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“You’re only seven years older than me, Wilder.Not twenty.”
Leaning down close to my ear, he whispered, “You look beautiful.”
I shivered from the brush of his warm breath against my skin.
“Thank you,” I replied.
“I missed you,” he said to me, still there at my ear, driving me crazy with want.
“I missed you.”
He pressed a kiss to my neck, then leaned back and nodded his head toward the house.“Your sister is standing at the window, watching us.We should go inside.”
With a groan, I released him and then reached to grab his hand and thread my fingers through his.If Sylvia wanted to watch, then I would make sure she knew Wilder Jones was mine.
Twenty
Wilder
Mom called out that the meal was ready, and we headed to the dining room.
I had heard very little of what Scott had been saying.My head was having an internal battle over what I should do about what Oakley had heard me say.Should I apologize or let it go?
In the dining room, the long table was filled with food.The turkey was in the middle with fancy greenery and cranberries around it.That was new.Our turkey had never looked like it belonged in a magazine ad before.I had to admit, I liked it.This was turning out to be a great Thanksgiving for Sarah.Even the turkey was special.
I walked over to the chair I always sat in, and Porter took the seat at the head of the table.
Mom walked in with a casserole dish.“Scoot over the green beans, Wilder.I need room for the chicken crack casserole that Oakley helped me make.”
I did as told, and unable to help myself, I glanced back at the door, looking for Oakley to enter.Instead, Mrs.Jojo walked out with the turkey carving knife and handed it to Porter.
“Give Sarah a minute.We don’t want to start without her,” Jojo said to my stepfather.
“I’ll go check on her,” my mom said, then swung her eyes in my direction with a disapproving glance that confused the hell out of me.
What was I missing?Where were Sarah and Oakley?
“Is Sarah okay?”I asked, starting to stand up.
My mom paused at the door.“She’s just gone to wash her face.Oakley having to leave was hard on her.”
Oakley had to leave?Fuck!
“Why did Oakley have to leave?”I asked, walking around the table, feeling like a damn caged animal, unsure of where to go or what to do next.
“She had to get to Thanksgiving with her family,” my mother said, but she looked at me with an accusatory glare.“At least, that was what she said.But seeing as I have met that family and Oakley looked ready to burst into tears, I don’t believe her.Which leads me to point my finger at you, since Oakley was happy as a peach before your arrival.”
Mom was quick.Way too intuitive.She always had been.It was her gift in life.
“Damn it, boy.Did she hear you rattling off about her in the living room?I sure hope not.That girl is too sweet, and it hurts my ticker to think she might have heard that nonsense,” Porter said.
Mom’s hand sprang out and grabbed my bicep.“What did you say, Wilder Noah Jones?!”she demanded angrily.
“Ouch.She is using the middle name.You need to run, man,” Scott piped up, sounding amused.
“Nothing important,” I said, trying to pull free but without success.“Mom, I need to go check on Sarah.Oakley has upset her by leaving.”
My mom’s nails bit into my skin.“Son, you listen to me right now, and you listen good.Oakley isn’t at fault here.She has been wounded on a deep level.That family of hers is some of the worst sort.They don’t even talk about her as if she is a part of them.I witnessed it with my own eyes at the funeral back in August.It broke my heart for her then, and I didn’t even know her.But today, she walked into this house with that gorgeous smile, and she helped me cook, wash dishes, taught Sarah how to set a table properly—”
