I smile. “What does the marriage look like?”
“Old fashioned roles. I know that’s not popular anymore but… I like a woman to take care of.”
“Ah, so you want a woman barefoot, pregnant, and cooking your homemade biscuits and apple pies? That’s what’s wrong with you.” I laugh.
He nods slowly as a sly grin develops. “Ah, some men have fantasies about women sprawled out on cars, but give me a woman who can bake an amazing apple pie.” He laughs.
“I might have the same fantasy about men.” I smile. “Except I’ll trade the apple pies for a good spanking and a little praise.”
Wilder looks toward me as though my head has split in two. “Look at you… coming out of your shell.”
I shrug. “Mama has needs.”
He drags in a long deep breath. “I reckon I can make those fantasies come true. What about you? You any good at baking?”
I lean into his shoulder, sucking in the scent of pine on his collar. My tone low and sultry, I say, “I’ve been told that my apple pie is the best around.”
He groans low as the procession begins to make its way down the aisle. The group has turned toward the ring bearer who’s dressed in khakis and suspenders, but Wilder and I are focused on each other. Eye to eye, breath to breath, minute to minute, unable to look away until I hear Alyssa scream. It’s her turn to walk down the aisle and she’s panicking.
Wilder stands and squeezes my hand. “Do you think she’ll mind if I help?”
“Go for it.” My heart warms as I hear his eagerness to befriend my girls, and though now is probably the wrong time to let him assert his fatherly instincts, Alyssa seems to take to him right away. She hooks her finger into is and they walk down the aisle together. Bryn, feeling left out, grabs his other hand.
The crowdoohs and aahs as they make their way.While I try not to let my mind go to the image where we’re already a family, I can’t resist.
Every part of me knows that place is dangerous. Not only for me, but for the girls. I need to slow this down. I barely know the guy. Feeling good with someone isn’t the criteria that leads to productive relationships. I need time and effort. I need to see him over and over, and watch as he continuously proves himself. I have more than myself to think about.
Why is dating so hard?Maybe I should come up with some sort of app that matches people without question to their soulmate. That way, all the small talk and drama is cut and what’s left is life. We’d save so much time!
When the girls have finished their walk, they tear back into the field and Wilder takes his place next to me.
“Thank you for that.” I’m desperate to reach out for him, but I hold back as a way to keep my emotions in check.
Wilder grins, grips my hand in his, and for one single second, everything is right in the world. The girls are peacefully chasing butterflies, the sun is shining, soft violins are playing, and a big, strong man is holding me close.
As the wedding march begins, the crowd stands and the woman beside me taps my shoulder. She’s an older lady with silver hair that twists in rings. She leans in and whispers low, “I’m so sorry to bother you, dear, but I saw that man with your kids, and I thought maybe you didn’t know who he is.”
My stomach drops as my mother makes her way down the aisle. She’s wearing a short cream dress with see-through notches everywhere that matters, but after what was just said, I can’t comprehend any of my senses. My vision is blurry as I turn toward the woman beside me.
“What do you mean?”
She nods toward Wilder. “That man is a recluse.”
“Okay…”My brows narrow in terrible shade toward the woman as I start to wonder how much shit she’s full of. “I know that.”
“And did you know he’s a criminal?”
My throat closes. “He’s not a criminal.”
This lady has obviously lost her mind. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I bet Wilder gets loads of things said about him. He’s big, inked, and has a permanent scowl on his face. To an old woman, I’m sure he looks scary as hell. To me, it’s part of his charm.
“Look him up when you get home. His birth name is Bodie Wilder Dawson. He’s lucky to have that rich cousin of his up at the ranch, or he’d have been kicked out of this town a long time ago.”
My stomach flips and drops all at once as the pastor begins the service. Wilder sits and takes my palm back in his warm, rough, and solid hand.
I glance up toward him as the woman leans near me again. “Look him up. That’s all I’m saying. You’ll find everything you need to know.”
I haven’t lived in Rugged Mountain for more than a year, but the reason I fell in love with the place was because of its small-town charm. It’s scenic, quiet, and everyone looks out for each other. Maybe there’s something to what this woman is saying.
