Page 33 of An Unfinished Memory

Carla Bosworth would’ve been happy to cheer him up.

What if he ran into her and needed consolation?

My gut churned. I shouldn’t care. I believed that he hadn’t been with anyone since the divorce. I didn’t truly think he’d sought out Carla or anyone else, but the thought didn’t shut that part of my mind up.

I left Aggie’s place with a promise to see her at darts on Thursday. At home, I played fetch with Oreo and pulled some weeds before I went inside. I threw a plate of leftover meatloaf into the microwave and sat at my island to wait and glare at my phone.

I should leave it alone. We were only supposed to be sleeping together. Instead of thinking it served him right, I thought of him leaving in the middle of his birthday party and coming home to an empty house.

Huffing out a breath, I punched out a message to Wilder.Sorry to hear about your birthday party.

I pushed the phone far away. It vibrated on the table and continued to ring. The corner of my mouth ticked up. Wilder didn’t carry on long text conversations. He didn’t have the patience. When it came to me, he called rather than finding a reason to cut off the thread.

Warmth nestled around my heart when I answered. I was flirting with getting attached to my ex-husband again.

No. This was like checking on a friend. I was tryinghard not to be in love with Wilder, but love or not, I would always care about him.

“Hi,” I answered just as the microwave dinged.

“Am I interrupting dinner?”

I briefly shut my eyes at the deep rumble going right into my eardrum and vibrating down to my groin. “I just heated up some meatloaf.”

He groaned. Same effect on my body. “Did you make it?”

“Yes, but now it takes me three days to eat it for lunch and dinner before it’s gone.”

“You can make a half recipe, Sutton.”

“I can’t help it. I’m used to planning ahead with meals, since Mom and Dad usually forgot to leave me with new groceries.”

He grunted. He’d heard the stories before. Some of them. I hadn’t wanted to tell a guy who was surrounded by family and people who sought him out every day that I had been a forgotten kid. “Make it when I’m coming down, and I’ll eat it for breakfast before I go—after I feast on you.”

Desire lit my nerves like a winning bid onThe Price Is Right. Yes, please. I fanned myself. Was this a hot flash? Most likely a Wilder flash. I didn’t text him so I could get hopelessly turned on when he wasn’t around to do a damn thing about it. “Aggie said you got called out right after they got there.”

There was a beat of silence. “Did you tell them ‘I told you so?’” he asked softly.

His family had been buffered from his schedule, and it wasn’t that they didn’t believe me. They might not have understood why his absence had bothered me so much,but each of Wilder’s siblings knew how the ties to the family businesses messed with their own lives.

“No. There are no hard feelings from them.”

“They’re not going to divorce me for missing out?”

I clamped my teeth together. Ouch. His bitterness was undeniable.

“Shit,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean—I’m just irritated about yesterday.”

“I get it.”

“I know. The cake was good. I’ll be eating donuts for three days for lunch and dinner.”

I smiled, grateful we were on safer ground. I couldn’t rehash the problems in our marriage and keep sleeping with him—and I wanted to keep sleeping with him. “Eliot would take some.”

“I think he did, unless the kids ate a shitload of cake.”

I laughed. “Eliot’s got your back.”

“My siblings are good for that.” His tone sobered. “I’m glad Aggie has yours.”

---