Page 27 of An Unfinished Memory

“Rolf said he was cheering the loudest as usual,” Mom continued excitedly. “John and I couldn’t get there in time— Oh.” She and Dad murmured, then Mom came back on. “We have to go. Petra’s calling. She’s at a special training camp—we can’t miss her.”

“Tell her hi,” I said automatically. I missed Petra, but she’d long forgotten me in pursuit of skating greatness.

“Will do, Mutton. Love ya.” The line went dead.

“Bye,” I muttered. Sighing, I checked the time on my phone. Almost ten. Scant light filtered infrom the blinds. I’d already watered my flowers and the garden. Wilder was coming again tonight. He had to work tomorrow night, but he was on call starting at noon, so he could justify not going to the ranch.

This would be our third time hooking up. We were being intentional. We’d planned it. Like a workout. No feelings involved.

What was I doing?

My gleeful clit told me to shut up. My privates were yelling “Wilder Knight, come on down!”

Restless, I moved Berry to a cushion and started pacing. I hadn’t bought a TV for my new place. Regret snaked a tiny tendril around my brain, but I shook it off. I’d spent enough of my life watching TV.

A half hour and a clean fridge later, headlights flashed through my window. Anticipation coursed down my spine. Wilder.

The garage door rattled open. My pickup sat outside. The equivalent of a sock on the doorknob if anyone knew what we were up to.

He came in, looking as hot and rugged as last time, only with a snug black shirt instead of green. He’d left his hat in the car. Since almost getting busted by Aggie, he’d made sure to continue limiting the spread of his belongings. I leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Hey,” he said and shut the door behind him. His deep voice caressed my eardrums and worked its way lower. Wilder Knight would be coming on down.

“Hey.”

He cocked his head. “What’s wrong?”

I didn’t think the annoyance remained written across my face. For a stubborn man, he could be perceptive. “It’s that time of the month.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. He knew what I meant. “How are your parents? Or should I say, how’s Honey’s skating career?”

My laugh was empty. Wilder had witnessed my moods after my parents’ calls. I hated the childish feeling inside me, the kid who was jealous of her sister and wished her parents were around more. I stuffed it down, but Wilder was drawing those emotions back out.

The only thing between us was supposed to be divorce papers and sex. I talked to Aggie about what bothered me with my parents, but it was too late to bug Aggie. I couldn’t exactly phone a friend when her brother was at my house for sex.

“Honey’s getting gold. Petra’s going to get gold. But they asked about the clinic to make sure I’m not a complete letdown.”

His mouth turned down. “You’ve never been a failure.”

“I’ve never been a winner like Melon.” We’d said this back and forth plenty of times over the years, and I had needed to hear it again.

“You don’t need blades and a medal to be a winner.” I lifted a shoulder, and he propped a hand on his hip. “Do we need to go over it again?”

“No.” I rolled my eyes and repeated the litany Wilder used to repeat every time I got upset with my family. “I put myself through college and vet school. I ran my own business—even though we both know it wasn’t my own—your dad was a mob boss, and I had no choice.” Wilder hadn’t ever recited the last part.

His mouth quirked. “Believe me, I know the ways he tried to control people.” He cupped a hand around hisear. “What’s the success rate of getting into veterinary school again?”

I rolled my eyes, but my mood lifted. “Ten to fifteen percent.”

“Mm. Sounds competitive. And you do run your own business now.”

“Yeah. I just wish I grew out of wanting my parents’ approval and attention.” I shook my head and pushed my hair off my face. Wilder’s gaze dropped to my boobs. I’d showered after messing around in the yard and hadn’t put a bra on.

He lifted his gaze to mine.

I stuck my chest out farther. “I have some frustration to work off.”

A sexy grin spread across his face. For the rest of the night, I didn’t have to worry about dwelling on more than his strong body and talented touch.

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