Page 37 of Stay Wild Darlin’

I sighed, dropping my phone onto the table.

My eyes drifted shut for a moment, letting the silence settle.

I whispered the one thing I knew would get me out the door.

Cora.

It was for her. For that sweet little girl who’d wrapped her arms around my neck yesterday like I already belonged.

I grabbed my keys before I could think twice and walked straight out the door.

No overthinking or turning back. Just moving forward—one deeply mortifying step at a time.

17

Dalton

“You almost fucked your nanny?” Beau barked a laugh as I grabbed my dark blue helmet and shoved it on.

We were out early this morning, practicing in the field. Maribel was up in the house with Cora, and Fable was supposed to stop by soon. I’d invited Poppy, too, but after spilling everything to Beau, I was starting to regret it.

Beau followed me toward the chute, still grinning like a bastard. “I’m just sayin’, man. You don’t date. Ever. You fuck.”

“Not true,” I muttered, tugging open the gate as the bull kicked up dust.

We got the bull into the practice chute with some effort, both of us moving on instinct.

Beau leaned against the gate.

“I loved Brooke,” I murmured. “Thought I did, anyway. We always had a thing. Never official, but . . . I wanted her. Still want her to be part of our family and get to know her daughter.”

Beau nodded slowly, his expression sobering. “Yeah. I know.”

I glanced at him, half expecting another jab.

“Sorry for giving you shit. You’re allowed to think she’s attractive.”

I grunted in response.

“She was drunk. It’s not like you did anything wrong. You backed off. That matters.” With a shrug, he added, “She probably doesn’t even remember. You’re beating yourself up over something that didn’t even happen.”

I didn’t answer, mostly because I wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

Beau hopped down while I zipped up my vest and added the flank strap to the back of the bull. I grabbed my bull rope and tightened it hard, no spotter, no one else out here to play safety net. Fine by me.

I swung one leg over, dropped into the well, and nodded.

The chute doors flew open.

The bull launched forward. I knew he was going to spin into my hand, felt it before it happened, but I leaned too far anyway. Got cocky and off-balance. I barely made it three seconds before I was airborne, landing hard in the dirt.

Beau wrangled the bull back into the pen while I picked myself up, jaw clenched, adrenaline still burning hot.

“Again,” I said.

That’s all it took.

The next half hour was a blur of dust, sweat, and impact. Me climbing back on, over and over. Bulls fighting the rope, my balance off, my mind messier than it should’ve been. I didn’t care. I needed the ache. Needed the bruises.