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“Excellent. Then you can tell me all about your lady friend.”
Wilder ended the call before he could swear again. When he looked up, Amelia stood only a few feet away from him with a small smile on her face. “Was that your mom?”
“Yup. She is a piece of work.”
“She just wants to be part of your life.”
“Well, she has a funny way of going about it.”
“I wish my mom was still around to give me shit about my life,” she said, her smile turning sad.
“Aw, love. I’m sorry.”
“No, you don’t have to be sorry because I miss my mom. I just think that maybe you could try being a bit more grateful that she is still around. Some of us don’t have that luxury, but we miss it a great deal.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”
“I know that I shouldn’t really say anything about it. I don’t know your mom. For all I know, she’s an abusive psycho who doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”
“She’s actually a lovely person. I do love her. It’s just…”
“She knows how to turn on the pressure?” Amelia guessed.
He sighed and rubbed a hand across his mouth. “Exactly.”
“From what I remember, my mother only turned on the pressure when she could see something I couldn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she was wiser and older than me. If she thought I was doing something that would harm me, she would be a little Mommy Dearest about it, but it was all done with love.”
He chuckled. “I can see that.”
His mother wanted him to be happy.
Happy.
For the last five years, after meeting Amelia, after learning that not only was she his mate but she was also married to someone else, Wilder had given up on being happy.
Now, it was within reach.
Not just happiness, but the woman in question.
It was all a little bit much, and he was terrified of losing it all. This time for good.
TWENTY
AMELIA
There weren’t many people Amelia felt comfortable being completely and brutally honest with. Wilder was one of the few.
Actually, nowadays—and for the first time in a long time—he was theonlyone.
“Is it a little risky to tell you how to behave when I am literally in the middle of nowhere with you? At your mercy?” she added with a flirty flip of her hair.
Wilder took a few steps toward her, his eyes darkening with desire. “At my mercy? I think you’ll find it’s the other way around. But please, don’t ever feel like you need to censure yourself around me. If you think I’m being a dick, then tell me.”
“Careful,” she giggled. “That’s a lot of power to give to someone. You really want me to drop everything and call you dick whenever you step over the line?”
