Page 24 of Wild Promise

Hey, firecracker. The catering staff are locked down.

My insides buzzed. Not only had he done what he promised in less than twenty-four hours, but I kind of loved it when he called me firecracker. From anyone else the endearment would sound over the top, but when it came from him, it somehow felt special.

My fingers flew over the tiny keyboard.

U R the best

His reply popped up right away like he’d been ready and waiting to hit Send.

Go out with me tomorrow?

Can’t. Family day.

Monday?

Busy Monday.

Our exchange went silent. The bubbles on my screen started to blur as I stared at them. Then my phone rang and I almost dropped it on my face.

“Hey,” I answered, unable to stop smiling. “You called me.”

His laugh rumbled through the speaker, low and warm enough to make my stomach flip. “Yeah, I did.”

I hummed in response, melting into my pillow.

“Sounds like you’ve had a good night.”

“Mm-hmm.” I rolled onto my back. “It’d be even better if you were here.”

“Fuck, Melina. I can tell you’re probably too drunk to really mean that, but I still love hearing you say it.”

“But it’s true. I want you to come over.” My thighs rubbed together, and I gasped at the sudden, urgent spark of desire. “I’m willing to beg. Look.”

I raised my phone in the air and snapped a blurry selfie, sending it to him as proof.

After a moment of silence he groaned, “You’re literally killing me.” His voice was strained and rough around the edges, and the sound of it did something dangerous to my already spinning head. Not to mention my panties.

“I think I better say good night before things get out of hand.”

“Okay.” I was too gone to argue. “Good night, Zane Alexander.”

“Good night, my drunk little firecracker.”

Chapter Eight

Zane

With or without snow, ski season was officially underway. We hadn’t seen a single flake of the white stuff yet, but the temperature had stayed low enough for the resort to churn out some machine-groomed powder. Only one run was open so far, and it was rough as hell, but it was enough to bring out the locals and keep the tourists happy.

That meant business at The Summit was ramping up too. It was still early evening, but the steady swell of voices, clink of glasses, and packed tables told me we were heading for a busy night.

Nate wandered in, scanned the room with his usual sharp-eyed efficiency, then tipped his head at me in silent question before crossing the floor. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, his shoulders looked tight, and his jaw clenched as he dropped onto the stool beside me and leaned against the bar.

“Hey. You doing all right?” I asked. Nate was usually the picture of health and control, but right now, he looked worn down.

“I’m good.” He angled toward me, scanning my face. “What are you doing on this side of the bar?”

“It’s my night off. Colin, Larissa, and Caleb are handling things tonight.”