Page 19

Evie

Sweetheart?

"Sweetheart?" Kristyn squeaks. "He called you that?"

I glare down at the empty box on the bed. Unfortunately, Wild has great taste. The dress is spectacular—a shimmery drape of bright yellow with puffy sleeves. Fortunately, it means I will be looking my absolute best today. Erase the 'sweetheart' mistake, and I would have enjoyed today.

I need my everyday life back. I crave normalcy, not a spectacular dress and a night out.

Kristyn draws back in alarm as I reach for her hands and hold tight. "I will give you a million dollars if you'll go in my place."

Her lips part as my request sinks in, andthen she laughs. Of course, she laughs it off. It's not like I never suspected she was on Wild's side. "I'm serious,"I say.

"He was just acting,"she assures me, patting my hand with a patronizing air. "Acting. Isn't that the point of the 'fake'in fake relationships?”

I hear his voice.

Wild's here. Wild of the sweetheart and tender touches and never leaving my ring—his ring on my finger alone.

Burned and buried. Burned and buried. Burned and buried.

Kristyn's eyes boggle out of their sockets, and it's not a cute sight. "Are you muttering incantations, or are my ears deceiving me?"

My ears are blocked. I can't hear her because I'm freaking out. I don't need Wild acting out of character.

Kristyn's hands land on my shoulders."Remember why you're doing this."After conquering motherhood, motivational speaking is next for her. "Mrs. Langford."

"Mrs. Langford," I repeat.

I pour the dress over my body. Literally. It's a perfect fit and style for me. I step into red strappy sandals, grab my purse, andI'mso ready.

Burned and buried. Burned and buried. Burned and buried . Who says there's no power in incantations? I step out of the room and down the hall to the living room.

Wild and Charlie have their heads together, poring through some documents.

Kristyn jumps to her feet.

I just want to get the night over with.

Wild turns his head and eyes away from the document. And stares. My eyes do a blank, 'are you human'skip over his frame. He's set, I'm set, and we can leave.

If there's one cardinal sin I'm too old to try rebelling against, it's keeping Mrs. Langford waiting. And especially not at her statement-making luncheon.

Wild has his mouth open, still staring.

The back of my neck prickles. I ignore it. And him.

I move to Kristyn for a final examination. Eyes shining with excitement, she starts nodding even before I get to her. And she doesn't stop nodding. Just when I'm beginning to fear for her life, a noise interrupts her manic nodding.

“Wild."Charlie knocks Wild's shoulders with his, "Wild.

Charlie. I groan silently. That's his best friend he's barking at. Wild is taller and bigger, so the shoulder check is like a puppy nudging a beast.

"Stop staring like you just got electrocuted and go save my sister from herself."Charlie's eyes go to his watch. "I'm shocked to say this, but I don't like the look in your eyes. Do you two need a chaperone?"

As if. I sashay on my heels to grab an 'electrocuted'Wild. Somehow, I maneuver his six-foot-five frame out the door. Wild is still acting like his brain has been sucked out by one of the villains in his fantasy novels. Ewww.

Should I call the mansion with our excuses?

"Don't do what I wouldn't do!"

I really hate my best friend.

Wild settles beside me in the car. "When you get nervous, you start fiddling with your hair."

He's alive!

I turn and freeze. Because Wild is smiling a loopy, happy smile, and his eyes are on my hair. I swallow with a loud click. "What are you talking about?"

He exhales. "Your hair is brown and glossy and curly and soft and perfect. I love your hair."

My head and hair slap my face as I whip my hair around in a Beyonce-like move. I stare out the window and do my chant. Wild's reflection--the cropped hair, bristly jaw, and dimpled chin--blinds my vision. I face the road ahead.

"We're getting ice cream after," Wild mutters into his phone.

"Why?"

"I promised you fun, didn't I?"

◆◆◆

The first time I moved into the Langford mansion, I was eight. The long drive up to the imposing monument that was supposed to be my new home had been so intimidating my teeth started chattering. Before that day, I lived with the staff in a building far from the mansion with my mother.

Then mother left, and I had to move into the big house to live with my father. And Mrs. Langford. And Sarah.

The mansion doesn't look so intimidating now. The car stops, and Wild orders me to wait as he lets the driver go. Then he comes to help me out with a firm hand on my elbow.

Mrs. Rose, the old cook, emerges from the stairs. She beams when she sees me. In my head, I'm a child again, and I want to run over and throw my arms around her. As I close the distance between us, her smile grows bigger.

"Evie," she whispers.

"How have you been?" I say past my clogged throat. If Mrs. Langford raised me, this woman gave me warmth.

"Good." She raises her eyes to Wild. "You better treat her right."

"I will."

Wild is a great actor. He sounded sincere.

"Mrs. Rose, please."Mrs. Langford looks us over, her expression cold.

She must like what she sees because she nods. Parker and Sarah appear at her side, and I'm surprised I feel nothing. Not for Mrs. Langford, the house, Sarah, Parker, or my absent father.There'scomfort in the realization because I can meet their eyes directly and smile.

"I was expecting something more formal,"I say. A lot more country club members for one.

"Mother trimmed down the number to just family,"Parker announces with a pointed stare at Wild and our entwined fingers.

