They.

  Fuck.

  There was no way she could continue working with Rhonda. Some of Hunter’s anger started to awaken in her.

  “Fine. Kill him. I’m going to take care of the faithless, lying, bleach blonde bitch.” The viciousness of her words, the heat behind them, sounded completely foreign even to her.

  And apparently to Hunter too. She didn’t lose her temper very often. His eyes widened, then approval set in. “I’ll be your alibi if you’ll be mine.”

  She grinned. “Deal.”

  For a second, they were able to smile, but the reprieve was brief when Hunter’s eyes returned to her letter. It had been Paul’s idea to set Rhonda and Hunter up on a blind date three years earlier. Ailis had predicted it would be a mistake, thinking them too much alike to get along. She’d been proven wrong.

  Until now.

  “I don’t get it. She said yes. She was excited about the engagement. Why? Why would they do this?”

  Ailis shrugged. Paul had never proposed to her, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t discussed the future. They’d made plans, dreamed of a big wedding and buying a house, having kids, saving for retirement. She hadn’t built up those expectations out of thin air. They’d been real…at least to her.

  “I don’t know why.” She didn’t. She’d been sitting here for three hours, trying to wade through it all, searching for something that made sense. Nothing did.

  “What am I supposed to do now?” His voice was laced with the pain she was searching for, trying to feel. Now that she thought about it, maybe she was in shock.

  He slouched back in the chair and sighed heavily. “What now?” he repeated, more to himself than her.

  It was a fair question. One she was sorry he didn’t have an answer for. That meant she couldn’t follow his lead. “I guess we…just…move on.”

  He looked at her as if she’d sprouted a second head. “Just like that? You’re not going to fight for him?”

  Fighting for him had never occurred to her. Not once. “No.”

  “So you’re giving up?” He rolled his eyes and the same mockery he usually reserved for her returned. “Typical mouse move. Not sure why I’m surprised.”

  She narrowed her eyes, her anger finally blooming full force, finding a much more convenient recipient. “I’m not giving up. I’m just not settling.”

  “Settling?”

  “Why would I beg someone to come back who doesn’t want me? Why would I want someone so cruel, so cowardly, that he had to break up with me in a letter? He’s an immature child, a selfish asshole, somebody who doesn’t deem me worthy of any respect, any kindness or compassion. He couldn’t stick around and face me. After six years, Hunter, I think I deserved a lot better than this.”

  Hunter stared at her, speechless for several moments. She was fairly certain that was the most she’d ever said to him, and it was obvious he hadn’t realized she had a voice. Then he sat up in the chair. His posture didn’t look nearly as defeated as it had a few minutes earlier.

  “You’re right. Fuck ’em.”

  That wasn’t what she’d said. Exactly. Though it did sum it up pretty nicely.

  “I’m not a mouse, Hunter. I’m just…” Her words faded. She didn’t have a clue what she was anymore. For so many years, she’d been defined by her relationship with Paul. Paul’s study partner, his girlfriend, his better half. His silent fucking rock.

  Hunter was still studying her, and it felt as if it was the first time he’d ever really seen her. They’d been in each other’s lives for years and their first impressions had stuck. She had put him in the man-child box. He’d put her in the mouse box. Neither of them had ever bothered to look beyond that.

  “You’re not crying,” he said at last. “Most chicks would be bawling their eyes out right now. Instead, you’re sitting here being all logical and shit.”

  While he didn’t say it, she went ahead and finished his opinion in her head. The part about her not being normal. Ailis was used to feeling like the odd guy out. She definitely lacked the passion, the stubbornness, the heart-on-her-sleeve emotions that ran through the rest of her family so strongly. Hunter would have made a better Collins, now that she considered it.

  She had always attributed her calm, quiet nature to the fact she hadn’t grown up around her rambunctious cousins, or aunts and uncles, or Pop Pop. Her time with them as a child had been limited to occasional visits. And even though she’d moved back to Baltimore after college, she still didn’t see them as much as she could have. She’d remained apart, always too busy with work or Paul.

