Page 40 of Wild Promise

“Go…fish,” he stammered. “My vote is the only one that counts.”

We all laughed, slowly overcoming a year’s worth of lingering sorrow.

“Fine, I’ll get the cards,” Olivia said on a sigh.

“I need to check on dinner,” I told them, leaving them to argue over how many rounds of cards we had to play.

The kitchen was warm and smelled of a mix of lemon cleanser and fresh spices. I popped the top off the roasting pan, adding another dash of pepper, and smiled as I imagined how happy Dad would be to see red meat on his plate for a change. It was a dish he could only have in moderation and a treat we normally couldn’t afford, but I’d been lucky and found a decent cut on sale.

As I was placing the pan back in the oven, my phone chimed from its spot on the table. I peeked quickly toward it, wondering who’d be calling me on a Sunday. If it was another bill collector, so help me, I would lose all my cool.

After taking my time wiping down the counter and washing my hands, I gave in and checked my phone. Seventy-eight unopened emails, six new texts, one missed call, and one new voicemail. The number on my screen was still labelled unknown, but I’d recognize those digits for the rest of my life.

I punched in the code for my voicemail with shaking hands, my pulse racing hard.

“Hey, firecracker,” his voice rumbled in my ear. “Hope you’re enjoying your day off. I saw the snow and it reminded me of last night, sitting in the dark, cuddled up next to you, and that sexy fucking sound you made when I kissed up the side of your neck.” He groaned, and it was the sound of a man in need. A sound that sent a shockwave of desire rolling through me.

“Anyway, I just wanted to call and let you know I was thinking of you.”

I saved it, then went back to the start.

The second time through, the words barely mattered. It was his voice. Low and rough and warm, like it was curling around me from across town. The way he said firecracker. The way he groaned. The way he paused before that last line, like maybe he’d wanted to say more.

I wanted to listen to it a hundred more times. I wanted—no, I needed—to hear that Zane beg-me-for-it Alexander was thinking of me too.

“Whoa,” Olivia exclaimed, surprising me as she entered the kitchen. “It smells amazing in here, but something tells me the food is not responsible for that look on your face.”

I fumbled with my phone but wasn’t fast enough to stop the message from starting to replay before my sister snatched it out of my hands.

“Olivia!” I protested, lunging at her.

My younger, taller sister held me off with one hand as she used the other to hold my phone to her ear.

“Please, it’s private,” I begged, giving up my physical struggle—it was pointless anyway.

Her mouth dropped open, and she turned to me with a playful glint in her eyes. “Holy shit, Meli. He sounds hot. Who is it?”

“No one.” I crossed my arms like a petulant child.

She smirked and then without another word hit a button on my phone and put it back up to her ear.

I sighed, wanting to stomp my foot at the fact that my sister was now hearing his message again instead of me.

“Hi,” she said, making the hairs on my arms stand at attention. “This is Olivia Marshall, Melina’s sister. Who’s this?”

My mouth went dry, and my lungs cramped, while I momentarily forgot how to breathe.

“Well, Zane Alexander” —she toyed with a lock of her hair, casting a look of satisfaction my way— “Meli’s standing here, all hot and bothered from your message. I think you better fix that situation sometime soon.”

She paused to laugh at something he said, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to punch her now or cut off that chunk of hair she was playing with while she was sleeping.

“Here, I’ll let you talk to her and figure it out.” She handed me the phone with a giant, mischief-making grin. “You’re welcome,” she said before sauntering away.

Goodbye, hair.

Every curse I knew rolled through my head as I struggled to find the right words to say. How could I follow a conversation like that?

“Hi,” I mumbled, unable to come up with anything better.