Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
I focused on cleaning up the mess we had made while making cheeseburger mac and cheese, then sugar cookies shaped like ghosts, witch hats, and pumpkins before adding Halloween sprinkles to them. We’d had another good day. I didn’t mind the mess. Just being here with her made everything else worth it.
The sound of a text alert went off, and I knew my phone was back in the living room with my computer. I scanned the room and found Sarah’s phone lying on a barstool. I picked it up just as it dinged again.
It was Wilder. The contact said World’s Best Dad. I stood there, holding it for a moment, trying to decide if I should answer it or leave it alone. He had clearly worked late and missed talking to her before bed. But then he might want to make sure she was okay.
Sliding my finger over the text, I typed in her passcode, which was her birthday.
Hey, sweetheart. Did you have a good day?
Then:
Sorry it’s late. I had work that kept me out longer than usual.
My finger hovered over the keys before I responded.
Sarah is in bed. I’ll let her know you texted when she wakes up in the morning.
Setting the phone on the counter, I went back to finish what I had been doing. Just as I picked up the dishcloth, the phone dinged again. I hadn’t expected him to respond to my text. I glanced back over my shoulder and figured it was something like thanks, then told myself it could wait. But the girl I always said was long gone seemed to peek out from under the rock she had been under, pushing me to go see what he had said. It was Wilder. With obvious frustration, I went to read his response.
I hate that I missed her. Did she have a good day at school? What did she do this afternoon?
Okay, wow. He was asking me? Shocking.
She got an A+ on her math quiz, didn’t miss one of her spelling words, and is supposed to bring cookies for her Halloween party next week. I can place an order at the bakery in town if you want me to. This evening, we made cheeseburger mac and cheese for dinner and watched Halloweentown.
I reread it to check for mistakes, then pressed Send. It was very unlikely he’d respond to me, so I put it back down and turned to finish cleaning up. I’d left out the mural painting and decorating we had done. He could see it for himself when he got home on Thursday night.
Even my best efforts to think of anything other than Wilder failed. My thoughts went there anyway. Sometimes, it was just hard to forget the past, and being here, in his home, made me weak when it came to warding them off.
Ten Years Ago
Cheerleading practice had been brutal. I wanted a hot shower, my favorite pajamas, and a cozy blanket. Instead, I was stuck sitting under a tree in front of the high school, waiting on Wells. He was supposed to pick me up thirty minutes ago. I had texted him three times and tried calling, but had gotten no response.
Groaning in frustration as I stared down at my phone, I wondered where he was and if I needed to call my dad. He wouldn’t be thrilled about having to leave work to give me a ride. He’d probably tell me to call Sylvia. She was the daughter with a car. Her mom had made sure she got one when she turned sixteen. I was seventeen and still had no car.
I’d rather walk the seven miles home than ride in her stupid car. The rumble of an engine filled the silence around me, and I stood up, hoping this was Wells. I didn’t want to be here when it got dark. The sun was already starting to set.
Squinting, I noticed the black Ford truck pulling up to the curb in front of me. That wasn’t Wells. He drove a dark blue Mustang. The truck belonged to Wilder. My heart rate sped up as I watched him. The passenger window rolled down, and without the tinted window hiding him, I could see his face. The flutters in my stomach were on high alert.
“Get in,” he called out.
I bent down and grabbed my pom-poms and book bag, then headed to do as he’d said. Wells must have sent him. I didn’t care why; I was just happy he had. I should feel guilty about it, but that was difficult when Wilder was there, looking sinfully handsome.
Opening the passenger door, I tossed my things into the backseat, then climbed inside. I didn’t miss the way Wilder’s gaze traveled down my body slowly. Taking advantage of the attention, I crossed my legs, making my cheerleading skirt ride up even more. If he wanted to look, I would happily let him.