Almost five thousand square feet of living space. Five bedrooms, four bathrooms, a game room, living room, library, state-of-the-art kitchen, formal dining room, great room, a heated pool with a hot tub that sat adjacent to it and flowed over into the shallow end. All of this, and still, we seemed lost. Sarah was detached and sad. Me? I was fucking clueless on how to do this right. Buying this massive house clearly hadn’t been what she needed.

  The padding of her bare feet running down the hallway, followed by Belladonna’s paws against the hardwood, grew louder until Sarah burst through the doorway. Her face was flushed, and the brilliant grin on it made my chest tighten. She was happy. No, she was fucking thrilled.

  I’d spent a fortune on this damn house and not gotten one tiny smile from her when she saw the pool or the huge bedroom with attached bathroom that was all hers. Yet the one female on earth who I didn’t like could bring her joy. How fucking perfect. At least I would be out of town. I had promised Sarah that she’d get to see Oakley, and so far, I had found every reason for that not to happen. It wasn’t fair to her, and I knew it. The issues I had with Oakley weren’t Sarah’s fault. I had to deal with them and get over it.

  As much as I hated to admit it, Sarah needed her aunt. I couldn’t be all she had. I was just Dad. She was a girl who had lost her mom. It was time I let Oakley help. Even if I didn’t approve of her, she loved Sarah, and Sarah loved her. I would just make sure not to be here when she was.

  Five

  Oakley

  Eleven Years Ago

  Wells left me on the sofa in the great room at his house while he went with Storm to find his father’s liquor cabinet to get some bourbon. There was a keg of beer on the back patio, but they had decided they wanted something better in their red plastic cups.

  I glanced over at Constance Roe, doing her best to get Sebastian’s attention. He appeared bored as he sat on a stool, watching two girls make out while drinking from his cup. His gazed shifted to me, and he smirked. I just shook my head and laughed at him. The guy was so not boyfriend material.

  I continued to scan the room. The same crowd, same girls trying to stand out—it was starting to get boring. It had been fun at first, but the whole scene was getting old.

  Everyone seemed to be so focused on standing out that they didn’t notice others. Perhaps that was why I noticed them first. Wilder, Thatcher, and King stepped into the area, seeming to take up all of the room with their presence. The voices quieted as other people began to notice them. It seemed the three of them had the power to snap people out of their self-absorbed world. I wondered if it was because of Thatcher’s reputation, King’s arrogant gleam in his eye, or the hotness that was Wilder.

  The first two didn’t interest me. It was Wilder I watched as his eyes roamed over the room, looking neither interested nor amused at the different things going on around him. When his gaze landed on me, it stopped. He tilted his head slightly to the side, then said something to one or both of the guys beside him—since his eyes never left mine, I couldn’t be sure. He began to move in my direction then. The closer he got, the more nervous I seemed to grow. I tried not to admire the way his body moved or the effortless way he made a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket look incredible. This was Wells’s cousin. Lusting over Wilder was wrong. I needed to be slapped.

  “Oakley, right?” His smooth, deep voice barely held a Southern accent. It was there, but faint. That was strange for anyone in Georgia, but especially this corner of the state.

  “Yes,” I replied with a smile.

  His eyes glanced over the rest of the room before coming back to me. “Where is Wells?” he asked.

  “Gone to get some of his dad’s bourbon with Storm,” I told him, figuring it wasn’t a secret.

  Wilder frowned. “And he left you alone.” He flickered his gaze over toward Sebastian, then back at me. “With all this?”

  I laughed quietly and nodded. This was a typical weekend with Wells. If the party wasn’t here, it was at someone else’s house. I’d grown accustomed to him getting sidetracked with Storm or Sebastian. Part of the boredom I was feeling. However, Wilder was making things much more exciting.

  “Why wouldn’t he?” I asked him as he continued to stare down at me.

  Wilder shrugged. “It’s inconsiderate.”

