Damn her for always being a walking wet dream. Destroying men everywhere she went. Getting in their heads. Ruining their lives.

  She didn’t balk at the threat in my voice. Instead, her smile widened, as if this were a friendly exchange. She squatted down and hugged Belladonna, whispering what a sweet girl she was and how much she’d missed her. Then, she stood up and pushed past me, walking into my house with a duffel bag in her hand.

  “I’m here to stay with Sarah while you’re away. You can call Ms. Maynard and tell her you no longer need her assistance,” Oakley announced, as if she had the right to walk into my house, uninvited, and tell me who was going to watch my kid.

  “Like hell you are. I didn’t ask you because I don’t want you here,” I replied. The snarl in my tone wasn’t necessary, but I was fucking pissed.

  Oakley’s bag dropped with a thud to the floor, and then her hands went to her hips that flared beneath her tiny waist. Jesus Christ, was she not wearing a bra? I forced my eyes off her tits and met her heated gaze. She appeared as angry as I was. Who the hell cared? This was MY house. Sarah was MY kid.

  “My niece texted me, upset. She misses me. I am here,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  Of course she had. I should have assumed Sarah had told Oakley about this. Sarah told Oakley everything, it seemed. She rarely talked to me these days, and since she’d found out Ms. Maynard was coming to stay with her, she’d gone silent.

  “Listen, Wilder. I know you hate me. I have been aware of that for years. But this isn’t about how you feel about me. This is about Sarah. SHE loves me. SHE is the only family I have. You trying to keep me away from her is going to hurt her. She’s had enough pain. Don’t cause her any more. It’s not like I am unfit to keep her. I’m sorry about the mural. Her room was just”—she stopped, and her eyes scanned the area around us—“as sterile as the rest of this house. I wanted her to feel like it was hers. Give it her personality.”

  My hands fisted at my sides. This house had cost me more money than she would ever make in this lifetime. Sarah had everything she could want. I’d made sure of it.

  Belladonna started growling at me. Why did she always take Oakley’s side? I fed her. Paid for her expensive dog food and the even more expensive groomer she had to go to biweekly.

  “You think painting a mural in her room of your backyard was giving it her personality?” I snapped.

  It was a damn good mural. Belladonna even looked real in it. As if it were a photo taken.

  “Sarah chose what she wanted me to draw. I had been thinking unicorns and rainbows,” she replied, her face flushed now.

  I hadn’t known Sarah had asked for that specific scene. I had assumed it was Oakley’s way of making sure she stayed in Sarah’s thoughts. Despite whoever had made the decision on the painting, it was amazing. Just like all of Oakley’s paintings were. She was talented, and her work should be hanging in art galleries. Not on stationery in an Etsy store. Not my fucking business though.

  “You can hate me. Just don’t take it out on Sarah. I’ll always leave as soon as you arrive. Just like last time. You don’t have to see me. Interact with me. Heck, we don’t even need to speak to each other. But we have one thing in common. We both love Sarah and would do anything to make her happy. I would take a bullet for her, Wilder. You know that. I doubt Ms. Maynard could say the same.”

  Dammit. She was right. I hated it as much as I hated her, but she was right. Who better to stay with Sarah than someone who not only made her happy, but also loved her as fiercely as I did? Giving in to this when Oakley had barged into my home didn’t sit well with me. I was Sarah’s parent. I decided who stayed with her. No one told me how to take care of my kid. But then, allowing Oakley to stay would get Sarah talking to me again and end her sulking.

  “I don’t leave until five tonight,” I informed her.

  There was no fucking way I was letting her stay in this house with me all day. I had work to do, and I was already struggling with the sex dream I’d had of her last night. I wanted her out of my sight. At least for now.

  Oakley shrugged. “That’s fine. I need to go buy some baking supplies, get some decorations for this house because it’s just sad, and it’s time to start thinking about Christmas. Then, I can pick her up from school and surprise her.”

