Page 56 of One Wild Wish

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

RACHEL

Jimmy walked into the forest to pee before leaving, and I was still high as a kite—the sex, the picnic, the Chardonnay. The sex. The conversation, too. All that school and wine talk had set my mind spinning. I’d stopped considering winemaking as an option, but here it was again, a seed planted, courage growing. The pros and cons unfolded, because of Jimmy.

He’d also unlocked Reckless Rachel in doses. Manageable pieces I could incorporate into my life. I could still feel the roar of the motorcycle under me, the perfection of Jimmy between my thighs.

If I wanted to honor myself, understand what truly made me happy, in the bedroom and out, I’d have to start here. With my bad boy. Not get nervous like I had a moment ago and chicken out from confessing my feelings. I had to forget my concerns and trust that he was ready for a relationship. No more games. No unnecessary complications. When he came back, I’d look him in the eyes and tell him I was all in. I’d take him up on every sleepover offer and add a few suggestions of my own.

I pulled on my leggings for the ride and gathered my jean jacket. As I packed up the food, my phone rang. I’d ignored my mother’s calls the past two days. So jumbled with thoughts of Jimmy and my stalled career, I worried I’d let something slip when I wasn’t ready for the head-on collision. If it was her and I ignored her again, she’d slap my face on a milk carton.

I dropped to my knees and hit Talk. “Hello?”

Whoever was on the other end sucked in her breath. “Is Jimmy there?”

The female voice was sharp and strong, not my mother’s, and unease slicked my gut. Jimmy and I both had black iPhones—the same black cases, neither of us having chosen unique ring tones—which meant this wasn’t my cell. It wasn’t cool to answer Jimmy’s phone. It was intrusive and rude and something I’d never do. With the conversation I wanted to have, this wouldn’t be a great start. If I hung up, he’d never be the wiser, and the person would think they’d dialed the wrong number.

But as I pulled the phone from my ear, the woman said, “I’m his mother, Alena. I know Jimmy doesn’t want to speak with me, but he won’t return my calls. I’m not sure who this is, or if there’s anything you can do to help, but we’ve let this go on too long. We want our son back.”

My breathing spiked, and I searched the trees, worried Jimmy would return any moment and catch me talking to his freaking mother.

Why did I answer the phone?

Or maybe I was supposed to, another twist of fate, like my father’s final apology, my birthday wish, the blackout, and seeing that sommelier poster. Destiny unfolding.

By the sounds of things, Jimmy would have ignored the call, but I’d seen how lonely his life was, how hard it had been for him to sip his family’s wine. I didn’t know the gory details of their fight, but he hadn’t moved on, and they clearly wanted to make amends.

Steeling my voice, I said, “I’m Rachel”—his girlfriend? Fuck buddy? Play thing?—“his friend. He’s just stepped away, but I can talk to him for you, if you’d like.”

She exhaled heavily. “Well, Rachel, that would be appreciated. I’m not sure how well you know my boy, but all the Giannopoulos men are stubborn mules, my husband included. But this business has poisoned our family. I’m concerned about my husband’s health. The stress is wearing him down.”

My stomach cramped, the notion of Jimmy’s father being unwell hitting home. If something happened to the man before they reunited, it would haunt Jimmy. My final argument with my father tortured me to this day, as did the little things—a birthday of his I’d forgotten, the dinner I’d cancelled because I wasn’t in the mood. Stupid stuff, but tiny bumps became moguls, hills became mountains.

“I’ll make sure he gets in touch. Or”—I searched the trees, nerves buzzing—“if you wait, I can put him on the phone.”

Her answer was delayed, until, “I’ll wait, but he might not want to speak with me.”

I was intimately familiar with Jimmy’s stubbornness, and I could only imagine his father. Even his mother’s voice was a solid thing, her businesslike tone demanding my attention. But to not speak with her? After hearing his dad was unwell? It seemed preposterous.

The man in question walked from the trees, taking long strides, focus on his feet, like he was deep in thought. I hesitated. I’d have loved nothing more than to tell him I was all his, not mar our perfect day with stress, but this was important. This was family.

When he glanced my way, he frowned. “You okay?” His attention settled on the phone burning up my hand.

Sweat gathered along my spine. “I didn’t mean to answer it. Our phones were next to each other, and…I thought it was mine.”

He stopped dead, arms limp at his sides. “Who is it?”

I held the phone toward him. “Your mother.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. He shifted on his feet. “I have nothing to say to her.”

I stood and stepped closer, covering the mouthpiece with my thumb. Alena didn’t need to hear this. “I don’t know what happened, but she wants to talk and fix things.” I touched his forearm. “She’s reaching out. She’s worried about your father’s health.”

He didn’t flinch. His body nearly turned to stone. “Not interested. You can hang up.”

Excuse me?I reviewed my words, wondering if they hadn’t come out as planned. But my brain was functioning. He’d heard me just fine. “This is your family, Jimmy. How could you not want to speak with her and make sure your father’s okay?”

Instead of replying, he wrenched the phone from my hand, hit End, and tossed it on the ground.