Page 133 of One Wild Wish

“Maybe?”

“Doing that to you, seeing it? It might ruin me.”

Letting my heart go with him could obliterate me. My anxiety returned, a sudden rush of nerves churning the alcohol in my stomach. His breathing evened out, but mine sped up. I could hang up and never see him again. Quit volunteering—avoid him and Anton all the things that scared me. Return to a life that, although unfulfilling, didn’t turn me into a panicked mess. That wasn’t what I wanted, though. I wanted this. Him. Our lunchtime talks and easy ways. To learn everything I could about this man. Which meant I needed to be honest with him. I had to share my past so I didn’t freak out and screw this up.

A familiar sting of humiliation closed my throat, an allergic reaction to memories of Brandon and heartache and my stupidity. Swallowing hard, I pulled my quilt higher. “My last boyfriend cheated on me.”

“Oh, doll. No.”

“Yeah. It was two years ago. I thought we were in love. Until I surprised him one evening. He was in bed with his coffee barista.” I squeezed my eyes shut, a flash of his bare ass pumping between her legs almost making me heave. “We’d been talking about moving in together, and I wanted to surprise him and tell him yes. I’d already given up my apartment, and had to crash on Gwen’s floor for a month. The man was a lying prick, but I’ve never felt so stupid in my life.”

“I’d like to meet this prick in a dark alley.”

His protectiveness curled around me, soothed me, as Owen’s sweet understanding always did. “I’d like to watch that, but it’s in the past.” Still, I pictured Sally’s shock when faced with her husband’s betrayal the other day. Remembered my own tragic fall. Could I really risk experiencing that again?

My silence must have hinted at my worry, because he whispered, “I won’t hurt you, Ainsley.”

Again, exactly what I needed to hear. His promise had me happy and nervous and overwhelmed. Regardless, I wanted to try. Force myself to open up and let this sweet man more fully into my life. I twirled the corner of my quilt in anxious circles. “Are you my boyfriend?”

Not knowing if we were exclusive, or if he’d visit the D.C. habitat build and lay pipe with other hardhat-wearing do-gooders, was messing with me. My heart raced faster than Blue Bunny.

“Do you want me to be?” His Southern lilt pushed into his tired voice.

Sneaky bugger, answering a question with a question. “Yes.” I relaxed deeper into my mattress. “I do.” The simple truth of it.

“Good thing, because I got your name tattooed on my chest.”

Contentment filled me. “You wouldn’t be the first man.” My father had my portrait inked on his forearm, mine and my brother’s names branded over his heart.

“I don’t like hearing about other men, Ainsley.” His possessiveness was adorable.

A sleepy smile spilled across my face. “I’d like details about this ink, though. Do you have tattoos?”

“One.”

“Oooh. Do tell.”

A lion’s yawn propelled through the line. “I need to sleep. Not sure if I’ll make it back Monday. Things aren’t going as smoothly as I’d hoped.” He was silent awhile. Long enough that I worried he’d fallen asleep. Then, “I’ll be back by Tuesday for sure. It sucks being away.”

There was tension in his voice, and my untrusting radar pinged. Owen was too good to be true , my intuition taunted. I shook off my paranoia. He was just tired and missing me. “At least Blue Bunny is rechargeable,” I whispered.

We breathed. We sighed.

“Goodnight, boyfriend.”

“Sleep well, girlfriend.”

12

Seventeen letters for the part of a furnace where the burn occurs.

Or getting locked in a room with the claustrophobic woman who drives you wild.

C O M B U S T I O N C H A M B E R

Owen

I spent the cab ride to Tessa’s law firm coaching myself. Don’t lose my temper. Speak calmly. Slap on some Southern charm. The fact that she’d cancelled yesterday’s meeting and rescheduled for today was irritating at first, but I was over it. I replayed the good times we’d shared. I tried to picture us eating Chinese food on the floor of our house the night we’d moved in. I replayed snippets of Tessa’s “soulmate speech” from our wedding, rehearsed though it had been. I remembered the early days when we’d go for evening walks, talking with ease.