  I was sure Barry would love that. He’d asked me if he could have her number last week. The look I had given him shut him up. He should be thanking me from saving him from her. Not that he had a chance. Oakley was in a league well above the one Barry Powell dwelled in.

  “Thanksgiving isn’t until next week,” I pointed out.

  Oakley rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, this place needs some holiday cheer early. Besides, watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade is better with Christmas decorations up.”

  “We will be at my mom’s on Thanksgiving Day,” I pointed out, and she’d have her fucking tree up. I didn’t say that though.

  Oakley turned her face to look away from me. “Of course you will,” she replied, her voice tight.

  What was her issue with my mom? She’d never met her. Thank fuck because my mom would love her.

  “Can I leave my bag here, or do I need to take it to the car and bring it in when I come back with Sarah after school?” she asked, swinging her gaze back to mine.

  I looked down at the thing. “Take it to the guest bedroom across from Sarah’s. That’s where she will want you.”

  Oakley nodded. “Thanks. Will do. Now, go back to working, and I will be gone and out of your hair. It’ll be like I was never here.”

  If it were only that damn easy.

  Ten Years Ago

  It was raining when I pulled up to get Oakley. I’d gotten here early, not wanting her to stand in the rain, waiting on me. The past month of getting her after cheer practice had been the best one of my life.

  Wells wasn’t speaking to me. She’d broken up with him. He cried like a damn baby. It was dramatic as fuck for someone who had been cheating on her for months. He claimed the other girls meant nothing. Oakley just wouldn’t have sex with him, and he needed it. He had been trying to give her time and not pressure her. So, he had fucked other girls. In his head, that twisted shit made sense. To Oakley, it hadn’t. Thankfully.

  When he had found out I was getting her after practice and he’d seen us getting ice cream one afternoon, he hadn’t taken it well. He got out of his Mustang and started cursing me, and then he made the mistake of getting in my face. My reaction could have been better, but I hadn’t hurt him. There was that at least. I’d just warned him. Thoroughly. To back the fuck down. He did. Now, he acted as if we were both invisible, and I didn’t care. It seemed that she didn’t either.

  The door to the gym opened, and she came running out with a tight white tank top on and a pair of those ridiculously short shorts that could have been panties for all they covered. I was instantly hard. I couldn’t help it. I was attracted to her on several levels. The first being the obvious—Oakley Watson was a smokeshow. The second being that I liked her. I enjoyed being around her. She was witty and smart. She made me laugh and was always up for an adventure.

  Stopping in the rain, she spun in a circle, throwing her head back and letting it hit her face before continuing her race to my truck. Things like that. The uninhibited joy she seemed to always possess. As if nothing in the world could get her down. I wanted some of that. Being close to her made me feel as if I had it too.

  When she opened the passenger door and climbed in, my gaze dropped to her wet white tank top. Thank God she was wearing a bra. It was pink. I wondered if her panties matched.

  “If you were truly chivalrous, you would have met me at the door with an umbrella,” she announced with a bright smile, the scent of her sweet lotion filling up my truck.

  “But then you wouldn’t have been able to dance in the rain,” I pointed out.

  She brushed the wet hair back off her face. “True.”

  Her shirt wouldn’t have been wet and clinging to her cleavage either. I didn’t say that though. Instead, I reached into the backseat and grabbed the towel I had brought with me, just in case she got out early and was wet.

  “Here,” I said, handing it to her, then turning on the heat so she didn’t get chilly.

  “Ah, my hero,” she replied, taking it and drying off her face and hair before moving down to her chest.

  I tore my eyes off her. I didn’t need to watch that. She already starred in every damn fantasy I had in my morning shower.

  “Buckle up,” I told her, shifting the truck into drive.

  “Tell me one good thing that happened today.”

  This was what she asked me every day when she got in the truck, and every day, I wanted to say, You. I never did. That would be crossing a line I wasn’t going to touch.

  “Can’t think of anything,” I told her.

