Page 107 of One Wild Wish

Owen smiled at me, the first full grin I’d seen him unleash, and I nearly flew off the bench. That smile was a blast of sunshine. Joy in a rugged, dimpled package. It was riding in a convertible, the wind whipping at my face.

“Like I said, nasty.” His grin turned smug.

I tried to contain my erratic heart. “Or your palate is as sophisticated as a squirrel’s.”

He chuckled, that delicious rumble amping up his hottness, and I clenched. Clitoris catnip. I also relaxed. Chatting with Owen was nice. I mean, his superhero smile and worn denim were as tempting as a Calvin Klein sample sale—I worked those sales hard and fast, and always came out satisfied—but this was different. A slow burn had warmth simmering low in my belly, promise in its lazy spin.

As we finished our food, both our cells rang.

“Jinx,” I said as we fiddled to get our phones. His smile hit me full force again.

Thirty seconds later, we both said, “Shit .”

I repeated my “Jinx,” but Owen’s levity had vanished. He blinked his long lashes and tossed his cell onto the wood table harder than necessary.

I reread my father’s text: Good news and bad. Didn’t get the Tesla gig, but I’m on their list now. If something comes up, they said they’ll call.

“You okay?” Owen asked.

“Fine,” I replied automatically. The way people said they were swell even if they’d just lost a limb. Social pleasantries. But this was the man who’d listened to my Maggot Incident. With him, the memory stung less.

“Actually, no. Not fine. My father has been out of work on and off forever. He had something lined up, but got passed over. Probably for someone younger, with a stronger body.” I focused on my shoelaces, one bow tied larger than the other. “My mother works two waitressing jobs, and I’ve helped out since high school and pay their mortgage now. I think it makes him feel less of a man.”

Owen’s hand drifted to my back, his large fingers splaying from the band of my jeans up my spine. “Can’t be easy for him, but sounds like he’s lucky to have you.”

I leaned into his touch, the action magnetic, so much heat focused in that one spot. “He says that all the time. Kind of breaks me.”

“I never knew mine,” he said quietly. His strong profile had become all sharp angles and serious lines. “My brother and I have different fathers that neither of us have met. We grew up on a commune in Texas with a hippie mother who couldn’t handle being tied down by kids, so my grandmother stepped in. We moved to San Fran to live with her, spent our teen years here.”

“Sounds like growing up was rough.”

“At times. But my nana is great.” His voice curled around the word nana , a lilting twang I’d yet to notice. It melted my remaining sanity. “I get it, though,” he said, “supporting those you love and growing up faster than you should.”

Owen’s hand stayed on my back, his thumb drawing mindless circles. Circles I felt everywhere . He wasn’t looking at me, but I could sense his attention, his understanding filling the cracks I rarely showed. Also, unf . Could he feel my breaths deepen? Did he sense how his touch sped my heart? If he didn’t make a move soon, I’d have to risk rejection and ask him out.

When he glanced my way, our gazes snagged. Intensity shone again, like I was a riddle he’d been spinning, the answer out of his grasp.

“What about you?” I asked, trying not to sound as unsettled as I felt. “Your shit sounded as frustrating as my shit . And…wow. That came out way grosser than intended.”

His answering grin didn’t reach his eyes. “Also not fine, but something I’m dealing with.”

He didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t ask more. This was casual, after all. Having had challenging childhoods gave us common ground, nothing more. And I wasn’t looking for serious, not after the hell my ex had put me through. All I wanted was a fun night. Or two. Or three. Which meant it was time to forget my concerns and get this party started. Find out if Owen was picking up what I was putting down.

I struck a pose—chest out, lashes lowered. I unleashed my most seductive smirk. His attention focused on target.

Step one, a success.

Step two was the challenge. “So, I’ve been thinking—”

“Owen!”

We both rubbernecked in the direction of the voice…

And my ability to speak vanished.

What the frick is Emmett doing here?

“Give me a sec.” Owen stood and jogged toward my gym Adonis, the two of them huddling on the curb.