  She’d never felt that distance until now.

  Now, she missed them, wanted to be surrounded by their craziness, their loud voices all talking at once and their unconditional love.

  She wanted to be a part of that…to go home. Home to a place she’d never lived.

  “I’m moving out of this apartment.”

  Hunter frowned, confused by her random pronouncement. “Okay. Where are you going to go?”

  She smiled and used the phrase coined by her aunt Riley. “The Collins Dorm.”

  “I have no idea what that is.”

  “The apartment over my family’s Irish pub. A lot of my cousins live there now.”

  “Cool. I’m keeping my place. Rhonda obviously isn’t planning to come back. She packed up all her shit.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “What about your job? You and Rhonda work together.”

  She’d avoided thinking about that, but there was no denying she couldn’t return to the marketing firm. In truth, the job had never felt like the right fit for her anyway. Just another place where she was a square peg trying to fit into a round hole. “I’m going to quit.”

  “Damn. That’s pretty rash, don’t you think?”

  She shook her head. “No. I can’t work in the same building as…her.”

  “I get that.”

  “I’m pretty sure I can get a job waiting tables at the pub until I find something else.”

  “I guess I’m lucky. There’s no danger of me running into either of them at the hotel.” Hunter helped run a local inn with his aunt and uncle. His parents had died in a car crash when he was a teenager, and his great-aunt and uncle, older and childless, had taken him in, loved him as their own.

  “Baltimore is a big enough city that we can probably avoid them forever.” She knew that was a pipe dream, but right now, the idea of seeing Paul and Rhonda together was too painful to think about.

  “I might start my band back up. Rhonda made me drop it. Said she hated how much it took me away from her. I was stupid to give up on it. I really miss playing my guitar in front of a crowd.”

  “I forgot about your band.” Paul had dragged Ailis to more than a handful of Hunter’s performances when they’d first started dating. He wasn’t bad. Actually, he was very good. The rest of the musicians performing with him, however, had been mediocre at best.

  He gave her a sad grin. “Yeah. Sounds stupid, but I always used to dream I’d make it big in music. Write some Grammy-winning song and travel the world performing.” He winked as he added, “Sleep with a different groupie every night.”

  “I lived that life. It’s not as awesome as it sounds.”

  “Really? Never pegged you as the groupie type.”

  She rolled her eyes, hung up on the idea that Hunter actually wrote music. That tidbit surprised her. “I grew up on the road. You know, it’s not all glitz and glamour.”

  “Some of it must be cool.”

  She nodded, recalling that there was actually a lot about it that was terrific. She’d pushed memories of those parts away, mainly because of Paul’s disdain for the musician’s lifestyle. He’d turned his nose up the few times they’d been on her parents’ bus, claiming he’d go mad in such a small space. For some stupid reason, she would back up his assertions rather than fight them.

  “Yeah,” she admitted. “Some of it is really fun.”

  “Sometimes I forget who your parents are. You never talk about them much.”

  Ailis didn’t bother to point out that this was, hands down, the longest conversation she’d ever had with Hunter. But he was right. She didn’t discuss her famous parents very often. Not because she wasn’t incredibly proud of them. Truth was she adored her mom and dad, and there were very few days that went by where she didn’t see or speak to one of them on the phone.

  However, she had learned at a very young age that some of the friendships she thought she’d made weren’t built on anything more than kids wanting to get close to her so they’d have access to rock stars. Her silence in regards to her parents was based on self-preservation. It allowed her to not have to wonder if people liked her for her, and not Sky Mitchell and Teagan Collins. She had been friends with Paul nearly a year before he figured out who her folks were. It helped that her folks had elected to give her and her sister, Fiona, her dad’s real last name, instead of Mitchell.

  “Yeah,” Hunter said, more to himself than her. “I’m going back to music.”

