Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
I wasn’t convinced. “Then, how—”
“As much as I trust you, did you honestly think I’d not call my daughter to check on her for three days without being able to see for myself that she was okay and happy? Give me some credit.”
I threw up my free hand, exasperated, then placed it on my hip, getting annoyed by the second. “Is there a camera in this house, Wilder?” I asked him, my horror growing as that idea sank in.
Had I walked in front of it in my panties and bra?
“Oakley, I specialize in cyber data security technology. My house has the best security system that money can buy. Yes, there are cameras in the house that I can pull up on my phone at any time. But not in your bedroom or bathroom, if that is what you’re thinking.”
Gripping the phone tighter, I swung my gaze around the room, wishing I knew where the camera was so I could glare at it. “Security? Like websites and stuff. Not as in your house is wired. What if I decided to walk through the house in my underwear when Sarah wasn’t here?” I asked tightly, stalking out of the room and away from his creepy camera.
“Have you?” he asked.
I thought about it and then shook my head. “No.”
“Then, you have nothing to be concerned about. I just check them in the afternoons or evenings when I have a moment to make sure Sarah is okay. I have no interest in being a voyeur.”
I was relieved and yet a little letdown. He wasn’t tempted to see what I was doing? Ever? Of course he wasn’t. The man tolerated me for Sarah’s sake. Shaking off the darkness that had suddenly come over me, I straightened my shoulders again. I was better than this. He would not make me sad.
“I need to go wake Sarah enough to walk her up to her bed. Do you want to try and talk to her?” I asked.
“No, I’ll wait until tomorrow, when she’s fully awake.”
“Okay, well, I’ll let her know you called.”
He was silent for a moment. Had he already hung up? I knew the man didn’t like me, but that was just a level of rude I wouldn’t expect. Not even from him.
“Thanks, Oakley. For this week. All the things you’ve done with her. She’s always smiling when I see her on the cameras. I appreciate it.”
My chest felt weird and achy. I hated that. I hated that he could make me feel anything.
“I love her. No need to thank me.” My voice was tight.
I hoped there was no stupid camera in the foyer. I wasn’t sure if my emotions were all over my face or not. This camera business was going to mess with my head.
“I know you do. I just wanted you to know that I’m grateful.”
I nodded, then realized he might not be able to see me. “Thanks,” I muttered, unsure of what to say to that.
“Good night, Oakley.”
“Good night.” My reply was a touch too soft, and I ended the call quickly.
I stuck the phone back in my pocket, then stood there and stared at the wall, letting that entire conversation run through my head.
When had we talked like that last? That much? Without fighting or saying something to hurt the other one? Sarah would always be the reason we could never truly get each other out of our lives. It had been that way since the day she had been born.
But if there weren’t a Sarah, would I have truly ever moved on from Wilder? Deep down, I felt like that was impossible. He’d made a mark so powerful in me all those years ago. What we had been together burned so brightly at times that it felt as if it would consume me. He was a flame that I couldn’t stay away from. I had been drawn to him. I’d ached for him.
A heaviness settled over my heart. That was all in the past. The only thing left of that fire was the ashes.
Sixteen
Wilder
The call ended, but that didn’t stop me from looking at my phone. My gaze was locked on Oakley, standing in the elaborately decorated foyer at my home, staring at the wall, as if lost in thought. She didn’t move, except for the small rise and fall of her shoulders when she sighed.
What was she thinking about? Me? The past?
“Damn, she can make a pair of yoga pants look hot,” King said, and I turned to see him looking over my right shoulder.
I shoved the phone in my pocket, annoyed that he’d been watching her—or that he’d caught me doing it.
“Why’d you do that?” he complained. “I wanted to see if she had a bra on under that little cutoff T-shirt she was wearing. She just needed to turn to the left a few more inches.”