Page 139 of One Wild Wish

I listened. I breathed. I fell harder for Owen Phillips.

I became aware of how much I’d missed him while he was gone. Still, he’d withheld vital information, reigniting my innate distrust. His admission had sent my mind careening to a disastrous time in my life, all of it jumbling together until a traitorous tear had pushed from my eye. I wasn’t a crier. Yet there I’d been, rubbing my ruddy face against Owen’s T-shirt.

Stupid Brandon and his stupid lies, messing me up like this.

Owen’s stories ended, silence blanketing us. A soft place that cushioned my sudden vulnerability. I curled my toes in my sneakers. “Is there anything else, Owen? About this divorce I need to know? I want to believe you, that your ex isn’t part of your future, but you should have told me when I asked about your trip. So is there anything else you’ve kept from me?”

His whole body froze. Not a smidgeon of air puffed against my hair. Then, “It’s hard to talk about it, and my lawyer has been on me to keep quiet, so I’m not used to opening up. But that’s the truth of it. My ex is bitter. She’s giving me hell, getting in the way of selling our assets.” Another pause stretched, this one speeding his heart rate. His pulse point raced against my cheek. “She’s also been—”

Owen’s cell phone leapt to life, and I shot forward. He reached for it, pushing to his feet as he spoke to Emmett. “First townhouse you see. Walk through the entrance, then down the hall to the right. You’ll see the closed door. A safety floodlight is on inside.”

I hadn’t realized how dark it had gotten. Not with the muted glow seeping into the small room. It was bright enough to see relief etched on Owen’s face, but I couldn’t tell if it was because Emmett was rescuing us from this room or him from that conversation.

My panic resurfaced. Without Owen behind me, his rumbling baritone in my ear, the reality of our situation slammed home. We were still stuck. It was still too warm. The ceiling was still too low. It wasn’t as intense as earlier, but I’d donate half my wardrobe if it meant escaping this coffin.

“You guys okay?” Emmett pounded on our door.

“Just glad you’re here. On the count of three, you push and I’ll pull.”

The boys attempted to use their body mass to force the stubborn piece of wood into submission. My wilting temperature had reached a full-on sweat. Effort five was the clincher. Owen practically flew on top of me as the door busted open and fresh air wafted in. Salvation!

Crawling out on all fours, I rolled onto my back in the hallway and inhaled the entire atmosphere. “I almost died.”

“You look okay to me, Stepper.” Emmett towered over me, grinning.

“Is that a step class insult?”

“It is.”

“I rocked that class.”

“Your face nearly hit the riser.”

“Details, details. And speaking of details, I need to know what Owen’s tattoo means. I promise not to tell him.”

He winked at me. “I’ll take it under advisement.” He smacked his brother’s ass. “You guys need an escort home? Any kittens rescued from high places?”

“Fuck off.” This from Owen hovering at my right.

“You’re welcome. See you at soccer this week.”

Owen crouched beside me and cupped my cheek, all his rugged handsomeness showering me with concern. “How you feeling?”

“Pathetically weak and embarrassed that something so lame reduced me to a panic attack.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, doll. Just wish it hadn’t happened.”

“You and me both. Actually…I’m still feeling drained. I might need a full fireman carry out to my car.”

Dropping his head forward, he chuckled. “Think I can manage that. Up with you, then.” True to my silly request, Owen slung me over his shoulder, turning sideways to avoid smacking my head into the wall.

I draped myself over him like a cheap dress and copped a feel of his jean-clad behind. “Next time we do this, you need to wear those fire pants and suspenders and no shirt, and oh…I’ll smear charcoal all over you.”

“Not on your life.”

“What if role playing turns me on?”

I could sense him smiling. “I’ll take it under advisement.”