Page 72 of Found in Wild Sage

I’m grateful she doesn’t say it. My hands flop at my sides. “I don’t know. He keeps saying friends, but…”

It’s too embarrassing to list all the moments I’ve felt like maybe there was more. Maybe he was looking at me more like a woman and less like a friend or single mom he’s helping out, or even an employee he’s going the extra mile for.

Ugh.

Her expression shifts. “Oh.” A big grin spreads across her face. “Then it’s not a done deal.”

As much as she’s been through, I’m always delighted to see her so light. Maybe that’s why I don’t contradict her.

Or maybe I’m still hoping there’s a chance my efforts to maintain custody of my son won’t mean completely destroying my heart.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Declan

Grant laughs, then claps as Poppy and Lily emerge from the frigid river water at the same time.

Charlie’s with Ma and Da. Sisi, Rowan, Finn, and May are all being idiots in the water. But as Grant pointed out, the fact that they’re in the water means he doesn’t have to be in order for the girls to be in.

“Evie feeling better?” His gaze is on the girls, but I’ve known Grant my whole life. He’s hunting.

“Yes. All better.”

“Good. Good.”

It’s coming, so I brace and keep my focus on my nieces and nephew.

“And how’s the marriage?”

There it is.

“Going well, from what I can tell.”

“Is it?”

I scowl over at him because he’s about as subtle as a boulder. And I don’t speak, because clearly, he has something to say regardless of what I do.

He shrugs. “She looked like she had her mind on something when you two showed up. I’d guess Sam thought so, too, which is why they disappeared.”

The low hum of anxiety running through my mind notches up. I don’t know what’s going on with Evie, but I very much want to know. I can’t push her, and if I keep talking to her, I’ll ruin everything. I’ll end up pressuring her to say things she doesn’t mean or give me things she doesn’t want someone to take. I don’t want some mistaken sense of gratitude, or even fondness, to take us anywhere. I can’t let loose my feelings and end up creating another cage for her. No, not something actively harmful, but still something she wouldn’t fully choose if circumstances were different. Without knowing for certain she would choose this, free and clear, I can’t do anything that will make her feel obligated.

I won’t do that. And so, I hold back. I keep every ounce of self-control wrapped around me, sutured into my chest so I feel the tug of it every time I want to lean into her, deterring me, pulling me back into my place.

Every time I want to press my lips to hers, or slide my arm around her waist and crush her to me. I want her so close, she’ll pull the stitches clean. I’d let her do it—unravel me however she wants.

It’s a foolish thought but it’s there—I think some part of me is healed thanks to her, so what she finds underneath the threads could be okay without them. I’m open to a future with someone—with her—in a way I thought forever lost to me before. I’m hoping for it, even, and all credit for that sense of hope, even as I hedge against it, is hers.

But even the thought of her wanting that kind of relationship with me any less than I want it with her shrivels me into dust. Part of me wishes I didn’t have those old scars. What would I do if I hadn’t been with Mallory and discovered she’d only stayed out of a misplaced sense of duty?

I can’t say. But it still wouldn’t change Evie’s past. It wouldn’t make a difference to the reality that she must be free to choose what she wants and I will do nothing to taint that, including impress upon her my own desires.

“I’ll talk to her. The whole family can be overwhelming.”

He gives me one of his signature Grant looks, but I keep my gaze ahead, where Finn is currently shoulder-pressing Lily above his head and singing “Macho Man” while she giggles maniacally. Everyone else is laughing at the spectacle.

“Damn, he’s an idiot. But he’s a great uncle,” Grant mutters.

“He likes for people to think he’s an idiot. You and I both know he’s nothing of the sort.”