“Excellent. You want to watch something?” I handed her the remote. “Or do you and Oakley have some painting project or baking planned next?”

  She sighed and leaned back, pulling her feet under her. “Oaky is taking a shower and washing her hair. It’ll be a while.”

  I waved the remote at her.

  She grinned and took it from me.

  “Dad, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” I replied.

  It had been a while since we’d had a good talk. We used to do it a lot. I missed our conversations.

  “Did you love Oaky once?”

  I froze. That wasn’t what I had expected.

  “I know y’all dated. Oaky doesn’t talk about it, but … Mom did. She said things to Oaky, and so did Grandmother. They would say stuff that made Oaky sad, and sometimes … it made me mad at you. They said you used her. That she wasn’t good enough for you. They were mean to her.”

  Dammit. How long had she been holding on to this?

  I tried not to let her words get to me, but, fuck, I wanted to know what the hell Cleo and Sylvia had said to Oakley.

  “Yes, I did love Oakley once,” I admitted.

  Sarah looked solemn as she processed that. “Then, why did Mom and Grandmother say that Oaky was pathetic for loving you? And that you used her to get to Mom? That Mom was the one you loved?”

  The pain in my chest was only surpassed by the anger boiling inside me. How the hell was I going to sit here and look at my kid while pure rage for her dead mother was building in me? If Sarah had heard those things said to Oakley, what else had they said to her over the years? Had she been beaten down over what had happened with us for the past nine years?

  Sarah reached over and put her hand on mine. “Dad, it’s okay. I’m eight years old. I can handle the truth.”

  I wanted to laugh and cry. The truth wasn’t something I could tell her. The fact that I had never loved her mom. That I had gotten drunk and cheated on Oakley was also not something I ever wanted her to know.

  “Your mom and Oakley were never close. You brought them together. They both loved you.”

  “Oaky loves me. But …” She paused. “I loved Mom, and she … I don’t know if she loved me.”

  I rubbed my hand over my chest to ease the agony shredding me from her words.

  “Oh, sweetheart, your mom did love you. She loved you so much. She just had some problems that weren’t her fault. She needed medication, and when she didn’t take it, she acted different. That wasn’t her. It wasn’t who she wanted to be. But she loved you.”

  Sarah gave me a sad smile. “I guess. But she didn’t love me like Oaky does. Or like you do.”

  I reached over and pulled her into my arms. What I wished I could do to change her past. If I could have helped Sylvia be a better mom. Gotten through to her about how important it was to go to counseling and take her meds. That Sarah was only little once and needed her.

  “Dad,” Sarah said against my arm.

  I wasn’t able to let her go yet. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

  “Oaky loves you too.”

  I stilled, but said nothing. What the hell had Oakley said to Sarah? I should be angry. Pissed the fuck off. We weren’t going to upset Sarah anymore. No rocking her world and upsetting the balance of things.

  “Not one time when Mom accused Oaky of loving you did she deny it. She always just listened. Let her rant. Oaky doesn’t like to lie. That’s how I know. I’ve known it for a long time now. I hate it when you’re mean to her. She’s been sad for long enough.”

  I had to speak. I had to say something.

  “Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

  I swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, she’s pretty.”

  Sarah leaned back and smiled up at me. “And she can cook, and she’s funny, and she’s smart. She can paint real good too.”

  Was my kid trying to convince me to like Oakley or love her?

  “Uh, yeah, I’m aware,” I replied slowly, being very careful in the strange, uncharted waters I was suddenly in.

  Sarah held up her hands. “Well? Why can’t you love her? I love her. She’s really easy to love.”

  I had to stop this—and possibly go take a few shots of tequila.

  “Sarah, Oakley is your aunt. She’s here for you. Just like I am. We love you, and we want you to be safe and happy.”

  Sarah tilted her head to the side, and she narrowed her eyes. In that moment, she reminded me of my mother. “I love both of you, and I want you both to be happy. So, love her already. Stop scowling at her. Treat her nice, like you’ve been doing since y’all came back the other day.”

