Page 34

Evie

"Do you want me on my knees?"

I blink at Wild and his new brand of outrageousness. "I'm not like you. I'm reasonable enough to know we will get there when we get there."

He pouts. By pout, I mean his slightly full lower lip juts out, and he's giving me 'I'm on my knees' eyes.

I will not be forced down the 'I wonder what his children will look like' road. No, sir.

"Please."

Pulling my eyes from his, I search the rest of the empty car for help. "You can't be begging me to beg you to tell me where we're going for our third date."

"It tells me you're eager. Didn't I beg you to spill the surprise on the wood fair date? One of our best dates ever, by the way?"

"Just because you did it doesn't mean I should."

"It doesn't mean you should, but you should consider it. Positively."

Only Wild can make the unreasonable sound reasonable. "If wearing my best sundress, leaving Jackie behind and being in the car with you doesn't spell eager—"

"It spells I ’ m going out with you; that's not enough."

"Wilder Carrington!"

He sniffs. "I'm just saying if you were bouncing in your seat and begging me to tell you where we're going, it would add a cutesy touch."

"Cutesy?"He has to be deliberately pulling my leg.

"Cutesy," he confirms.

For sure, he's deliberately pulling my leg. I plaster my face into the window, trying to get as far away from my date as possible.

He doesn't speak for the next three minutes, and a sigh of relief escapes my lips, and my eyes start to close.

"So,"he shouts, "please and please, beg me."

I don't care how attractive Wild is, especially with the hint of his beard on his face. I'm going to kill him.

I'm searching for possible weapons when he pulls before a campground.

“Oh." I breathe.

Wild is all smug smiles and puffed-out chest. "Notice you didn't sleep a wink during the drive? I win."

"A one-sided competition is not it, buddy."

He gets the door for me. It's a nice gesture, and I'm all set to say thank you like the well-mannered human I am until I catch his smirk. I give him a haughty look instead.

Wild's eyes flash. It's my only warning of his impending revenge before he moves his hand from my elbow to my waist. My breath goes up and down like a car struggling to start. His hold is firm, and our faces close.

Too close. I can count his eyelashes close.

I can't look away.

He lifts me from the car and slowly, oh, so slowly, deposits me on safe ground.

My senses are hopelessly scrambled.

He gets even closer. "Look for Kristyn."

"Huh?"

"Kristyn."

I'm still staring at him stupidly when I hear my name. Andthere'sKristyn walking too fast. Charlie is right on her heels, begging her to slow down.

Kristyn sees Wild and bursts into tears. "Charlie doesn't know a peg from a pole. The tent is ruined!"

Charlie scowls at his wife. "You don't have to be so loud."

"You said you could do it."

"I can do it,"he insists. "It's just the YouTube one is different from this one. Wilder bought a fake tent."

"Wilder, who grew up camping, bought a fake tent?"

"You just said it. Wilder grew up camping, so stop rubbing it in my face!"

"You were with him for over half of those camping trips, and you didn't learn a thing?"

"Ididn't grow up camping—"

"Come on,"Wild whispers near my ear, making me jump. "I need your help."

I still haven't recovered from that moment earlier. So, I'm wary as I join him at the back of the car.

He packed every kind of utensil: knives, forks, plates, bottle openers, serving spoons and cups. Even scissors. And a stove. And gas. I'm impressed. There are sleeping bags, pillows, blankets, bags, and toiletries.

As he works, Wild doesn't stop throwing me soft glances. With every glance, I burn, and my senses continue leaving me in tiny crumbs.

I'm also busy trying to dodge Kristyn's knowing glances. That's me. Miss Busy.

Wild comes over with a bucket. Again, his eyes hold mine. My stupid heart slams against my ribs. He starts filling the bucket with sand, and I breathe easier.

"What's that for?" Kristyn asks.

"Fire."

Wild has no trouble setting up the tent. Charlie gets a glare from Kristyn, and he blows her a kiss.

I try to help with the wood—there are different types, but Wild's fiery glare forces me to retreat as if burned. Finally, we're set up. Or Wild has everything set up.

Wild gets the fire going. I set out the ingredients he brought: chocolate bars, cookies, graham crackers, marshmallows, fruits like bananas and strawberries, chocolate spread, peanut butter, bacon, pretzels, coconut, spices like cinnamon and chili powder, and peanut butter cups.

"Wow," I say.

"You can say that again,"Kristyn says, popping a chocolate bar into her mouth.

We settle in. It's warm, safe, and cozy. I never want to leave. Kristyn and Charlie huddle together, whispering. Charlie has a possessive hand over her stomach.

I'm avoiding Wild. That moment in the car is still between us, waiting to pounce.

"Want to eat now?"he asks, voice low.

Instead of answering, I dash to the restroom.

When I return, he's waiting. And Charlie and Kristyn are still whispering.