  “Hmm, that’s just sad. Let’s fix it. Drive to the Taco Barn. We can eat tacos until we’re sick.”

  Which meant she was going to eat three.

  Any reason to stay with her longer I would take. I might not allow myself to touch her, but I would soak in her presence all that I could. In the fall, she’d leave me. Go off to college. Guys would flock to her. She’d meet one, fall in love, get married. With those thoughts, my mood soured considerably.

  Thirteen

  Oakley

  The look on Sarah’s face when she saw my car melted my heart. No one on earth had ever been as happy to see me as she always was. She broke into a run until a teacher blew a whistle at her, causing her to slow her pace to a fast walk. When she reached me, she jerked open the door and climbed inside.

  “OH MY GOD! You talked Daddy into it! You’re here!”

  I didn’t tell her I had shown up and forced him to let me stay or about the argument we’d had. I wanted her to be close to her dad. Coming between them was never something I would do. Sarah needed Wilder. She was lucky to have him. He was a great dad. He loved her and spent time with her. Things I had never had as a kid.

  “Of course I’m here. Your dad was just worried about my work and not wanting to ask too much of me. I assured him that, for you, I was always available.”

  She reached over and hugged me. “I tried to tell him that, but he didn’t believe me.”

  I squeezed her. “Adults can be stubborn,” I replied.

  She laughed and then turned to see all the things I had stuffed in my backseat. I’d spent entirely too much money at Hobby Lobby and T.J. Maxx. The baking supplies in the trunk were just as bad.

  “You got Christmas decorations!” she squealed.

  “Yep. Everything but the tree. I’ll leave that up to you and your dad to go cut down after Thanksgiving, but we can make ornaments and string the popcorn for it.”

  This wouldn’t be her first Christmas without her mom. Sylvia had missed a couple in her life due to drugs and depression. However, it would be the first one with her mother gone. I wanted to make sure it was special. One she would have fond memories of and cherish years from now. Clearly, Wilder needed help with that.

  “This is so exciting! I can’t believe you’re here. I was sad all day, and then you drove up. It’s the best day ever.”

  I reached over and squeezed her hand. I felt the same. Anytime I was with her was the best day ever.

  “Other than me showing up, tell me something good that happened today,” I said.

  She was quiet for a minute. “Um … they had pizza in the cafeteria.”

  I glanced at her before pulling out onto the main street. “Pepperoni?”

  She nodded.

  “That counts!” I agreed.

  “What all are we gonna do while Dad is gone?” she asked, literally bouncing in her seat.

  I started to list off all the things I had bought, the goodies we were going to make, and the movies I had brought for us to watch. She giggled with pure delight. By the time we pulled into the driveway of their house, I had almost forgotten that I had to face Wilder again.

  Almost.

  Sarah slung open her door and scrambled out. “What do I need to carry?” she asked.

  I popped the trunk. “We need to get the groceries out first.”

  She ran around to the back and clapped her hands giddily before grabbing some bags and heading for the house. I got as many as I could, then followed her. She was opening the door, calling out to Wilder, before I got there.

  “I LOVE YOU, DADDY!”

  Yeah, Wilder. You’re welcome.

  Not that he’d be thanking me anytime soon—or ever. I headed for the kitchen with my bags, not waiting for Wilder to appear. He didn’t want to see me anyway.

  Belladonna came rushing out of the house and straight for me. I couldn’t set my bags down to greet her because she’d go after the food inside them so I kept walking.

  “That’s a much different tune than this morning.” Wilder’s voice carried down the hall.

  “You let Oaky come! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  I smirked simply because I knew he was having to fake it, like I had earlier. Act as if this were a friendly decision. Setting the bags down, I put the cold stuff in the fridge with Belladonna staying glued to my side before turning to head back to get some more.

  Sarah and Wilder blocked my path. I could see the gratitude in his expression, and I bit back a laugh. Something I knew he didn’t miss.

  Yep, I came and made your daughter smile again. No thanks to you.

