Page 4 of Wild for the Knight

“Good game, Tater Tot! I’m going to hold a competition to see which Wilder gets more hat tricks this season.” She sends me a smile over her shoulder as she walks to her kitchen island. Why we’re meeting here instead of Greyson’s, I don’t know. But I'm not going to complain, she always has better food, probably because her roommate does the shopping. Huh, the Terrifying Pixie is good for something. I wonder what would happen if I had groceries delivered to them one day? Would she explode over the loss of control? There’s a grand idea if I’ve ever heard one.

“Thanks, are you going somewhere?” Her arms are full. She has both a backpack and a bag full of stuff that looks like it belongs in a craft store. It’s a Tuesday night. Usually, she doesn’t work past five during the week, a benefit of working for not only a charity, but my dad’s charity. She quit her job as a sports journalist after everything went up in smoke, but it was a good move for her. She learned a lot from her job planning events for the Boswells, and a year later, when my dad asked her to head up the charity he’d been wanting to start for years, she didn’t hesitate to say yes.

She loves kids, loves getting to support them in a way she didn’t have growing up, my dad was over the freaking moon when she said yes. They work side-by-side daily, and I don’t think he’ll ever get tired of her. Just like she’s the big sister I never had, she’s the daughter he never had. And she has the brains and knowledge of how things work, plus empathy in spades, so that helps, too.

“Yeah, Wilson and I are doing vision boards with some of the kids at the group home tonight.” She wiggles a sparkly crayon in my direction. “Grey asked if you could have your movie night here with Harley, and of course, I don’t mind.” Her beaming smile and mention of movie night tell me she has absolutely no idea what my brother is up to.

“She doesn’t mind either.” Her hand motions to where Harley is sitting by my feet, tail wagging a hundred miles an hour. She waves and heads toward the door. “I gotta go, see you later!” The door shuts behind her, and I’m in her apartment alone. Harley doesn’t leave me hanging for long, though. Her paws hit my thigh, knocking me onto the couch, as she jumps and settles in my lap, ready for all the belly scratches.

A few minutes later, the door swings open, and I catch the tail end of a conversation.“I just don’t get why she can’t—”

Damn it. I should have known he’d pull something like this. This is the absolute last thing I need today. I don’t know why I thought she wouldn’t be here. Abby lives here. “Tatum...”

My eyes meet hers, and yep. She’s pissed.

“Terrifying Pixie.” Her eyes narrow at the nickname. Neither of us says anything, opting to look for answers in the big doof in the middle of the room. “Care to explain, dear brother?” I ask as I settle further into the couch.

Clearing his throat, Greyson sets the pizza box down on the counter and faces the two of us. “I need to get both of you in on this if I want to pull it off.” His smile grows to the point that it makes me cringe.

“What exactly is this, Wilder?” Abby asks with arms crossed over her chest and a hip pushed out to the side. The scowl on her face looks so out of place that it almost makes me laugh. There are very few things that get this kind of reaction out of her, but at the top of the list is being blindsided.

I’ve seen it happen a few times over the past few years. It never works out well for anyone. The woman is such a control freak that the slightest detour from her plans sends her into a tailspin, one that she immediately tries to over-correct by micromanaging everything. Like a prissy little princess, she stomps her foot, and everyone just does what she says.

“I want to have our bachelor and bachelorette parties together. But I want to have them in the mountains, and I want it to be a surprise.” Looky here, my big bro has a romantic side after all.

“And you need us for what?” she asks before I have a chance to.

“Hold on, let me get what I wrote down.” He pats all his pockets before realizing he doesn’t have whatever he’s looking for. “Dang it, I left the list in the car. Be right back!” He’s out the door before either of us can get a word in.

The second the door clicks shut behind him, she turns to me and glares. Her existence is annoying, but she’s the least of my problems. I lean back against the couch and shrug. Her eyes narrow further, and for a second, I think she might explode. Instead, she just huffs and walks into the kitchen without a word.

Her very evident fraying nerves make me want to pull the thread of her sanity to see how far I can take it. “Oh no, whatever would we do without a list?” I chide, and her head snaps in my direction.

“You’re in my house,” she growls before turning to the fridge and pulling out three water bottles. “Watch yourself before I throw your ass out.” She sets two bottles gently on the counter before chucking the other at my head. Luckily, I have cat-like reflexes, and I catch it before it hits its intended target—My ruggedly handsome face.

Damn, that tiny woman has an arm on her.

Chapter 2 - Abby

Freaking Wilder men. If there’s one thing they’re consistent at, it’s blindsiding me. Match point, Greyson, because there’s nothing on God’s green earth that would have gotten me to this “meeting” knowing Tatum would be here. A little heads-up would have been nice, though.

The door to my apartment slams shut so hard it shakes the walls. Greyson stumbles in, bending over at the waist, with one hand on his knee, the other above his head holding a piece of paper like it’s a winning lottery ticket. For a professional hockey player, his cardio needs some work.

I fold my arms over my chest, leaning against the island. “Did you forget how to work an elevator?”

He ignores my jab. Instead, he grins triumphantly as he holds the paper out for me. “Got you something,” he sings.

Letting out a long sigh, I snatch the paper from his hand, my agitation slightly overshadowed by my curiosity. Only slightly, though, and only until I start to read.

“Cowboy-themed party in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Spring break. Surprise. Monroe is booking the cabin. The Best Man and Maid of Honor are in charge of decorations, schedules, and games. Just kidding, Monroe wants to schedule everything. BM and MOH need to decorate and plan games.” I stop reading and raise my eyebrows at him before waving the flimsy piece of paper through the air. “This is the most awful list I’ve ever seen.”

The man in question is still trying to catch his breath. How does he play hockey? “It gets the point across.”

“You had to go to your car to get this? You couldn’t have just told us?” I point to the paper as I wonder if the dramatics are part of his personality.

“I wanted it to feel official.” He shrugs. “Look, I think it would be amazing if we could pull this off. She thinks you guys are going to Miami. Keep her thinking that. I’ll whisk her off for a ‘romantic’ spring break, you two will go up early to decorate and get everything ready, and then we’ll surprise her with a cowboy-themed bachelorette week.”

My stomach free-falls like I just went over the edge of a rollercoaster at Six Flags. “Hold your horses there, little buddy.” Everything in me is praying I heard that last part of his statement wrong. “Do I have to do this with him?” My thumb jerks in Tatum’s direction. Without looking at him, I already know his reaction, arms crossed with that stupid look on his face that makes you feel like the world's biggest idiot. “Can’t I do it alone? I work better by myself.” I whine as my shoulders drop away from my ears.