Page 111 of Wild As Her

She lifts her chin. "I don’t have a home, Jack. Just one I share with a business partner and landlord."

The words cut deep. I deserve it.

I climb the steps, stopping just in front of her. "I didn’t mean it. I was scared. That man, he breaks things. He’s brokenmefor most of my life. And the thought of him doing the same to you, I can’t take it."

Her eyes glisten. But she doesn’t move. "You said you wanted to protect me," she says. "But all you do is push me away."

"Because I love you too damn much." My voice shakes as I tell her.

Her eyes get glassier, and she sucks in a shocked breath. Her body tenses as she stares at me.

"I love you so much it makes me stupid. Makes me say thingsI don’t mean because I just want to keep you safe. But it doesn’t work. It just hurts you. And me. And I’m so sorry."

She steps forward, tears brimming. "Then stop keeping me at arm's length. Let me stand beside you and fight the fire with you. Not behind you."

I take her face in my hands, heart hammering. "I’m sorry. For all of it. For not being stronger. For not believing in us and leaving before. I won’t do it again. Come home with me. Please. Baby, please come home."

She closes her eyes.And then she nods.

Relieved, I grab her and pull her in for a hug and kiss her lips softly. “I love you so much, Wilder.”

She nods, tears in her eyes, “I love you, too.”

I press my forehead to hers. “Let’s go home and make up.”

She shakes and laughs, “Okay.”

“Cami? What did you say to him when we left the prison?”

She looks me in the eye and says, “I told him he’d never know his grandchildren.”

The world tilts, and I swear, I forget how to breathe. Because in that one sentence, sharp as barbed wire and quiet as a prayer, she just handed me the truth of everything I’ve ever wanted.

Not justher.Butus.A future and a family. And the truth is, there’s nothing I want more.

Chapter 28

Cami

Broke Down In A Truck by Kameron Marlowe

If someone had told me six months ago that Jack Jessop would be waiting on my front porch with a cocky smile, I would’ve laughed in their face.

And yet… here he is. A real-life dream come true that I can’t help but feel like I need to pinch myself about. He’s barefoot, and his shirt slightly wrinkled. Hair still damp from a shower. And a damn dish towel over his shoulder like he owns the place. Well, he does, I laugh to myself. That doesn’t bother me anymore. I just want to be where he is.

“Don’t freak out,” he says the second I step out of the truck, my body sore from a double shift between the coffee trailer and baking for tomorrow. “I cooked.”

I blink at him. “You… cooked?”

His grin is lazy, wicked. “Used the oven and everything.”

My laugh bubbles out before I can stop it, the exhaustion in my bones dissolve like sugar in tea. “Should I be scared?”

“Definitely. But I also made brownies, so it cancels it out if it turns out bad.”

God help me, I love this man.

Inside, he’s lit a few candles, which he has no idea the significance of. I was just thinking about how I’d never eaten dinner with him in candlelight. Now here we are. And the whole house smells like garlic and herbs and something warm I didn’t have to make with my own two hands. I kick off my boots, and before I can make it to the kitchen, Jack wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his chest.

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