Wild taps the empty spot beside him. Fine.

My dysfunctional heart and I sit beside Wild. He throws a blanket over us. Between the flickering fire and the quiet, and the company, it's a perfect date night. I want to capture the moment like a scene in a drama I can go back to re-watch a hundred times.

But the tension between me and Wild makes it difficult to breathe. It's so thick I want to slice it with a knife.

Where did all the teasing and fake groveling in the car go?

Food makes it a little better.

Charlie and Kristyn let go of each other long enough to join us. We talk and laugh among ourselves. Charlie shares something that happened at work. I have a never-ending reel of highlights with my kids. By far, the best part is Kristyn giving us her pregnancy update. I love hearing about the changes to her body and mood and how her feelings for the child inside are evolving with every passing day.

It's a miracle.

Wild disappears and comes back with Scrabble and a guitar.

"You thought of everything,"I whisper.

"It's all I've been thinking about,"he tells me. "I get a chance to impress you, and you think I won't maximize it?"

Maximize isn't a hot word. Tell that to my runaway pulse.

We play games. Kristyn suggests attaching a sum for every loss. I lose every game. It's one of the best nights of my life. There's so much warmth and family and safety and laughter. And I'm down two hundred dollars. I blame it on the simmering tension between me and Wild. It's like a rope tethering me to him. In my head, the rope is a fire engine red color.

I can't focus.

After the games, I lay back. My belly is full, and my insides are toasty. I stare at Wild's profile and imagine the scrape of his stubble against my palm.

Wild glances back at me, and I quickly turn my face to the night sky. Oh. The stars are so close and winking at us. I grip Wilder's arm and point. "See?"

He joins me, shifting until he's stretched out beside me. Now, we have our heads close together, looking at the stars. There are so many winking and playing peekaboo. It's awe-inducing being this close to them.

"Beautiful,"Wild whispers. He sounds almost worshipful.

"Right?" He gets it.

I chance a glance at him, but I'm such a coward, fearful of what I will find. Our hands under the blankets are close, so close I can feel the drag of his skin against mine.

Can he feel it?

I sneak another glance and find him on his side, fully and unabashedly staring at me.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," I croak.

"Tell me a secret."

"You know everything about me."

"You're better than my favorite book I like to read over and over again."

An army of butterflies attack my belly.

"Nothing?" he asks.

I shake my head.

Is he disappointed? I am disappointed and frustrated by my cowardice.

Wild turns to his back, and our hands brush again. I bite my lip.

The stars swim before my eyes. His fingers move under the blanket. My heart begins a slow, stomach-twisting thud. His fingers brush my palm, sending shivers down my spine.

"Okay?" he asks permission.

I nod. My mouth is too dry for coherent speech.

His hand finally engulfs mine, and it's such a relief that I feel like crying. It feels like being fed your favorite food after months of starvation.

His hand squeezes.

"Let me tell you a secret then."His thumb makes a pass over the back of my hand. "My mother liked music. We had a grand piano in our living room she played sometimes. The guitar was hers."

I return his squeeze. I know what he's doing. He's taking my hand and leading me into the deepest part of his world.

"She taught me to play. This is the first time I have taken the guitar out,"he admits.

Our hands beneath the blankets tighten briefly. Then he sits up. I follow, the thread holding us together dragging me up.

He tries the guitar, but it only emits a confusing mix of sounds. With his head down and eyebrows furrowed in concentration, adult Wilder is replaced by an adorable child learning to play from his mother. My heart does a painful squeeze in my chest.

I wait while he does complicated looking things to the guitar. When he shoots me a triumphant smile, I know to brace myself. He starts playing, and it's beautiful.

Kristyn sits up. Charlie tends to the fire. I let my eyes fall closed as I savor this gift he's giving me. And when the music stops, I have a lump in my throat and tears streaming down my face.

Wild sets aside the guitar and presses his forehead to mine. "Evie."

I tip my head up, yearning for his kiss.

But he turns his head away, trailing a kiss across my temple. His hand takes mine under the blanket and squeezes. "Evie,"he says my name like a prayer.

And my heart cracks.

Date three of seven, and I'm done fighting this. Us.

All these years, I've had my feelings for Wild buried so deep where it won't hurt. I burned and buried the ashes. And I thought I did an excellent job of it.

Lies. I've never stopped loving him.

And no, it's not a juvenile crush. Or the moon-eyed simpering of an immature teenager. While I thought my feelings were safely burned and buried, they had evolved into something stronger. Far stronger. It's the love of a woman for a man who's a rock, and there's no use denying it.

Why did I ever think I could turn off my feelings for Wild? He's a stamp permanently engraved on my heart.

His arms come around me, and he whispers his next words directly into my ear. "If I can make you fall half in love with me as I am with you, it will be more than enough for me.

What?