Page 40 of Hot Shot

The flush of my cheeks is involuntary. My nose prickles. But I smile. “Of course. I am yourwife,after all.”

My joke does its job, and he cracks a little smile.

I should be so fucking mad at him. And I am.

Kinda.

I sigh, feeling exhausted as I turn for the door and we exit the truck.

The house is full of people dressed in black holding plastic plates stacked with casseroles in their hands. I follow the expanse of Wilder’s back through the crowd, and he stops here and there, shaking hands with people occasionally. There are guys he played against in high school here, as well as family members who learned he’s Cricket’s father and that he played pro ball.

So I take my job as wifey seriously and keep us moving until we make it to the table of food.

With a relieved breath on reaching our goal, I’m about to crack a joke about macaroni salad when a deep voice says from behind him, “Didn’t think you’d show.”

Confused, Wilder turns, and he’s nearly nose to nose with a guy who appears to be more wolf than man.

The wolf looks like he hasn’t slept in a year, with dark half-moons under his eyes and bloodshot whites. His scruff is days old, the stubble disappearing into his collar. Beneath the dark beginnings of his beard, his jaw is set.

“Excuse me?” Wilder answers without cowering, meeting the wolf’s energy.

“I didn’t think you’d come to Ashley’s funeral. Never bothered to come around before.”

The wolf smells like bourbon. A few people nearby are looking.

“If I’d known there was a reason to, I would have.” Wilder steps back enough to extend a hand. “And your name is?”

Wolf ignores Wilder’s offer. “Trent Rhodes. We used to play each other in high school. Still play in rec sometimes, too.”

Recognition passes across Wilder’s face. His hand lowers. “You used to date Ashley.”

“I’vealwaysdated Ashley.”

“I recall it being very off and on. Mostly off.”

God the wolf looks like he might hit somebody.

So I throw on a smile, wondering if I can help. “Hi, we haven’t met—I’m Cassidy. Wilder’s wife.” I slip my arm into the crook of Wilder’s elbow.

He notices me for the first time and blinks. “Wife?”

I nod, still smiling. “It’s the craziest story. We used to date in high school too, and?—”

His gaze shifts back to Wilder. I realize then that he’s very,verydrunk.

Paul approaches with Patty in tow, Cricket at her side.

“Trent, son—” Paul starts, squeezing the wolf’s shoulder.

But he shrugs Paul off, looking at Cricket with glistening eyes. “Ashley always said she wasn’t mine, but I never believed her.”

Cricket shrinks behind her grandmother, her eyes big.

That’s all I need to see.

I soften that smile I’ve been wearing and put myself between her and the men. The wolf is still talking. I’ve tuned him out.

“Wanna come outside with me, Cricket?” I ask. “I think I saw a swing in the yard. Is that yours?”

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