Page 71 of The Summer of Wild

I love it when a serendipitous scheme falls into place.

"Ingrid!" Pierre hollers from the back room.

Groaning, I heave myself out of my chair and stomp down the hallway. "Yeah?"

"I need help hauling in supplies from my trunk," he whines.

I glance between the back door and Pierre. "I get paid to answer phones. Not to unload your car."

"I waxed your overgrown garden for free," he reminds me.

"Ugh," I roll my eyes dramatically. "Fine."

I help Pierre with the boxes. He moves twice as many as I do, but what does he expect? I'm free labor and I'm not rushing.

Once his trunk is empty, and I've worked up a sweat, it's time to clock out. I check in Pierre's afternoon wax, then grab my bag. As I do, the door swings open, and bottled-up lightning enters.

"What are you doing here?" I try to hide a smile.

"How do you feel about crossing bucket list item #1 off our list?" Wilder flashes his eyebrows at me.

"Get a tattoo?"

Wilder nods. "I made us an appointment."

"But... but... it's..." I stammer.

"Get it out, Blondie."

"It's Thursday. We don't do bucket list items on weekdays." It is an unspoken rule, but we both work during the week.

He crosses his arms over his chest. "We're making an exception."

"I have plans for us this weekend, anyway," I inform him.

"You do?"

I walk towards the door, stopping when I reach Wilder. I glance around, making sure no one can see me. Then, I place a hand on his chest and stand on my tippy toes, quickly leaving a peck on his lips.

"What was that?" His top teeth sink into his lower lip.

"I believe," I smirk, "they call that a kiss."

His face softens as he stares down at me. It's electric, the way his fingers feel when they brush my arm.

"Who is this?" I hear Pierre's obnoxious voice.

I whip around to face him.

"Ooh," Pierre waggles his dark, bushy eyebrows. "I'd like to wax his body."

"Paws off, Pierre," I try not to snarl. "He's mine." Woah, Ingrid. Let's rein it in. He's yours. For now.

"I thought you were dating that pale Allred boy," Pierre tilts his head to the side.

"They broke up," Wilder enters the chat.

"Pierre," my annoying coworker says as he holds his hand out.

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