  Yep, I needed a fucking drink.

  Thirty-Six

  Oakley

  Closing Sarah’s door quietly, I made my way to the stairs leading to the third floor.

  Wilder had gotten a call right when it was time to put Sarah to bed. It had seemed serious, and I knew that meant there was word on the issue with Carda. I had fought the mix of emotions going through me as I tucked Sarah in and said her prayers with her. This could be it. I might be going home tomorrow. Wilder had said weeks, but it hadn’t been a full week yet, and I didn’t want this to end.

  I had been preparing for this. What to say. How to convince Wilder not to end this. I wasn’t ready yet with my speech, but I had a basic plan. I just needed more time to work out the kinks. To make it sound smoother. More appealing.

  When I reached the top step, I walked into his office. I could see through the doorway that he was in there at his desk. His back was to me, and he was standing there with a drink in his hand, looking down at something.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, stepping into the room.

  He looked over his shoulder at me. “Yeah. For now. Carda has agreed to back out of things with the Fotilas in exchange for Maxon and our protection. They own them a good bit of money but for their loyalty the Hughes are helping them with that issue. Maxon has been given orders by his father not to go anywhere near you. The Fotilas are a fight we will have to face, but you’re not involved in that.”

  So, he was sending me home. All the things I had planned on saying to change his mind about us seemed to vanish. I was panicking. I couldn’t leave him. Did it mean we were done? That we’d go back to the way we had been before?

  “I don’t want Sarah back at school yet. She’s going to stay home and return after the holidays. I need to be sure she’s safe.”

  I agreed. That was a good plan. Now, where did that leave me?

  He turned fully around then and leaned against his desk, crossing his ankles as he studied me, taking a drink from his whiskey glass.

  I should talk now. Plead my case. Beg him not to stop whatever it was we had been doing. Sure, I wanted it to mean something to him, but when we were together, it felt as if I did—at least for that moment. It was more than I’d had for the past nine years, and I wanted it more than I did my next breath.

  “I don’t want you to leave,” he said.

  As the words registered, I almost sank to my knees and wept with relief.

  “Okay,” I replied, my heart racing in my chest.

  “Stay through Christmas. Sarah would love it. I need your help with her classwork, and someone needs to be here with her when I have to step out to handle things.”

  The immediate deflation I felt wasn’t because I didn’t want to do those things. I adored being with Sarah. I’d just let myself think for a minute that it was because he wanted me here.

  I managed a forced smile and a nod. “Sure. Yes. Of course.” I had to get out of this room before I embarrassed myself. “I’ll go, uh, get ready for bed.” I stammered out my words, then spun around quickly to flee with as much grace as possible.

  “Oakley!” His stern tone stopped me.

  I took a deep breath, composed myself, then turned back to face him. “Yes?”

  He set his drink down beside him and straightened his stance. “What’s wrong? Do you want to leave?”

  I almost laughed. That had to be a joke. “No.” I shook my head. “I would love to spend the month of December with you and Sarah. I’m normally alone most of the holidays. Especially the years it’s your turn to have Sarah for Christmas.”

  His dark eyes studied me. “Then, why are you leaving to go get ready for bed? You’ve been showering with me the past two nights.”

  I wanted to scream, Because I don’t know what we are or what you want. I refrained and managed to stay calm. “Your reasons for me staying were all for Sarah. I assumed that meant you, or we, or whatever we were doing was done.”

  He raised one lone eyebrow. “Did you want me to say I’d like you to stay because I want to keep fucking you for hours every night or that I’m not ready to stop waking up with you, sweet and willing, in my arms? Because I can promise you, both of those are reasons.”

  I licked my lips as I stood there, slightly dazed by his words. He wasn’t done with me yet. This wasn’t ending. “So, you won’t get tired of me if I’m here for the month?” That was a logical fear.

