Page 23

Evie

Like every normal thinking human with a job that takes them out of the house early in the morning only to return to an ecstatic puppy late noon to evening, on Saturday, I have a date with my gloves, vacuum cleaner, vinegar, and duster. My home needs only a few touches to be eligible for a feature in one of those home improvement magazines. I'm proud and mortified to say Wild didn't stop working on my home, and I didn't stop him. Don't blame me. The man likes physical labor.

When I opened my eyes this morning, I had a plan: clean every surface of my home until it shone. But underneath it all, I had a premonition. If this were a movie, a sad song would play while the innocent protagonist goes about their day until disaster comes crashing down on her.

My premonition might have something to do with the text messages I exchanged with Wild yesterday. The North Cats GM wants a meeting. And Megan is coming along. A meeting with the GM is good because he has to sign off on everything Coach Billy signs off on. But Megan, that woman is dangerous.

And the kiss. THE KISS.

I don't want to think about it. But it's the main character in my dreams. The only character. I burn thinking about it. I barely slept thinking about it. My bruises have bruises from my falling off the couch because of the freaking kiss.

And we get to do another performance before Megan, the director of our last kiss? Bad idea.

There's nothing like a good house cleaning to ground me and bring me back to my senses.

Cleaning helps me put a personal stamp on my space.

I want to clean. I'm going to clean and not think about you know what.

That was my plan. It's a good one. Clean on Saturday, rest, and laze on Sunday. But like most best-laid plans, mine never got a chance to take off.

I dress in my 'make the house shine' clothes: one of Wild's sports shirts and shorts and the old hair ties holding up my hair, not that it requires special mention.

Jackie is a good girl waiting for me to feed her before I take her for her promised play date with Mrs. Izaacs. I'm straining up on my tiptoes, half admiring my new cabinet as I reach for the dog food. Heavy footfalls echo through my house. Moments later, longer arms easily pluck the food from the top cabinet.

But Wild doesn't immediately give me my space.

I don't breathe in too deeply. "What are you doing here?"

"Gardening."

What? I tip my head back until I can study his face upside down incredulously. "Gardening what?"

"Gardening your garden," he says. "You can join me for the class, it will be fun. I promised you—"

"Fun, yes." I wiggle out from under him and glare at my sweet-looking Jackie. She couldn't have recognized him as a threat and ripped him to shreds? "Unless Director Megan is going to be there, I don't see why we must go together."

"Evie Cassandra." Wild's eyes burn into me. A muscle jumps along his jaw, and I look away. "We started this thing to help each other, not lose our friendship."

Unfortunately, he's right. "I'm just not interested in gardening."

Wild looks like he's in physical pain because of my blatant lie. "Evie Cassandra."

"Stop calling me that."

"It's your name." He points out, so reasonably I want to deck him.

"Just don't say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Wild," I warn.

"What am I witnessing?" Charlie asks in exasperation.

He looks from me to Wild and back again. I know that expression well. Knowing. Smug. Smirky. What's wrong with everyone?

Then Charlie and Wild are facing off. In my kitchen.

Kristyn is in the background, looking like she needs popcorn, soda, and a bigger TV screen.

"Your ears are working fine, right?" Charlie asks Wild in a low tone. "You remember our talk?"

Jackie runs to me, lifting with her paws, her eyes asking what's wrong. I lift her into my arms and address the uninvited guests in my kitchen. "You both have more expensive and better-furnished homes than this one."

"Meaning?" Kristyn opens my fridge and starts searching like she forgot something in there. I want to scream again.

"Meaning, I want you to leave." I pat myself on the back for my adult-like control.

"You don't have yogurt?" Kristyn asks.

"I will make a quick run to the grocery store," Wild offers, a man on the run.

"I'll go with him," Charlie says quickly, a man in close pursuit.

Then it's just me and Kristyn. Not good. Not good.

She doesn't waste time and quickly sets up shop on a stool. That's my best friend, Miss Efficiency, finding ways to get her way.

I ignore her and start checking for what to serve my uninvited guests for breakfast. Jackie doesn't ignore her.