  “Is there more?” he asked, his eyes widening.

  “SO MUCH MORE!” Sarah exclaimed so loudly that Belladonna barked.

  “I’ll get it. The two of you can put it away or whatever,” he said, turning around.

  I could go with him and help, but then that would mean I had to talk to him. I went back to the kitchen instead.

  “I’ll put the groceries up,” I told Sarah. “If you want to help your dad carry the decorations in though, that would be nice.”

  “Okay,” she chirped, then hurried to catch up with him.

  Belladonna looked from me to Sarah, and I waved my hand at her to follow Sarah.

  I finished putting all the food away just as they both appeared with the rest of it. Taking the bags Sarah handed to me, I set them on the counter and started unpacking them, not looking up at Wilder as he placed the last of the food bags beside me.

  “You went a bit overboard,” he said, surprising me. I figured we weren’t going to speak to each other.

  I lifted my gaze to his. “Cookies to make, pies to bake, and cupcakes to ice. It takes a lot. Besides, I have some new Thanksgiving treat ideas I saw on Instagram that I want to do with Sarah. Y’all can take them to your mom’s for Thanksgiving.”

  He didn’t say anything, but turned and left. Whatever. I didn’t need to have a conversation with him. Those days were long gone. I had found closure with it already.

  When it was all put away, Sarah returned with bags of decorations with Belladonna trotting beside her.

  “Set them in the foyer. We will let that be our general meeting place.”

  She spun back around, and I went to follow her. More than one male voice came from the front doors as we drew nearer. I slowed as I recognized the other one. It had been a few years since I’d seen him. We had never really gotten to know each other. Even if I had dated his younger brother.

  “Uncle Thatch!” Sarah called out and ran to Thatcher Shephard.

  He still reminded me of Satan. Beautiful yet with a terrifying edge hidden under the surface. I had told Sebastian that once, and he’d laughed so hard, then informed me I was so accurate that it was frightening.

  His dark eyes met mine. He didn’t appear surprised to see me. Like always, he seemed bored, aloof, as if the rest of the world meant little to him and was in his way.

  “Oakley.” He said my name with his thick Southern Georgia drawl.

  “Thatcher,” I replied. “Long time.”

  The corner of his lips quirked like he might smile but didn’t. “Not since you broke my little brother’s heart, I believe.”

  I winced. I didn’t want to be reminded of that. I’d had fun with Sebastian. He was a great distraction when I desperately needed one. For a while, I’d almost been happy. Up until he had gone and asked me to marry him with a ring the size of a golf ball.

  “No hard feelings. You did him a favor. He’s not meant for marriage. His life in Vegas is thriving. Thank you.” His words weren’t meant to be mocking. He was being sincere.

  I smiled. “Glad I could give him the push to find his place in life.”

  Thatcher chuckled then. Something that was rare. “You did that all right.”

  His gaze swung back to Wilder. There was something unspoken there, but Wilder understood the silent conversation, it seemed.

  When Wilder turned back to us, he looked at me. Not Sarah. “Why don’t you take Sarah to the kitchen and get started on one of the many baked items you plan on making? Thatcher will help me bring in the rest of the decorations.”

  There was a seriousness in his eyes that had me placing my hand on Sarah’s back and turning her around.

  “We have some cake pops that look like turkeys I want to try,” I told her. “Let’s leave the lifting to the men.”

  Fourteen

  Wilder

  As I closed the door to the house behind me and stepped out onto the front porch, Thatcher’s amused look annoyed me.

  “Oakley Watson here, playing house with your kid and dog,” he said with a smirk.

  “It’s not like that,” I replied through clenched teeth. “Now, what is the issue in Atlanta?”

  Thatcher glanced back at the house. “She’s a hot piece of ass. Don’t stand there and act like you haven’t noticed. I know she’s the kid’s aunt, but she’s also a looker. One who had you so wrapped up nine years ago that you stayed drunk for months after Sylvia got pregnant.”