  He shook his head slowly as he started walking toward me. “No, Oakley. I doubt any man could ever get tired of you. Although it would be best if I could.” He stopped and brushed my hair back from my face. His eyes roaming over me, as if attempting to absorb every detail. “I try not to want you. I try not to think about you. I try real hard not to be so fucking happy when you walk in a room. But it’s proving to be as impossible now as it was then.”

  “Really?” I breathed, scared to believe him.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m afraid of losing you,” I blurted out. “It’s just. I … I can’t seem to keep sex and my feelings separate. Not with you.”

  I watched as his nostrils flared and the veins in his neck stood out.

  “I don’t want to make a mistake with Sarah. You understand that we can’t hurt her?”

  “I would never hurt her,” I told him. “You know that.”

  “I said we, Oakley, not you.” He ran the tip of his finger down my cheek. “I want you. But I’m not sure if I trust myself to love you.”

  I wanted to tell him that if he was going to love me, then he wouldn’t be able to control it. He’d just love me. It would be a force that took over and roared to life. The fact that he thought he could keep from loving me meant he never really would.

  That was a sorrow I would carry my entire life. One that trumped all other losses I’d faced.

  But for now, I had him. He was mine.

  “I understand,” I replied, then reached up to cup his face as I brought his mouth down to mine.

  He didn’t want my love, and saying the words would drive him away. So, I told him the only way I could—with my body. Every ounce of love I had for him, I poured it out in that kiss. I would make my memories with him, and when we were done, I would suffer in silence. I had to—for Sarah.

  Thirty-Seven

  Wilder

  My mom had never called to check in on me so much in my life. I had almost ignored her call this morning, but I had given in, for fear she might actually need me.

  “I want my granddaughter for the day. We are decorating the tree. What time can you bring her? Shall I come and get her?”

  Sighing, I leaned back in my office chair and reached for my coffee. Mom and Porter had been home for a week, and I knew her house was safe. Sarah could use an outing, and I was sure Oakley wouldn’t mind some alone time.

  “I’ll bring her in an hour. She and Oakley are painting some clay ornaments they made yesterday.”

  “Have you told Oakley you love her yet?” Mom asked.

  “Mom,” I warned.

  I’d already told her to stop talking about us like that. Sarah could overhear her and get confused.

  “I take that as a no. Well, you’d better get around to it before some other handsome man swoops in and steals her right out from under your nose.”

  “I’ll see you in an hour,” I said, then ended the call, slamming my cell down with more force than necessary.

  The image of Oakley with any other man made me livid. The thought that she could fall in love with someone else and get married. Have a family. Fuck, that burned deep in my chest. I couldn’t picture her with anyone else. No other family.

  Just us. This one.

  DAMMIT! Why was it that all the reasons for not pursuing her made sense during the day, but at night, none of that shit mattered? I had her in my arms, and I felt like a damn king.

  Standing up, I started to leave the room when I caught a glimpse of Oakley and Sarah in the backyard. They were laying their ornaments out to dry in the sunshine. Sarah said something to Oakley, then turned and ran toward the tree swing, laughing as she went. Oakley chased after her.

  Sarah jumped onto the swing, and Oakley went behind her to push.

  Oakley would make a great mom. She deserved to have that. But the thought of letting someone else give her a child, I couldn’t fucking even consider it. Every damn muscle in my body tensed, and I felt ready to kill any fucker who tried to touch her. Take her from us. From me.

  I gripped the windowsill and watched them, and the one word that kept hammering in my head was, MINE. They were mine.

  Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. I couldn’t keep denying it. Telling myself I could control it. Acting like I had ever really stopped. I was in love with Oakley Leola Watson and her quirky personality, sharp wit, big heart, and ability to forgive. To accept. Her strength humbled me.

  Looking back at the females in my past, I knew, this time, it would be different. I wouldn’t let anything come between us. No lies. No heartache. Nothing. I wanted that life with her that I’d dreamed of once.