  That was … nice. Okay, it was sexy, the way he’d said it. But he was older. Older guys thought about things like that. They weren’t trying to sneak off and get their dad’s bourbon. I was sixteen, and Wilder was, like, twenty-five or something. I wasn’t exactly sure.

  “It’s a party,” I replied.

  Wilder was still frowning when he moved and took the seat beside me that Wells had occupied earlier. He smelled of leather and mint. I wanted to lean in and bury my nose in his side to inhale. Why was that scent so enticing?

  “What would you rather be doing tonight?” he asked me, turning his head to meet my gaze.

  I blinked and tried not to be overwhelmed by his nearness, but it was difficult. He was so much larger than Wells. My body was not listening to my head. It was tingling and aching to move closer to his side.

  “Painting,” I blurted out.

  His eyebrows rose. “You like to paint?”

  I nodded, then dropped my eyes to my lap. “Yes. When I can. It’s my escape.”

  The fact that Wells didn’t even know that I liked to paint wasn’t lost on me. But the topic never came up. He had never asked.

  “What do you paint?” Wilder asked. He sounded as if he was interested. Like he wanted to know.

  When I lifted my eyes back to meet his, there was a strange feeling in my chest I didn’t recognize. I tried not to dwell on it. “Mostly nature. Landscapes.”

  A small tilt of his lips whispered at a smile. “I wish I could see some of your work,” he told me.

  My heart did a funny little flutter, and I realized I was smiling up at him. No one—not my dad, definitely not my stepsister or stepmother—had ever cared to see my paintings. They were something I did and kept tucked away in a closet in my room. My stepmother called it a waste of time and pointed out that I could be using my time to help others—the way her daughter, Sylvia, did. Yet this man I barely knew was interested. I could see it there in his eyes—he truly was curious.

  I felt my face warm. “They’re not very good. I don’t take classes or anything. It’s just something I enjoy,” I explained, feeling silly now.

  His brows drew together. “Don’t say that. You enjoy it, so the talent is there. First step to your art is believing in yourself. In your work.”

  This was the moment that guilt should have sunk in. When I should have stood up and excused myself to go find Wells. However, neither of those things happened. I continued to sit there and talk about my paintings to the first person who had ever seemed to care.

  Present Day

  Closing my car door, I gripped the handles on my duffel bag tightly and stared up at the house in front of me. This place was big. The entire neighborhood was full of fancy, large homes with expensive cars in the driveways. The fact that I had needed a code to get through the iron gates to even get into this community was insane. What was it that Wilder did exactly? I thought he owned a media marketing company. Did it make this kind of money?

  He had lived in a two-bedroom apartment before Sylvia died. Sarah had said he’d bought a house and they’d moved in, but she had left out that it was a big, massive place that belonged in a magazine. The one thing that stood out at this house was the lack of pumpkins and other elaborate fall decor. There weren’t even wreaths on the front doors. I glanced over at my ten-year-old Honda Civic and decided that I had added one more thing to stand out. My dependable, old Betsy. I patted the dark blue hood just in case she felt inferior before making my way toward the front steps.

  I wasn’t to the top step when one of the double doors swung open, and Sarah came running out, followed by Belladonna hot on her heels, barking her greeting.

  “OAKY!” Sarah squealed, throwing her arms around my neck.

  I dropped my duffel bag beside me so I could wrap her up in a hug. I had missed her so much that it hurt. Closing my eyes, I enjoyed holding her. Belladonna fought for my attention, too, pushing her head between us, causing Sarah to laugh.

  “We missed you!” she exclaimed.

  “I missed you too,” I assured her, then reached down to hug the very enthusiastic Belladonna.

  “I got the bedroom across from mine all ready for you. I even picked flowers and put them beside your bed,” she informed me proudly.

  “That sounds perfect. Thank you,” I replied.

  It was amazing how that sweet smile could ease all the other bad in my life.

  Sarah reached for my hand. “Come on! I will show you where you are staying, and then we can go make cupcakes. Dad bought everything on the list I gave him.”

