Page 80 of Wild Mistake
“It won’t be until eight or nine.”
“Perfect.”
“That won’t be too late?”
“Sarah, it’s never too late if I get to spend time with you.” He presses a tender kiss to my lips, then backs up, walking toward his truck. “Text me when you’re on your way. I’ll have dessert waiting.”
“Dessert?” I grin. “Like, actual dessert or sexual fantasies dessert?”
“Both.” He winks. “Of course.”
The smile on my face doesn’t fade as he climbs in his truck. Not when I walk inside and slip on my apron. Not even four hours later when I’ve made it through the lunch rush and finally take a break.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt this happy. I’m almost scared to lean into the feeling. Like, if I do, everything will fall apart. I lost my footing before when I got too comfortable. Nothing ever goes my way for too long. But I keep reminding myself it’s okay to be happy again. I can’t allow the past to dictate my future.
I have to trust that after all the mistakes I’ve made, there’s still good to be had. That everything has led me back to this town. To Aiden.
29
AIDEN
Over the next few days,Sarah comes over in the evenings after dinner. We share stories, filling in bits and pieces of the eighteen years spent apart. We laugh. We cry. We make love. The only thing that would make it better is if she stayed the night.
The snow storm hits on Wednesday night and doesn’t stop for a full twenty-four hours. Wilder Valley only gets a few big snow storms a year, if we’re lucky. Most of the time it’s never cold enough to stick.
The town pretty much shuts down and the main roads aren’t fully plowed until Friday. Pops’ caretakers can’t get to the ranch because of the roads so I take over. I’ve spent a good amount of time with my father over the last few weeks, but it’s different being the only person responsible for him.
All my waking hours are spent between Pops and shoveling snow. Sarah and I talk and text, but I’m dying to see her again. So when Friday evening rolls around and Dad’s caretaker arrives, I don’t waste time and head straight for the diner.
The snow from the storm lines the highway in drifts of white that bring on a wave of nostalgia from winters past. The lights wrapped around the giant tree in front of the diner glint like a beacon guiding me to my destination. I’m extra careful as I turn the truck onto the gravel dirt lot. It’s a cold one tonight and some of this moisture is bound to turn to ice, especially as the snow melts.
The diner is popping. The front lot is almost full. I always park in the back, but when I don’t spot Sarah’s vehicle, dread tightens my chest. Shit. I hope she’s here. If not, I’ll be tracking her down and making sure everything’s okay.
My worries vanish as soon as I round the corner of the diner and glance inside the giant windows. There she is. Sarah is taking an order when I push inside the building, so I take an open seat at the counter and wait for her to walk by.
“Hey, beautiful.” I reach for her arm when she doesn’t seem to notice me on her way behind the counter.
“Oh, hey.” Her brow furrows with concentration.
“I didn’t see your car in the back. I was worried you called out and didn’t tell me. Is everything okay?”
“Aiden, I’m working.” She glances over my shoulder before meeting my gaze. “And I don’t have to run every decision I make past you.”
Okay. “I wasn’t implying you should.”
“What can I get you?” She pulls out her notepad and flips through it for a blank page. She’s not being rude. But she’s also not being very warm. Something’s up.
“Hey, are you okay? Did I do something?”
“I’m sorry. It’s not you.”
“Something happen with the boys?”
“No. Though I’m pretty sure I snapped at both of them this afternoon.” Her voice quivers as if she wants to cry. “I’m having a really horrible day. Pain-wise.”
Shit. I didn’t even consider. The crazy thing about her disease is she looks perfectly fine. Or, at least until I study her closer. She’s tried to hide the circles beneath her eyes with makeup. Her fingers shake as she pours coffee into my mug. She’s hurting, and I can’t help but want to make it better.
“What can I do to help?”