  This wasn’t going to hurt Sarah. I’d been using that as an excuse because I was afraid of losing Oakley again. I didn’t think I could survive it another time.

  At that moment, she looked up, and her eyes found me. A smile lit up her gorgeous face, and she lifted her hand to wave.

  Even after I’d told her I couldn’t love her, she had given me this. Stayed here. She hadn’t left. She let me bury myself inside of her over and over, giving me all of her. Taking me to a paradise I’d never realized existed. One where I wanted to keep her wrapped in my arms forever.

  It was time I let go of then and focus on now.

  We were different people. Life had changed us. Yet it hadn’t managed to unlink us. Even through hate, betrayal, loss, our souls had never truly let go.

  Thirty-Eight

  Oakley

  Sitting on the edge of Wilder’s bed, wrapped in a towel, I watched as he dried his body from the shower we had just shared. I shivered—not from the cold, but from the memory of him on his knees with his face buried between my legs while I leaned against the stone shower wall.

  A slow smile curled his lips as he ran the towel over his abs, then tossed it on the dresser before walking toward me. The predatory gleam in his eye thrilled me because I knew what was to come. Being tangled up in the sheets with him was the time each day when I believed he was mine. I found myself longing for hours to speed up just to get here—from the moment I walked out of this room early every morning until we came back in it together at night.

  “For a woman who was just screaming and coming on my face, you sure look needy,” he teased, reaching for my towel and tugging it out of my hands so that it fell open.

  “I look needy?” I asked, tilting my head back to look up at him.

  He nodded as he traced my jawline, then ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “My girl shouldn’t ever be needy. I must not be doing my job correctly.”

  He hadn’t meant to say that … had he? My girl? He hadn’t called me that in … nine years. It had been a slip of the tongue. He would get weird on me if I didn’t make a joke. Lighten the mood.

  “You’re doing your job just fine. But you might want to be careful with who you toss that my girl stuff to. Another woman might think you mean it.” I mentally scolded myself for letting this hurt me. Just saying the words. My chest was aching, and I didn’t want to ruin our night.

  “I’d never call any other woman my girl. That’s always been your title, Oakley,” he said. He wrapped his hand around my wrist and pulled me up.

  If he was trying to be funny, this wasn’t the way to do it. Deep breaths were becoming difficult. Could heartbreak happen over and over? Haunting you. Never truly letting go? Or was that my curse in life?

  “Oakley.” Wilder said my name, and I swung my eyes up from the random spot on his chest I had been focused on, trying not to fall apart.

  “Hmm?” I managed, but smiling wasn’t happening.

  His hands moved up to cup my face. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  YOU! YOU! I love you! Every day, my heart breaks a little more. But I have this. I have your body. In this room, I have you. For a few hours every day.

  I wouldn’t say that though. I would lose what I did have.

  Digging up all the strength I could muster, I smiled. “Nothing. I’m fine,” I assured him.

  He didn’t look convinced, but unless he wanted me to go emotional woman all over him, he needed to stop asking. Let this go.

  “When I called you my girl, it upset you.”

  I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. Please, for the love of God, stop saying that!

  “Wilder, that’s … let’s just say, that is off-limits. Okay?” The pleading in my voice was clear as I opened my eyes and stared up at him.

  His eyes slowly roamed over my face as he continued to hold it as if I was something special … something precious. That was going to shatter me if he didn’t stop.

  “But you are my girl, Oakley. You were mine, even when we didn’t speak. You’ve always been mine. And”—he locked his eyes on mine—“I’ve been yours since the first moment I laid eyes on you. That’s never changed. I wanted to believe it did. I wanted to think I was strong enough not to love you. I told myself I was different. That life had changed me. That the guy who had loved you was gone. But deep down, my soul was still holding on to yours. I couldn’t shake you. When I refused to let you in my head, my heart made me dream of you. Never, not one time, did I wish for a world without you in it. I never wished that I hadn’t met you, loved you. So, yes, you’re my girl. You own me.”