Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
She nods and lets me guide her down the stairs and out of the house without argument, a sure sign she’s in shock.
Chapter Seventeen
Maven
I feel so silly, sitting in the front of Ace’s truck with Wilder beside me while I sob until my eyes are dry and my throat is sore. No matter how ridiculous I feel, I can’t seem to stop the body-quaking sobs as they escape me.
“I’m sorry, Wilder, I just…can’t. I have nothing—no scratch that—I have less than nothing. And why? Because I broke up with a guy who lied to me about everything!”
“Maven.” Wilder’s tone is helpless, and I smile because it’s sweet that he cares.
“No, it’s fine. I mean, I shouldn’t even be surprised at this point. He was yet another in a long line of Mr. Wrongs.” A bitter laugh escapes, and I shake my head. “I can’t even believe I thought he could even possibly be The One. The One,” I snort. “There’s no such thing as The One. I need to get that through my thick head. Period. Point blank. End of story.”
Wilder’s hand grips my shoulder and gives me a supportive squeeze. “Okay, so that dick breath didn’t work out. That’s a blessing in disguise.”
“Right,” I snort. “How do you figure?”
“Right now, you thought he could maybe be the one, but that means he wasn’t, which means that you’re disappointed but not heartbroken. You know how much harder it would have been to kick him to the curb if you actually loved the prick?”
He makes a good point. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s true, but he’s ruined my home and destroyed all of my belongings, Wilder. I’m pretty fucking heartbroken already.”
His smile is sad as it quirks up to one side. “It’s a good thing you have a thriving business because you’re an excellent baker and a good businesswoman. That booming business will help you replace the stuff inside those four walls. And you have me to help you with…whatever you need.”
I look into that smile, and I want to believe it. Right now, I really want to believe it, but the cynical side of me is right on the surface, and that bitch is keeping my head on straight.
“Right. I have you? I have you for now, Wilder. As soon as you and your club get what you need from me, you’ll be gone.” And I’ll be all alone. Again.
“That’s not true, Maven. I mean, sure, our paths crossed in equal parts because of your delicious treats and good luck.”
“Good luck?”
He nods. “I mean, the odds of me coming in at the exact moment you needed me was pure luck.” His proud smile puts a smile on my face too.
“Okay, sure, I’ll buy that. I mean, it’s probably the only piece of good luck I’ve had in a good long while.”
I shake my head as the shitshow that is my life crystallizes right before my eyes. “All my life, I have done my best to avoid trouble of any kind, most especially troubled men. Still, I somehow landed myself in the middle of a fucking biker war.”
I bury my hands in my face in anticipation of tears, but it’s laughter that surprises me instead. “I just wanted a new car!”
“You still have the car, right?”
I look up at Wilder with a wide-eyed expression and sigh. “Yeah, if he hasn’t fucked that up too.”
Chances are good that Cyrus definitely put a pipe bomb or rotten fish in my car. “I just wanted a new car that wouldn’t break down every other day. And what did I get for my efforts? A vandalized home, no possessions to speak of, and nothing. Absolutely fucking nada.”
“That’s just stuff, Maven. It’s all shit that can be replaced. Easily.” I quirk a brow at him. “Okay, so maybe some of the photos are toast, but I’ll bet you have many of ’em in your phone or with your parents?”
I nod, and I’m starting to feel better about my situation. “You surprise me, Wilder. I didn’t peg you as the optimist.”
“I’m more of a realist,” he answers with a shy smile. “I’m a natural problem solver. It’s how I process the bullshit.”
“The bullshit? You mean my shitshow of a life?”
“No. You need a lot of fucking energy to emotionally process what was done to your personal space, but the rest, replacing panties and toiletries, clothes, and furniture? That’s practical stuff that can be easily accomplished. That way you can grieve over your broken trust.”
I smile at this young man, handsome and brave and far too level-headed for my current emotional state. “You’re not what I expected at all, Wilder. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, babe.” There’s a sparkle in his eyes, and in an instant, they darken and fill with heat that I feel throughout my body.
“I want to get my car. It’s the only thing of value I have left, and I need to get it. Please.”