Page 180 of One Wild Wish

Cameron walked down the bleachers to join Emmett. Rachel leaned toward us. “Do you guys know who won?”

“No clue,” I said, my attention fixed on my incredulous friend. “But Gwen is having a meltdown.”

Rachel assessed Gwen’s open mouth and unblinking eyes. “Do we need to call a doctor?”

I snapped my fingers in front of her face. “What’s with the catatonic state?”

“It’s him,” was all she managed.

Again, I stared at the boys, all of them grinning as if they were old buddies. “Him who?”

“August.”

Rachel and I drew a collective breath. The August. The neighbor Gwen had spent the majority of her childhood with, chasing each other across their joined yards. The one who’d taught her how to play guitar and had dragged her to his boisterous family dinners so she could escape her depressing home. The guy she’d been in love with.

“Was he that hot when you knew him?” Hot with a capital H.

“He’s filled out,” she murmured.

His gaze shifted, dragging toward us as though sensing our attention. The instant he saw Gwen, he froze. She squeaked. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Something dark passed over his eyes, but Gwen was already on her feet. “I need to go.”

My usually fearless friend bolted from her seat, disappearing around the bleachers.

Rachel scratched her knee. “That was odd.”

“Understatement. She’s hiding something.” I’d always sensed there was more to the August story than Gwen had let on. She’d given us the basics of their childhood and teen years, but when she’d skim over their relationship afterward, she’d always clam up and her eyes would get glassy. “If she doesn’t spill the details, we’ll pry them out of her.”

With alcohol.

We stood, dusted off our behinds, and headed toward our sweaty men. Jimmy and Owen were at their duffle bags, chugging Gatorade. When Owen saw me, he prowled my way.

I held up my hands. “No. You’re gross.”

Unconcerned I was wearing an adorable Miu Miu floral dress, he wrapped his big, glistening arms around me. “Deal with it.”

Unable to resist, I sunk into his embrace. Some things were more important than fashion. “Great game.”

“You even know who won?”

“I did. I got to watch your ass and thighs flex. It was quite a show.” I pressed my nose into his drenched shirt. His pungent musk of salt and man mingled with his usual apple pie. “I’d like to bottle you.”

He released me far enough to plant a soft kiss on my lips. “You’ll have to settle on living with me.”

Excited, I did a jig and twirled in his arms. When he asked last week, I almost rented a truck that night to move my stuff pronto. I couldn’t wait to blend our lives more permanently. “You’ll need to build an addition with a separate walk-in closet for me.”

“Might be tough, timewise. Ellen messaged to say she sold two of my pieces. I need to get to work.”

I smacked his rock-hard chest. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He couldn’t hide the pride in his bright eyes, and the timing was perfect. She Who Must Not Be Named had signed the final papers on their house sale and divorce recently. Owen could stop paying his lawyer and invest more fully in his growing business.

I beamed at him. “Your designs will take San Francisco by storm.”

“Here’s hoping. And if I find time, I was thinking of building us a dance room. Solid wood floors. Mirrors so I can watch you twirl.”

Or so I could watch other things. “Only if we can dance naked.”

His answering grunt had my body humming, as did the way he palmed my ass. He moved to gather his bag, and I searched the soccer field, scanning the new group of men sweating it out on the field. When I spotted Gwen’s old crush, I tugged Owen’s arm. “How do you know August?”

He followed my line of sight and smiled. “He played soccer with us when we were in high school. On the California Regional League. Great guy. Haven’t seen him since. Why?”

I could share Gwen’s state of shock and their mysterious history, or I could use this tidbit in my favor. “I have gossip. Tell me what your tattoo means, and I’ll spill the details.”

“Nope.”

Damn him. “You’re no fun.”

“So you’ve said.” He linked our hands, and we walked to his truck, the sun high, my spirits higher. He opened my door for me and helped me into my side, the eternal gentleman. Once I’d clicked my seat belt in place, he brushed my hair from my face. “You get more beautiful every day.”

Heart, meet the moon.

Any other man, and I’d laugh at the cheesy sentiment, but this was Owen. A romantic who believed in finding his other half, and reminded me of his love daily. He kissed me hard and true. I nipped his bottom lip. “Us,” I said.

His brows pulled together. “What?”

“Nothing.” I shoved him out the door and pulled my phone from my bag. The writers of this crossword clue may have had Utopia in mind for their answer, but I knew better. The true answer was two letters. One word. My place of ideal perfection was wherever Owen and I were, together. Utopia was Us.