouldn’t have let that happen. Despite my resistance, we have become friends, and he’s already told me—twice—that it won’t go further than that.

And yet, he just kissed me.

I do one final check on Nala, sterilize my stethoscope and thermometer, and pack up the portable ultrasound I brought with me. Finished here, my boots splash through puddles as I trudge toward my truck. Aside from a few scratches on the hood, I don’t see much in the way of damage from plowing through the gate, the grille guard doing its job. But my truck is the furthest thing from my thoughts.

Reed was still in the barn when I left, grooming one of the dogs while several others lounged in the straw. He was quiet—but he always is. Still, I felt him watching me as I strolled away. What’s going on in that head of his? Does it bother him to see Tyler kissing another woman? Does he think it’s too soon?

Is two years too soon?

By Tyler’s reaction in the barn, what Reed thinks matters. But that’s not a surprise. Reed is Mila’s brother—a piece of his late wife—and Tyler is still living for her. I can’t allow myself to get caught up in a heady swirl of hormones and emotions and forget that.

And still, as these thoughts solidify in my mind, I refuse to dismiss the feeling that this isn’t just friendship for Tyler, either, despite his earlier words.

Tyler’s head is bowed against the rain as he marches toward me from the house, his uniform replaced by sweatpants and a pullover that’ll be soaked soon. He reaches my truck just as I’m starting the engine. I open my window, my stomach a knot of anxiety and anticipation. “I can come by on Monday to check on her if you want.”

“That’d be great. Cory’ll send me the bill for today?”

So smoothly we’ve switched to business. “Yeah. Let me know what I owe for the gate—”

“Nothing. You don’t owe me anything for that.” He scowls as if my offer is preposterous. “You did what you had to do to get here to help Reed, and I appreciate it.”

An awkward silence lingers as he rests his forearms on my door, keeping me there, as he peers over his shoulder toward the barn. “You know what’s freaky? They have the exact same big, brown eyes. Sometimes, for like a split second, it feels like Mila’s watching me.” He turns back on a deep inhale. “I got caught up in the moment, and I didn’t think.” He shifts his stance, leans in a little more, his head resting against the door frame, his voice softening as he says, “It’s just that, when I’m with you, I forget about everything else. You make me feel like myself again.” He studies my mouth like he wants to kiss me again.