Page 59 of On the Wild Side

“Like hell.”

“What I do with my life doesn’t concern you,” she says again, her voice breezier this time. “Now, do you want coffee, or are you going to fuck right off?”

“You’ve been parked at his house at night all the goddamn time for months now, and I want to know?—”

“Get any closer,” I say, stepping forward, “and I’m going to put my boot up your ass.”

“I’m not doing this with you,” Millie says when he doesn’t move an inch at my warning. Her voice isn’t as hard, and her eyes have softened, but she doesn’t back down. “I’m not doing this, Holden.”

“Goddamn it.” He pushes off of the counter and stomps out of the coffee shop, the door flinging under the force of the shove.

“You ever going to tell me what the fuck happened there?” I ask her as she stares at the doorway that he just stormed out of.

“No.” She shakes her head and reaches for a towel, letting out a gusty breath as she wipes it over the countertop. “It doesn’t matter. And for the record, I’mnotfucking Bridger. People have got to stop asking me that.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have your car parked in front of his house every night,” Chase says. “This is a small town, Mill. People talk.”

“Obviously. Busybodies.” She makes a face, and then the place starts to fill up with the book club girls, so I take my leave and head over to Abbi’s.

“Wherewereyou?” Daisy demands as I walk through the door. “We’ve been waitingforever.”

“You’ve only been home from school for two hours,” I remind her and kiss the top of her head before I round the island and pull Abbi in for a big hug. God, I missed her today. Her arms tighten around me, and when I pull back, she’s grinning up at me. “Got a kiss for me?”

“Maybe one.” She boosts up on her toes, kisses my lips, and then turns back to the dinner bubbling on the stovetop.

“I want a kiss!” Daisy races into the kitchen, holding up her arms, and I scoop her up and kiss her cheek, making her laugh. “Your whiskers are scratchy.”

“Oh, no, not the scratchy whiskers!” I rub my face against her neck, making her giggle, as I carry her around to the other side of the island so we’re out of Abbi’s way. “We’re having spaghetti for dinner. That surprises me.”

“Why?” Daisy asks.

“Because you hate spaghetti, remember? It looks like Robert’s hair.”

“He got a haircut, so it’s okay now,” she replies as I set her down, and I share a look with Abbi. “Why were you so late this time?”

“I had to help a calf be born.”

That makes Daisy frown. “I thought all the calves were already born.”

I loved telling Daisy all about calving season when the babies started to come in February and then taking her out to see them. It’s our most strenuous time of year, but it was fun to show Daisy the tiny cows at the ranch.

“One decided to come late, and the mama had a hard time delivering him.”

“Oh, no, is she okay?” Abbi asks from the kitchen.

“Yeah, she’s fine now. I think they’ll both recover nicely. They’re tucked in the barn for the night. Now, what movie are we watching?”

“Elsa,” Daisy says with a grin.

“Didn’t we watch that last week? And the week before that? We know all the words.”

“It’s myfavorite,” she reminds me, patting my arm as if in sympathy.

“Well, I guess the cold never bothered me anyway.” I buss her cheek once more and then turn my attention to my lady. “What can I help with?”

“It’s ready,” she says as she pours the pasta into a strainer. “If you’ll pull the bread out of the oven, we can dish up.”

“I’mstarving,” Daisy says as she climbs into her chair at the table.

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