Free Waiting for Wyatt (Red Dirt #1) by S.D. Hendrickson Page A

bounced along on three legs. I hobbled on my two, feeling the pain in my knee. It hurt, but I kept going. I wanted to fly fast across the open space. I wanted to feel the wind in my face.
    I picked up the pace. Each step over the rough grass vibrated the cells of my skin. The rush started in the pit of my stomach. I tilted my head back, feeling the smile on my lips. I was no longer just running through the open field—I was part of the blades of grass. I was one of them. Suddenly, my body got all tingly and warm as I transcended into sweet oblivion. I floated across the ground, savoring the release.
    It was better than being drunk on tequila or having sex. Not that I’d had any real experience to use as a comparison. I’d gotten drunk a couple of times after work with some of the girls from the bookstore. It wasn’t that glamorous. As for the sex part, people said it was better than running, but I’d yet to find out. Maybe one day the right guy would prove me wrong.
    Kicking it up a notch, I kept going faster and faster, stumbling along the uneven ground. The air felt hot in my lungs. It was too early in the afternoon for a run, but I didn’t care. I kept going, farther and farther away from the kennel.
    The pain gripped tighter around my calf. It rolled over my knee and into my thigh. I kicked my leg forward, and then I went down. I face-planted, leaving a trail of scrapes on my arms and legs.
    “You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered to myself. Grabbing the leashes, I held tight to the dogs. I tried to get up, but it was too much. It hurt. It hurt really bad this time.
    The words of the doctor haunted me as I rolled over on my back, staring up at the sun as it beat down from the sky. Ricky Bobby licked my nose. Charlie licked my hand. I stretched my leg up into the air, flexing the muscles.
    “Are you happy now?”
    I jumped at the sound of his voice. “Do you have to keep doing that? Don’t sneak up on people.”
    “You okay?”
    I glared at Wyatt. “I’m fine.”
    “Come on. Let’s go back and look at the damage. ” He reached down, scooping me up in his arms.
    “What are you doing!” I struggled to get free. “Put me down.”
    “Just relax, Emma.” My name flowed softly off his tongue. “Let go of the leashes. They’ll follow us back.”
    Wyatt carried me across the meadow with one arm under my legs and the other around my back. I felt small against his large body as he touched me in a hundred different places. His smell came from everywhere.
    I relaxed into his chest, feeling the firm muscles under his shirt. My eyes followed the curve of his neck to his face to his lips. They were soft and full today. Wyatt’s a good kisser. I contemplated the thought. I could only imagine how those lips would feel against mine—all angry and soft.
    He glanced down at me, then quickly looked away. “Don’t go there, Emma,” he muttered.
    “What?”
    “You know what.” The edge of his jaw grew tight like he’d read those thoughts I’d had about kissing him.
    We reached the kennel, but he kept on walking until the trailer door came into view. With little effort, Wyatt opened the door and balanced me at the same time. I scrambled to look at everything in his trailer as he placed me on the couch. I was finally inside his cave.
    “I’ll take them back to the kennel. You just sit there a minute.”
    He turned around and shut the door. The dark-brown curtains blocked the hot sun from inside the trailer. My eyes scanned the room. Everything screamed simple and organized. The living room was almost bare except for a large bookcase where most people would put an entertainment center.
    I looked around, taking in the whole living room and kitchen area. Wyatt had no television, radio, gaming system, or computer. The guy had nothing of the kind in any corner—just a giant bookshelf of paperbacks and a few hardcovers on the top row.
    His furniture wasn’t anything fancy. The couch was covered in itchy red