  It was a weird conversation, but for some strange reason, Ailis felt almost comforted by it. She’d come up with a plan and she’d talked it out with someone. Why that suddenly made everything seem more bearable was a mystery. But it did.

  “We’re going to be okay.”

  Hunter looked at her as if he wanted to believe her, but couldn’t quite grasp it yet. “I guess we’re not the first people on the planet to get the shit kicked out of us. And we won’t be the last.”

  “No. We’re not. What are you going to do tonight?”

  He shrugged. “Go home, fall into a bottle of bourbon, feel sorry for myself, probably send Rhonda a hundred texts I’ll regret in the morning.”

  Ailis giggled. God, she really must be teetering on the edge of insanity if anything coming out of Hunter’s mouth amused her. “Give me your phone.”

  Hunter handed his cell over without question or complaint. Ailis put her number in under Rhonda’s name as he watched, his grin growing.

  “Drink enough bourbon and you’ll forget about that switch. This way, the texts will come to me and you won’t have to regret anything tomorrow. I’ll delete them without reading them. Promise.”

  “I’d appreciate that. What about you? You want my number in Paul’s place?”

  She shook her head. “No. That’s not going to be a problem. You know me. I’m going the silent-treatment route.”

  “I think you should text him. Tell him off. Not good to keep all that bottled up.”

  “Maybe I will,” she lied, knowing she’d never do it. She avoided confrontation like the plague.

  “You going to be alright?”

  She nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’m going to crawl into bed and have a good long cry. Then tomorrow, I’ll pack up my stuff, move home and cry on my cousins’ shoulders. And at some point, I’ll stop crying.”

  “Very logical of you.” Hunter stood up and she followed suit, walking behind him as he headed toward the door. He opened it, and then turned to face her. “Thanks, Ailis.”

  It was the first time he’d ever called her by her real name instead of mouse. And she didn’t care for the formality of it. Too much had already changed tonight. She wanted to hold on to just one thing. Even if it was something stupid and annoying.

  “Mouse,” she corrected.

  He chuckled. “You’re the fiercest mouse I’ve ever met. And I think you might have saved me tonight.”

  She sniffled as the first of the tears decided to make their appearance, his kindness doing her in. “No problem,” she said, hating the thickness of her voice. He’d helped her too. More than he’d ever know.

  “Take care of yourself, mouse.”

  “You too,” she whispered, even though he’d already left. She closed the door, locked it and gave up the fight, letting the tears fall.

  * * *

  Wild Desire is available now.

  * * *

  Fancy another treat? How about the first chapter of Waiting for You from Sparks in Texas? Click to the next page.

  Waiting for You - Chapter One

  “Good morning, Gran. What brings you here so early? We usually don’t see you until lunchtime.” Sydney Sparks put a clean coffee cup down in front of Mrs. Parsons, her grandmother through self-appointed adoption, and filled it for her.

  “I actually stopped by because I wanted to see you.”

  Sydney rested her arms on the counter and grinned. She’d known Mrs. Parsons, Chas’ grandmother, for most of her life. Chas and Sydney had grown up together, best friends since the first day of kindergarten. His grandmother and uncle had raised Chas, so Sydney had spent a lot of time in Gran’s kitchen after school or on hot summer afternoons as she and Chas mooched homemade chocolate chip cookies or ice-cold lemonade.

  “Well, that’s nice of you. But I just saw you the day before yesterday in the grocery store.”

  Gran took a sip of her coffee. “Yes, but that was before I got this.” Gran slid an envelope across the counter.

  Sydney recognized the handwriting instantly and her blood went cold. She’d been anticipating this moment for several weeks now. Chas had enlisted in the Marines fresh out of high school, shipping off for basic training just two weeks after graduation. Since then, he’d re-upped twice.

  The time had run out on his third term of service and Sydney expected—feared—he’d continue his tour for a fourth.

