Tonight has been full of surprises. Confessions with Wilder, the views in San Francisco, and driving outside the five-mile radius where I exist within Grand Haven have brought me to the realization that I still live a small life.
This isn’t North Carolina, and I’m not confined to my father’s house. But have I not limited myself to my clients’ offices and the apartment I share with Lydia? Is this what she’s been trying to tell me all along? And is this why Wilder has been so resistant to me? I’m a twenty-one-year-old girl marveling at lush green lawns and cobblestone driveways because I only see suburbia on television. It’s an alternate reality to me, manufactured in Hollywood. But we’re only twenty minutes away from the apartment. These lawns and driveways have been here all along.
I travel the same roads every day, service the same kind of man, and outmaneuver the same type of people. Then I go home and put a dent in the couch. It’s no wonder why I was so easy to follow. My routine doesn’t change. Only this time, I’ve put myself in the closet.
The difference is I’m not alone with the dusty jackets and tea lights.
I have company.
Wilder slides his hand around the back of my neck, rubbing his thumb against the soft spot below my ear. I lean into his embrace and think about the box he’s trapped himself into. His confinement spreads much wider than mine, but he adheres to a corporate world and a criminal enterprise. Both vile, and neither of which he asked for. Not really.
“Do you want kids?” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, wishing I could scoop the words out of the air once spoken. For once in my life, I’m thankful it’s too dark for him to see the burning heat in my cheeks.
“Yes,” he says easily. His fingers still massage my neck as we continue to drive up, up, up.
“Lydia doesn’t,” I say casually. And then shyly add, “But I do.”
“Okay,” he answers precisely and right away. It doesn’t come off like,that’s nice you’ll have kids one day.But it sounds exactly like,okay, should we have three or ten?
What happens in the dark comes to light. He should be warned.
“What if I’m a bad mom? What if I’m like my parents?”
His lips curve into a smirk. “My brother and I were terrible kids. We drove my mother crazy. I have no doubt she wanted to lock us in a closet more than a few times. I think it’s normal to feel that way sometimes, but you’re not supposed to actually do it. That’s where your parents fucked up. You won’t lock our kids up, Camilla. If they turn out to be little bastards like Talent and me, we’ll just send them to boarding school.”
He winks.
I melt.
If there is one thing that doesn’t surprise me on this never-ending night, it’s that Wilder Ridge lives in a castle on top of a mountain.Don’t worry, Grand Haven, I think to myself.The princess has come to turn the beast into a man.
Maybe.
I kind of like him beastly.
And it’s not so much a mountain as it is a large hill that’s high enough to overlook the entire community and beyond. He doesn’t have a cobblestone driveway, but one made of normal concrete.
“The cobble was bumpy as fuck,” he mumbles, turning the car off in front of the garage.
His home has a timeless mid-century modern design. The two-story house is painted white with black trim, the windows rival those at Ridge & Sons, and the tall front door truly looks as if it was taken from a castle. The roof is covered with solar panels, and hedges and large trees frame the sides of the property for privacy, but they do nothing to hinder the view. I can see the entire state from here.
We exit the car, and my bare feet sting against the concrete driveway. Wilder approaches from the back, hugging me from behind. He rests his head against mine and points over my shoulder. I follow the tip of his finger to a skyrise that sits alongside the ocean. “That’s where Talent lives,” he says, moving farther down the coast. “That’s the office building.” To the right, away from the lights of the city and into a dense neighborhood, he says, “And that’s you.”
“You can see me from here?” I ask, surprised just making out the lights around our apartment complex.
“I always see you.” He presses his lips to the top of my shoulder before leading me toward the front of the house.
Automatic lights outlining the pathway sense our steps and illuminate the ground as we walk by, going back out after we pass. Wilder is an energy-conserving criminal, because the world we live in might be kind of messed up, but he’s doing his part to leave a better one behind.
For our kids. Who we’ll send to boarding school in case I have an itch to lock them up.
I’m uneasy as we approach the front door, not because we might have to fly our children off one day, but because I didn’t bring my candles. Visiting new places is never easy, but sleeping anywhere other than in my bed surrounded by my candles isn’t something I’ve done at all. There’s a duffel bag full of them at The Marquis because I thought we’d be staying, but how did I forget to grab even one before we left the apartment?
I know how.
Wilder’s big dick energy has me forgetting my basic survival instincts.
He didn’t leave any lights on before he left, like an actual psychopath. The house is dark, inside the windows is a void. Wilder pushes in a code to disengage the lock, and I press myself against his back, hoping the lights inside function like the pathway.