I need to teach her to differentiate foes from friends.

"You like having family around."

"Not today.” I grumble. "And has Charlie read all the pregnancy books because why is he always here?"

Kristyn cradles her stomach, and the hairs on my nape stand on end. Attack incoming. "He's caught the family bug. He doesn't want you to feel alone. He blames himself for the crush..."

"It's burned and buried, remember?" I've never let myself be embarrassed by what I believed was a healthy crush on Wild. But this conversation is faintly embarrassing. "I'm no longer eighteen."

I decide on scrambled eggs, toast, and sausages. They should count themselves lucky to be getting breakfast. Jackie finally lets go of Kristyn, pads over, paws on my knee, and gives me 'love me' eyes.

"Traitor," I whisper to her.

"You're no longer eighteen?" Kristyn doesn't sound happy about my biological development. "Does that mean nothing has happened between you two? You're really just doing the fake relationship thing?"

The worst thing that will happen to me is for Kristyn to learn about Wild's sudden feelings. I can only imagine her glee and smirkiness. Is that a word? "What did you expect to happen?"

"You know." She's so glum I expect her to burst into tears at any second.

When Wild and Charlie return, breakfast is ready. Charlie looks quite satisfied. The smug, knowing smirkiness is dialed up to one thousand. I. Don't. Care. The shocking turnabout is Wild being the disgruntled one.

Breakfast is such a stark contrast to the dinners I've suffered through while putting on a show. This fake relationship thing Kristyn loves so much is draining.

"Why was your door open this morning?" Wild suddenly asks. "You should be old and sensible enough to know the importance of locked doors."

He gets to his feet and looks down his nose at me from his height. "You know what a door and lock is for, right?"

Without waiting for me to explain my 'make the house' shine original objective, he stomps to the kitchen with his plates. The room has gone quiet. A watchful, 'I can't wait to see what will happen next' kind of quiet.

I glare at Charlie. "What exactly did you talk about?"

He munches and hums around his toast like it's the best breakfast he's ever had. "We had a good talk. A very good one."

Shooting Kristyn a 'you better watch over your husband at night because I'm coming after him with a dagger' look, I follow Wild. I find him in the kitchen with Jackie cradled in his arms. He looks like he's been waiting for me.

The man and puppy do not look adorable.

"I should be old enough and sensible? If you don't like what you see, why come to my house so early?"

"I took gardening classes—"

"Please—"

"And the offer is still open to join me, or I'll keep coming around to save your dying garden," he points out with reasonable, sensible, old-enough logic.

I grit my teeth to hold back another scream. How did I go from coming here to give him a piece of my mind to discuss gardening? "I'm not taking gardening classes with you.”

"It will be fun—"

"I don't want fun!"

"Who doesn't want fun?"

"Me!" I spread my hands in exasperation. "Why are you doing this? And I'm not talking about gardening.”

"Are you asking why you kissed me?"

"Shhh," I hiss. "I don't want Kristyn to know anything about this!"

"Why?" His eyebrows furrow. "Did you two fight?"

"No!" The knowing, smirky gleam in his eyes sets my teeth on edge. "And I didn't kiss you--"

"You did." His eyes and voice go dark and smoky. "I can still feel it. Kept me up all night."

"You know why—" I start, and then the rest of his words sink in. I'm in danger of melting in a puddle.

"We've been so good. Why change us?" I continue, words falling over the other like badly stacked plates. "And don't tell me it's because you're attracted to me. I don't believe you."

His voice goes to that smoky timbre I do not like. It's not us. And the look in his eyes, as if I just permitted him, he would devour me. I'm not used to it.

I take a step back.

"Our kiss," he says in a spine-tingling grumble, "your lips. The sound—"

"Wild," I start shakily.

"Can you feel it?" He pushes.

"You shouldn't."

"You're twenty-six to my thirty-four. I think we're old enough and sensible—"

I walk away from age and sensibility to my breakfast and Kristyn's suspicious eyes. Wielding my cutlery like a weapon gives me satisfaction. Hearing the back door open and knowing Wild and his gardening class are out there gives me no satisfaction.