Surprised, I look down to where Wild has my hand in his, spinning his ring around my finger with his thumb. I start to jerk my fingers away, and then I catch Mrs. Langford's eyes on our hands.

Efficient staff usher us to our seats—antique chairs that cost a fortune. Sarah is curious, and Parker's face is a clownish red. Wild perches on a high-backed chair and pulls me tight to his side.

"You've done well with the old ruins,"Mrs. Langford says.

She means my home, sweet home. "Thank you."

"So, when is the wedding?" Sarah asks.

Her smile is warm, open, and friendly. And if there's one thing Sarah's not? It's warm and open and friendly. For one, she wasn't raised that way, and for another, she doesn't have it in her as a human being.

"So, it's Wilder." Parker hisses in disgust. "Should have known."

"That I would fall for her?"Wild leans down and kisses my temple. "I'm just sad we wasted all that time on other people."

"But you didn't date anyone." Parker delights in pointing out. "She dated me."

Sarah has gone white. Mrs. Langford, too.

No, my stepmother looks devastated as she stares at her son-in-law. And then me. She looks at me like I'm the ghost of a bad dream brought to life.

"I had to kiss a frog to land a prince."I lean so far into Wild I'm practically draped over him. But this is the moment I need to sell our relationship. I need to prove I'm nothing like my mother, that I have minus one hundred interest in Parker and will never take him back.

Not even if he returns as Brad Pitt in another life.

I turn my head to Wild, praying and hoping he can sense my urgency. His eyes rove over my face like he's counting my every feature. With every pass, his eyes darken. My heart leaps into the air with nothing to break its fall.

Wild's jaw clenches, and he leans forward. "Evie Cassandra," he murmurs, the heat of his words kissing my skin.

His face comes down. My heart is falling, falling, falling. My mind is spinning. He's going to kiss me. I reach for my chant, and I can't remember it.

I steel myself, and it's my only defense against what's coming. His kiss. His mouth hovers over mine briefly, then shifts so his nose brushes against mine.

My chest is so tight and burning, and I feel like I'm going to explode.

"Wow," Sarah whispers.

I recoil.

Wild swallows. His Adam apple bobbing as it drags along the line of his throat.

There's no need to reach for my burned and buried chant because I tumble from my Wild-induced confusion to Mrs. Langford's unreadable gaze.

"You know he's never actually going to marry you, right?"Parker blurts out suddenly.

His hair—a cross between blond and brown—is all over the place. Bloodshot eyes filled with resentment and a childish pout complete his spoiled teenager look.

"You told me yourself he's not the marrying kind."

Wild doesn't react, but I burn with shame that I ever discussed Wild with him.

But it's exactly what Sarah needs to hear because she lurches to her feet—decorum and respectability forgotten—and throws her drink into Parker's face. "You fool!"

She's shaking and trembling. And, like me, probably wondering what she ever saw in Parker. But unlike me, she's not the type to let Parker get off lightly by openly humiliating her. The server chooses that time to approach. She's probably new. My heart clenches in sympathy for her because she will get fired for not reading the table.

Sarah grabs the food—plate and all—and hurls it atParker's head.Parker's begging her to calm down and looking at Mrs. Langford to put an end to her hysterics.

Mrs. Langford gently replaces her glass on the table. "Now that you have the chance, want to see your old room?"

She's not going to bring her daughter to order?

Do I still have a room here? It's one shock after another, and I don't know what to do with it.

I grab Wild's hand and tug.

We go together. It's surreal, wading through old memories. Wild is unusually quiet, but he keeps pace with me.

Is he angry that I discussed his business with Parker? Probably. I owe him an apology.

I open the door to my old room. It's untouched. My books, my old laptop, and even the blankets I used to camp on the ground are all there, just like I left them.

Wild moves to my dresser and picks up a picture. It's of him, Charlie, Kristyn, and me at their wedding. He was the best man to my maid of honor.

Why did she leave my room as it is? Do I even want to know?

I turn away to the door. I’m so ready to get out of here. "Wild?"

He steps closer. I tip my head back to catch him looking down at me. "I'm sorry."

If he had a Parker in his life, which he doesn't, and he discussed me with her, I would be angry. But Wild's eyes go soft looking over my face. He grabs my hand, palm up, and drops something onto my hand. My neck is killing me. I roll my head down to see.

Hair ties. I attended a carnival during one of the countless vacations I spent in Charity. My hair was longer then, and a crowded carnival is not the place to show off the length of your hair.

He got me the hair ties.

"Thanks," I murmur.

Mrs. Langford surprises me by seeing us to the door. At the threshold, I hesitate. Before I lose my nerve, I turn to give her a quick hug. The briefest hug ever because she is Mrs. Langford.

Sure enough, she stiffens. But she's warm and human under my palms. I draw back with a grateful smile. "Thank you,"I say. "It must have been hard." I swallow. "Raising me."

I meant raising the daughter of your husband's mistress, who used to be your trusted personal assistant.

Again, she shocks me. Not by withdrawing to her full height and pulling on every inch of the elegant hauteur she's known for. No. She surprises me by shaking her head. "You were the most well-behaved child."