Page 22 of Wolfish Desire
“Don’t worry, we’ll set some money aside so you can buy your new girlfriend cars or jewelry or whatever you’re bribing her with so that she’ll agree to be seen with you in public. Hey, what was her name again?”
“It’s Mind-Yer-Own-Beeswax,” I carefully pronounce. “With an accent over the second E in beeswax. It’s French.”
Kane snorts out a laugh and hangs up on me.
Although I would rather call Sierra, I text instead, so she can take her time responding. Last night was extremely intense. For it to be followed by a difficult morning feels like… well, not a red flag, exactly. Maybe yellow.
But if she’s having any doubts, now is when they’re going to rear their ugly heads.
I would love to chat as soon as you feel up to it. This morning must have been stressful. Hopefully things with your dad went smoothly, but I’d like to be here for you if you need to vent or would like someone to make you a grilled cheese sandwich. Your place or mine, cheddar or Swiss, just let me know.
Of course if you need some alone time, that’s fine too. Just please let me know that you’re okay.
I also have something to tell you that shouldn’t be said over text. Don’t worry, it’s a good thing.
I plug my phone into the charger. I know I’m going to have one eye riveted to the screen until it lights up.
14
SIERRA
It was a huge relief when Dad left shortly after breakfast. It was an even huger one that he barely grilled me at all about Kingston.
Dad knows all about the Wolfe family and respects the brothers. He was obviously surprised to see Kingston and I together in our various states of undress, but he wasn’t angry. If anything, he was amused. Maybe even slightly embarrassed.
Good. Maybe that’ll teach him to call before dropping in on someone.
As soon as Dad leaves, I take a long hot bath to clear my head—not to mention soothe all the muscles I used for the first time last night. Apparently, I was using my inner thighs to latch onto Kingston. My hips feel a bit strange, too.
Totally worth it, of course.
While I soak in the tub, staring out at the gently waving treetops, I’m overcome by a wave of gratitude. I’ve been terrified that people will see me as just another girl who came from money who didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life. Yet here I am, free to do whatever I want and to be my own person without anyone breathing down my neck.
I’m not shiftless anymore.
Dad likes my nature arrangements, and Kingston thinks they’ll sell well around here. Chloe even sent me a text that she’s “reimagining” her friend Bella’s condo and needs three large vertical arrangements for the corner of the dining room.
When I finally get out and wrap up in a big fluffy robe, I’m grinning at myself in the mirror, eager to see Kingston.
I get ready, taking some time to find a cute, flirty, pale green sundress and adding a bit of eyeliner. Then I check my phone, reading Kingston’s texts over several times. Somehow, he knew exactly what to say and what I needed to hear. Maybe because he already knows me.
So what if this has been so fast? It’s right. I know it in my bones.
I send him a text.
On my way to your house. Are you there?
He answers in seconds, as if he’s been waiting for my response.
Kingston: Yep. Is everything OK?
Very okay :)
I drive carefully on the winding road to his house, pleased that my car now steers well enough to avoid the worst of the potholes.
When I pull up in front of Kingston’s place, he comes running out front to open the car door after I park. The second I step out, his strong arms enfold me, pulling me tight to his chest, murmuring into my hair. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”
“For…?”
