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)
“Can we make popcorn?” she asked him hopefully.
“You just ate dinner,” he pointed out.
She shrugged. “But it’s a movie. You can’t watch a movie without popcorn.”
His lips curled at the ends in an amused smile. “Okay, fine. I’ll put a bag in the microwave.”
“But Oaky does it on the stove. I like it better that way.”
Wilder looked over at me as I made my way to the sink. “What?” he asked, looking confused.
I set my plate down and walked over to the oven, then opened the cabinet above it to pull out the container of kernels. I shook them and smiled at him. “The old-fashioned way,” I said, then turned to Sarah. “Get the pot, and I’ll get the oil,” I instructed.
“On it!” she exclaimed happily.
“Explain why you do it this way when we have microwave popcorn in the pantry,” Wilder said, watching us get our supplies.
“Because it’s fun,” Sarah told him, setting the large pot on the stovetop.
“What she said,” I replied.
He chuckled and shook his head. Turning, he took my plate and rinsed it before loading the dishwasher.
“While you heat the oil, I’ll go pick the movie,” Sarah told me, then hurried from the kitchen.
I glanced over at Wilder, who was making domestic work look sexy, before putting the oil in the pot.
This was going to mess my head up so bad. Being here with them like this. Wilder being nice to me. It was all making me want what I feared he would never give me.
“You still do the best thing that happened to you today thing,” he said. “That’s why Sarah asked us that. She got it from you.”
I smiled. “Yeah. When I pick Sarah up from school, I ask it, and I try to text her every day and ask.”
I hadn’t realized he remembered that about me. I hadn’t thought it was something memorable. Just my way of trying to focus on the good and not let the bad get to me. I had begun asking myself that question after my mom died.
“She loves you,” he said.
“And I love her.”
Even when I hadn’t wanted to, I’d loved her. She’d been a tiny little life, who was the result of my biggest heartbreak. But I fell in love with her anyway. It had been impossible not to.
“I don’t—” Wilder began, but Sarah came rushing back into the kitchen, holding up a DVD.
“I found it! The Polar Express!” she exclaimed.
I turned to her. “Then, we will need hot cocoa too.”
She nodded enthusiastically.
“Do I get the packets out of the pantry, or do you make that like a pilgrim too?” Wilder asked.
“Pilgrim-style,” I replied.
He nodded. “Of course you do.”
“The packets are for the lazy and those with no taste buds,” Sarah told him, repeating what she’d heard me say.
“When Oakley isn’t here, that’s how we make it,” Wilder replied.
Sarah grinned up at him. “But she’s here now, so we get the good stuff. Not the Dad stuff.”
“Ouch!” he said, placing a hand over his heart.
“Sorry, Dad, there are just some things Oaky does better.”
I didn’t look up from the pot because if I did, I knew I would laugh.
Thirty-Three
Wilder
I hadn’t said anything to Oakley but good night after Sarah was in bed.
During the movie, I’d waged an inner battle on what was best for Sarah. I wanted Oakley in my bed—preferably naked and under me, but I would settle for just in my bed.
But if I started that, if Sarah thought we were something more … sure, she’d be ecstatic. The idea of having Oakley here all the time. Us doing things together … like a family …
That was what had stopped me. I wasn’t willing to do something that could break Sarah’s heart. What if it didn’t work? What if I got so fucking wrapped up in Oakley again that I lost her and it destroyed me? This’d impact Sarah. I had to put her first. Not my need for Oakley Watson.
The light knock on my bedroom door interrupted my thoughts. I went to open it and found Oakley standing there, staring up at me with wide, nervous eyes. Fucking hell. How was I going to resist her when she was at my damn door? I’d been struggling enough without her here in front of me.
“I can’t sleep,” she whispered.
I was weak. I stepped back and let her come inside before closing the door and locking it. She was here now, and I was going to end up fucking her. I didn’t need Sarah walking in to witness it. Talk about scaring her. That would do it.
Turning around, I watched as she walked over and ran her fingertips along my blue quilt that covered the king-size bed I’d bought when I got the house.
“If you want me to go, just tell me,” she said, not looking at me.