He's saying things he shouldn't and ruining us.

And I should do more than put up a half-hearted attempt to stop him. I can tell him to stop if I want to, and Wild will stop.

I just have to say the word.

I can just stand from the table, go out the back door, and tell him he's making me uncomfortable. The end.

My butt sinks deeper into my seat.

Under Charlie and Kristyn's watchful eyes, I'm beginning to feel like I'm in a spy drama or one of those reality TV shows. Every glance I shared with Wild is being dissected and judged before my very eyes.

I have to lie about my fake engagement, and I also have to convince my best friend and brother that the fake isn't going to become real .

And there is that kiss. What was I even thinking kissing Wild? I could have just hugged him or held his pinky. I try to imagine holding pinkies to convince Megan, and a laugh spills from my lips before I can hold it.

"What's funny?" Charlie immediately asks.

I don't answer.

"Evie."

"Leave me alone."

Then Charlie says, "It's not proper to burst into laughter for no reason in the presence of guests—"

"Are you seriously quoting our stepmother? And since when did you become guests!"

Wild, who just walked in from the backyard, takes my hand. I can stay with my annoying brother and his traitorous wife, or I can go with Wild, who won't shut up about that kiss. Jackie helps me decide by racing outside.

I still have to take her to Mrs. Izaacs anyway.

In a short time, Wild has already transformed the backyard. There are no stones or any litter. His thumb presses against the center of my palm, reminding me he still holds my hand. I jerk away, checking the garden and wishing we could return to the way we were before so I could join him in the gardening class.

It would be fun.

"They are holding hands." The gleeful shout comes from Ro through the iPad Wild has mounted on a chair.

Everyone is here, even Jaxon and Rhys. Carla is in the kitchen, and I can see Will at the counter, downing coffee. Asa is sharply dressed in a suit, in his study, head down, writing quickly. Carla hushes Ro while studying my face.

"Are you okay? Are you getting enough sleep?" Carla asks.

"If I were in a fake engagement with Wilder, I wouldn't be able to sleep either.” Rhys grumbles before I can answer.

I groan as everyone bursts into laughter. Wild rolls his eyes. "I know it might pain you to hear this, but I'm considered a catch in these parts."

"A catch? What's a catch?" Jax asks.

"You should read more," Wild says like he's been looking forward to hitting his brother with that one.

"A douche who believes he's God's gift to women." Asa stretches his hands above his head and finally gives us his attention. The bags under his eyes have bags. He probably worked all night.

"And he catches basketballs," Sisi adds.

"Hey!" Wild calls out. "That's not what it means!"

They start arguing about that, and it's entertaining just listening to them bicker and rip Wild apart. He's the most laid-back of the men, never taking life too seriously. Ro is also laid back but not like Wild.

Wild is the fun one, the favorite uncle.

"I'm taking this case up with Diana.” He threatens Jax. "She's the only one I trust."

"Not even your fake wife?" Jax teases.

"That's why it's called fake, bozo," Sisi replies.

Carla catches my eye, and hers are full of concern. I smile what I hope is a reassuring smile. Just being around them and being accepted by them is a blessing. I can't afford to lose it. Them.

Propping my chin on my hand, I nod to let her know I'm alright. Except for her confusing son.

“So, what's the latest?" Ro asks. "You're holding hands already, but what have you had to do to convince people?"

"Nothing," I say quickly. Too quickly. From the raised eyebrows, I know I've stuck my foot into my mouth.

As one, the Carringtons and Gardners lean forward until their features expand to exaggerated proportions on screen. I rear back, looking to my partner for help, but one look at his smirk and I know I have another traitor at my side.

"Nothing," I repeat without much conviction.

"So, something happened?" Will of all people is also interested. "Wilder."

There's a warning in the one word and a question, too. I wonder what they've talked about because Wild is no longer smirking. He's squirming in his seat.

"They've kissed," Sisi announces without a shred of doubt. "And very recently, too."

And chaos rain.