  Wilder hadn’t been at the door to greet me, but then I hadn’t expected that. Truth was, I didn’t really want to see him.

  Sarah had mentioned some older woman who watched her when he had to work. He hadn’t called me once to ask if I could come. If it wasn’t for the fact that Sarah had her own phone, I doubted he’d have let her contact me. Bastard.

  But he was Sarah’s dad. So, I had to be nice to him. Make sure he let me come back or let her come see me.

  Cleo had been true to her word, and not only had my dad informed me it was best if I didn’t come over for a while, but he was also now dodging my phone calls. I hadn’t seen or spoken to him in a month.

  I missed Granny even more fiercely now than I had the months after her death. Back then, I had known she wanted to die. She’d not been the same after Granddad’s death. She had missed him so much, and when she passed away only three months after losing him, I had been happy for her. She was back with him again, and I knew that was what she’d wanted.

  With my dad ignoring me and Sarah having moved away, I had been so lonely that dating again sounded like a good idea. My sitting at home, feeling sorry for myself, could only go on for so long. Dating Hamilton had helped some, but it was nothing compared to being here with Sarah.

  I followed Sarah into the house and paused for a moment to take in the vaulted ceilings, white walls, and cleanliness. There were no personal effects in the entrance. It was almost as if the house were empty. Why hadn’t Wilder put up some photos or a painting? Maybe a mirror and added some plants? It would make the place feel warmer, more welcoming.

  Sarah continued tugging my arm and leading me to the wide, winding staircase. I followed her up the stairs with Belladonna right by my side, as if making sure I didn’t leave. When we reached the upstairs, I looked down over the railing on the other side into an open room with a big fireplace, two leather sofas, and a recliner. The coffee table that sat in the center was the only other furnishing in the large room. Like the entrance, there was nothing on the walls. The mantel even sat empty.

  “This way!” Sarah urged.

  I was unhappy with the way things seemed so generic and untouched, and soon, I became downright annoyed. The hallways were all white walls with nothing on them. Where were the baby pictures of Sarah? The photos of her and Belladonna? Her school pictures? Something to say that they lived here.

  Sarah stopped at a door and pushed it open, then grabbed my hand again and tugged me inside. “This room is yours!” she said proudly.

  White walls, beige comforter on the king-size bed. One dresser and a mirror. The only color in the room was the flowers in the vase beside the bed that Sarah had picked for me. I dropped my duffel and forced a smile.

  “This is lovely. But I want to see your room,” I told her, hoping there was color in there. That he didn’t have her living in a room with bare white walls.

  Belladonna led the way, as if she knew exactly what I had just said. I didn’t doubt she did. I’d lived with her for two years. I knew how smart she was. Sarah giggled at her friend, and we followed the furry fluff into the room across the hallway.

  Although the walls were white, drawings had been taped to them, adding color. The cotton-candy-pink comforter wasn’t new. It didn’t look old, but Sarah’s favorite color hadn’t been pink since she had been five. Right now, she loved all things teal blue, and pink made her crinkle her cute little nose in distaste.

  I had five days to fix this, and I intended to. Starting with her room. She needed to feel like this was a home—her home.

  “It’s so big!” I said, not able to think of much to say about it. “And your drawings are beautiful.”

  She shrugged. “Thanks. It’s okay.” Her eyes went to the pink bedding, and her nose did the crinkle.

  Yep, we were fixing that ASAP.

  “Where is your dad?” I asked, trying not to sound angry.

  Sarah swung her gaze from the offending comforter to the door. “He was in his room, packing. It’s on the third floor with his office and library.”

  I didn’t want to go up to his private area. I’d wait until he came down to leave.

  “Well, lead the way to the kitchen. I could eat a cupcake or two. Let’s go make some.”

  Sarah’s eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands together. “Okay!”

  I hurried behind her as she ran from the room with Belladonna on her heels.

