Page 34 of Training the Heart

His throat bobs as he swallows, and for just a fraction of a second it makes me wonder if it’s possible that he could want me the way I want him right now. He blinks, then moves silently back to the kitchen to grab his own sundae as I let my legs give out like they’ve been begging to for the last three minutes. I sit down on the sofa below.

“Looks like we share the same guilty pleasures,” he says as he sits down beside me and manspreads, just to torture me further.

My face must show my worry because he actually smiles—the first real smile I’ve ever seen him wear. One that takes my goddamn breath away.

“Action movies and ice cream,” he says, amused.

Oh, those guilty pleasures. The cold ice cream slides down my throat and I need it. It’s way too fucking hot in here.

Wade says nothing else as he pulls upLethal Weaponand we eat our ice cream in silence.

I look to the thermostat on the wall beside me. It’s only seventy degrees in here. It looks like I’m the problem. I think I need to get out of this cabin, and fast.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Wade

“What the fuck is this?” I ask as I pull the front door open to the three Not Angels on my porch.

“What does it look like? It’s a party, Sergeant.” Ginger Danforth pats me on the chest as she breezes by me with two bottles of wine in one hand.

“Fuck me,” I grumble as CeCe and Olivia Sutton pile in behind her carrying brandy and more snacks than the grocery store has on its shelves.

“Ivy couldn’t come to Sangria Sunday so we brought Sangria Sunday to her.” Ginger smirks as she starts unloading all the mixings of sangria onto my counter. “Even brought our own bartender, and we’re putting a Camilla Danforth twist on it tonight—coconut rum, the way my mama makes it.” She gestures to the door and I see Nash coming through it with a look ofsorry, budon his face.

Ivy stands from the couch where we were just having dinner, smiling wide at the girls like she’s really fucking happy to see them, and why wouldn’t she be? The only person she’s really seen in four days is me. I try not to appear annoyed that our quiet dinner andOcean’s Elevenis over as I gather my plate.

“Is this alright?” Ivy asks me. Her blue eyes taking in my shift in mood immediately.

I soften my gaze. It’s not her fault they came barging in.

“Totally fine, Trouble. You could use a fun night.” I pat her shoulder.

She’s healing up just fine. Even walking around on her ankle a little, she says it rarely hurts unless she puts a lot of pressure on it. I’ve been doing a good job of keeping her fed, keeping her ankle iced and keeping her company as much as I can, especially every night around three or four a.m. when she appears in my living room in search of ice cream and action movies. After the third night I was just ready for her, ice cream in hand andThe Equalizerready to play.

Mercifully, she’s been wearing actual clothes, unlike the first night when it took every inch of my willpower not to fuck her ten ways from Sunday on my sofa, but you can bet your ass I burned every inch of her into my mind. The way her silky soft skin begged me to lick every bit of it, the way her chest rose and fell with every breath, her pebbled nipples begging for my touch as her pouty lips fell open and the pink of her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip when I stood over her. I’ve never been so overcome with an urge to take a woman in my life. I don’t even know how I sobered myself up. Sheer fucking strength that should’ve earned me a goddamn medal.

“Y’all are so sweet!” Ivy squeals.

“Way to give me a warning,” I say to Nash as I re-enter the kitchen.

“I didn’t even know what we were doing until I got in the truck,” he says, holding his hands up in surprise.

He gets out a knife to slice lemons while CeCe gives him a kiss on the cheek and Ginger and Olivia pour snacks into bowls to bring to the living room.

“Besides, you could use a guys’ night anyway, a break from playing house nurse. We’re gonna go to the big house to watch the Titans game with Pop when I’m done making the sangria. Got some of that craft beer from the brewery on 21.”

“Sorry I’m late, y’all. Fucking Gemma can never be on time,” Cole grunts as he bounds through the front door.

“Someone needs to remind her that her daughter should be her damn priority,” Ginger pipes up instantly from the living room, a heated look on her face.

“Maybe you could, I’ve tried fifteen hundred times,” Cole grumbles.

I pat him on the back—thank God Mabel has one reliable parent.

“I have half a mind to smack her around a little bit,” Ginger says as she turns and grins at CeCe and Olivia. “Like CeCe tried to in the summer.”

Cole shakes his head at Ginger. “Fuck, that is not the answer.” His gaze moves to Ginger’s and his brow furrows.

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