  Chas had spent the majority of the past decade in the Middle East. A fact that had cost Sydney—and she suspected Gran as well—countless nights of sleep. His unit had been deployed to Iraq once and he was currently finishing up a third tour in Afghanistan. He’d been shot twice, lost several friends in skirmishes with militant forces and seen horrors Sydney couldn’t even begin to imagine. Not that Chas talked about it much. Usually whenever he was home for too-brief, too-infrequent visits, he purposely didn’t discuss his experiences overseas. And Sydney didn’t press because she understood his desire to put it all away, to forget about it for a little while.

  But she’d seen the truth in his eyes. They weren’t the same twinkling, mischievous sky blue they’d been when they were kids. Instead, they were now serious, haunted and she’d swear they had faded to slate gray, though she wasn’t sure if it was possible for eyes to actually change color.

  Sydney looked at the envelope, but made no move to pick it up.

  “Aren’t you going to read it?” Gran asked.

  Sydney shook her head. “Not much point. I know what it says.”

  Gran seemed surprised. “You do? He told you his plans?”

  Sydney lifted one shoulder casually, hoping she could hide her disappointment but suspecting Gran wouldn’t be fooled. “I know Chas. He’ll do another four years.”

  Gran grinned. “Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think.”

  Sydney wasn’t sure how to respond as hope flared. “He didn’t sign on for another stint?”

  Gran shook her head. “No. He’s coming home, Sydney. To stay.”

  Sydney struggled to take a breath, certain she’d heard Gran wrong, that her mind was playing tricks on her and letting her hear what she wanted to hear because it simply couldn’t accept the truth.

  “Home?” she whispered.

  Gran rose from her stool slowly and reached out to clasp Sydney’s hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “Our boy is coming back to us.”

  “But I thought…”

  Gran patted Sydney’s cheek. “I thought the same. Thought he’d keep going back until he got too old. Figured he’d work until it was time to retire.” Lifting the letter, Gran slipped it into Sydney’s hand. “He’ll be back a week from Monday. He’s begged me not to plan a welcome-home party, says he doesn’t want it.”

  Sydney smiled. “That sounds like Chas. He hates to be the center of attention.”

  “Only kid I ever knew who pitched a fit if someone threw him a birthday party. Even so, I was hoping you’d come to the airport with Julian and me to pick him up. I think he’d be right pleased to see you there when he gets off that plane.”

  Julian was Chas’ uncle, though Sydney swore the man could have been Chas’ father. She’d never seen two men look more alike. They were both tall—nearly six-five—and broad, muscular. Their size should, and did, make them intimidating…until they opened their mouths to speak. Two kinder, funnier men have never lived. Gran called them her giant teddy bears. It was an apt description.

  “I’d love to come to the airport, if you’re sure you don’t mind. I don’t want to intrude on a family reunion.”

  Gran waved her concern away. “You are family, Sydney. You have been since you were knee high to a grasshopper.”

  The fact that Chas was coming home—really coming home—was finally starting to sink in. Sydney couldn’t have stopped smiling if her life depended on it.

  “I’ll make a sign,” Sydney said. “A huge welcome home banner. And I’ll make him his favorite—red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting.”

  Gran stepped away from the counter. “Well, I best be going. I’ll call you later in the week with the details for our trip to the airport.”

  Sydney started to hand the letter back, but Gran refused to take it. “No. That’s for you.”

  Sydney couldn’t understand why Gran wanted her to have the letter, but she kept it, tucking it in the pocket of her apron as she walked around the counter to hug the woman. As big as her boys were, that’s as small as Gran was. Barely touching five feet, she was fairly petite. Sydney had noticed Gran seemed to be shrinking, but that fact didn’t diminish the woman’s strength. When Gran hugged her, Sydney felt it all the way to her bones and it made her feel warm, cherished.

  “Thank you for being such a good friend to my boy. I’m glad he’s had you in his life all these years.”

 

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