  Six

  Wilder

  The smell of cupcakes baking filled the downstairs as I reached the bottom step. Instead of going into the kitchen, I headed for the front door to leave my suitcase before facing Oakley and telling Sarah bye. She had been so happy since I’d agreed to have Oakley come stay with her that it was hard to be mad about it.

  However, knowing Oakley was now in my home, in my space, cooking in my kitchen, the annoyance was back. For Sarah’s sake, I wouldn’t let that show.

  It wasn’t like I had a reason to be pissed. Sarah wanted to see Oakley, and the fact that she was here had given me my daughter back in many ways. She had talked more this week. She laughed and smiled. There was less watching television and more drawing, planning what they were going to do while Oakley was here, and just being a kid. She had even made a friend at school.

  I knew I owed all that to Oakley coming here, but, damn, I hated that she made my daughter happy. If it were anyone else, I’d be offering to pay them to move into one of the guest bedrooms and live here. Seeing as it was Oakley, that was a hard hell no.

  My eyes always seemed to have a mind of their own when it came to that woman. The moment I stepped into the kitchen, they locked on her. There was a streak of flour on her face and some chocolate icing on her chin. Her smile was so damn big as she helped Sarah measure out sugar for another bowl of what I assumed was more icing that I felt that kick in my chest. The one only Oakley could inspire and had been causing since she had been sixteen years old.

  Belladonna was lying on the tiled floor, watching them with complete interest, and only glanced at me briefly. She still wasn’t sure she cared for me, and that was mostly my fault. I hadn’t taken time to form a relationship with the dog.

  Oakley stuck her finger in the mixing bowl, then smeared orange-colored icing across Sarah’s cheek. The giggles that erupted from my daughter eased the tension that having Oakley here triggered.

  The blue eyes that had drawn me in the first time I laid eyes on her lifted to meet mine, and the smile on her face wavered. She wasn’t thrilled to see me.

  Dammit, why did she have to be so fucking beautiful? Wasn’t time supposed to age women? It was damn time Oakley started aging. Losing some of whatever the hell it was that made my knees weak.

  “Wilder,” she said, forcing a smile that didn’t meet her eyes.

  I walked farther into the kitchen. “Looks like the two of you are having fun,” I said, focusing on my daughter.

  Sarah was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Hey, Dad! We are making jack-o’-lantern cupcakes, and then we are going to make popcorn balls and homemade pizza before we watch Hocus Pocus!”

  I kept forgetting it was October. Even with all the ridiculous fall decorations the rest of the neighborhood had up, reminding me daily. I hadn’t done anything fall-like with Sarah. Should I have asked her what she wanted to do? Fuck. I had to get better at this.

  “Sounds like a good time,” I replied.

  “Are you about to leave?” Sarah asked.

  “Yeah, I need to head out,” I told her.

  I was flying Garrett Hughes and his wife in his helicopter to one of his resorts for the evening. Then, I had to head to Las Vegas to look over security at the casino owned by the family. They’d had a breach, and I was supposed to take over their cyber data security, like I had with the Hughes hotel in Ocala. None of which I could explain to Sarah. She was too young to know what I did. If I could always keep it from her, I would. Working for the Southern Mafia wasn’t something you wanted to share with your daughter.

  Sarah wiped her hands on a towel, then ran over to hug me. She’d been doing that more and more this week. I bent down and held her close to me.

  “Have fun with your aunt Oakley,” I told her, already knowing that was a done deal.

  Clearly, Oakley knew how to entertain a little girl better than I did.

  “I will!” she assured me. “We will save you some of the treats we make.”

  “Good. I look forward to eating them all when I get home.”

  She laughed, then dropped her arms and stepped back. “Have a good trip,” she said before turning to go back to the mixing bowl.

  Reluctantly, I looked back at Oakley. She met my gaze.

  “If you need anything, call. The emergency numbers are on the side of the fridge. And Sarah can show you how to set the alarm. It’s easy.”