Page 14 of Wild Promise

“You’re a fucking sadist,” I mumbled, heading for the door.

“I’d rather be a happy sadist than a lonely chicken,” he called after me, flapping his arms like an idiot.

Even taunting me, he knew how to make me laugh, but I still waved goodbye with my middle finger.

I drove home with all the windows down, hoping the crisp mid-November air would clear my head. Instead, it just numbed my cheeks and froze my balls.

At least now they ached from the cold and not the memory of Melina’s perfect ass as she’d stormed away from me.

My coworkers called her the ice queen, but goddamn…the woman was all fire. I’d seen it in her eyes. Tasted it on her lips. And fuck, had it ever burned when she shot me down. Even the bite of early winter couldn’t douse that flame.

And still, I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

By the time I pulled up to my dark house, I was crawling out of my skin with cravings for her. But the pent-up desire faded fast when I noticed my elderly neighbor struggling with something in her driveway.

Throwing my truck into park, I hopped out and jogged over. “Mrs. Walker, is there something I can help you with?”

She straightened her crooked old body and turned to me with a smile. “Oh, Zane! Hello! I was just dragging my new Christmas tree into the house. I know it’s early, but it was on sale.”

I stepped past her and picked up the small potted evergreen. “It looks great. Let me bring it in for you.”

“You’re such a sweet boy.”

“That’s debatable,” I muttered, letting her lead the way.

The second she opened her front door, heat washed over me along with the smell of roasted chicken and spices rich enough to make my stomach growl.

She giggled, pointing to a spot in the corner for the tree. “Sounds like perfect timing. Why don’t you stay for supper? I have a lovely chicken in the oven.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense. I’ve cooked far too much for one person. You’d be doing me a favor by helping me eat it all.”

A home-cooked meal did sound better than the microwavable dinner waiting in my freezer. And her warm house already felt better than the dark cave waiting for me next door. “Then I’d love to stay. How can I help?”

“You go wash up. I’ve got everything covered.”

After doing as I was told, I joined her in the formal dining room where she’d set the table as though it were a special occasion. “Wow, Mrs. Walker, you didn’t need to go to all this trouble. I’d have been happy eating over the kitchen sink.”

“Nonsense. Only animals eat at a trough.”

I chuckled as I took the seat across from her. She might not be far off. “Well, I’m not a pig, but I am a single guy. No point in making too much of a fuss.”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“What about you?” I asked, fidgeting under her knowing gaze. “I hope you’re not eating alone every night.”

Her smile turned wistful, and she looked over her shoulder, drawing my attention to a group of photos on the wall.

“That one there.” She pointed to a black-and-white picture of a smiling man. “That’s my Archie. We had dinner together every single night of our fifty-three-year marriage. Didn’t matter how busy we were or what pressures he had at work, he’d get in his car and come home to me. Even when we were angry at each other for some silly little thing, we’d still sit across from each other and share a meal.”

She turned back to me with a soft, faraway look in her eyes. “I’m never alone, Zane. My memories of him keep me company.”

“Sounds like he was a good man.” I swallowed thickly, the words hard to fit past the unfamiliar lump in my throat.

“He was the best,” she agreed with a sigh. “One day, you’ll have that. A lifetime love.”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Walker. I’m not really marriage material.”