Promise Me This (Wilder Family, #3)

by Karla Sorensen

“I wasn’t gonna throw it at you,” I said quickly. “It was for Brady.” “I know,” she said. Then her whole body shuddered. “H-he got me earlier too.” “Is that why you’re hiding?” I asked. I puffed my little chest out. “Because I’ll get him for you. I have a good arm, and I’m bigger than him.”

We can’t fix all the world’s problems by ourselves, but even one small, nice thing can change someone’s world.

“I promise you’ll never go cold as long as I’m around,”

Oh, I wonder if that’s Estelle and Robert’s youngest, I heard she had a kid a few years ago and never heard from the father again when she found out she was pregnant.

The truth was, I wasn’t close to anyone in Sisters. The only person I’d been close to before I moved had been out of town as long as me. So the he she mentioned couldn’t possibly be Ian Wilder—my childhood best friend, the hero of my youth, and the only man I’d ever really trusted. The man who, to the best of my knowledge, still called London home.

The temptation to clarify which brother’s girlfriend danced on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it down. There was no way Ian was single, not after all this time.

“He moved back?” I heard myself asking. She nodded, eyes bright and fervent. “Yes, and he’s got this gorgeous farmhouse he just bought from Cameron’s girlfriend. Shocked the hell out of all of us when he did it. Didn’t tell anyone he put in an offer.”

“I’m so sorry, Ian.” She shook her head. “I wish I’d been here.” I wish she had been too, but I kept that truth locked up tight because it led to a bigger conversation that she and I would still need to have. And there wasn’t enough time for that. Not when I took the last turn toward her parents’ house.

Watching your kid get older was the strangest double-edged sword. Feeling your heart break daily because they didn’t depend on you quite as much while wanting to cry from how fucking proud you were that they weren’t a total asshole human being.

“Thanks to the wonders of childbirth and the fifteen pounds I never quite lost, I have the cleavage I always dreamed of. No paper towel necessary.” Ian’s dark eyes never dropped from my face. What a good boy.

“I have an idea. You’re going to say no at first, but eventually, you’ll admit that I’m right.” “Gawd, no wonder you’re single. That’s your best approach when asking a woman to do something?” Ian’s eyes sparked with humor, but his firm lips stayed in a straight line. “Move in with me.” “What?” I yelled. The coffee shop fell silent, and when everyone turned in our direction, I sank in the booth and covered my mouth with one hand. Ian choked on a small laugh. I kicked out underneath the table, connecting with his shin. When he grimaced, I dropped the hand covering my mouth. “Absolutely not.” “See? Just as I predicted.” “Oh fuck off,” I said, completely without heat. “Ian, that’s crazy.”

Maybe I’d find time to sneak into the barber shop downtown, trim up the beard, and take a couple of inches off my hair. Enough that I could still tie it back, but just … clean it up a little. Not for any particular reason, of course, but my entire family had been giving me shit about needing a haircut since the moment I arrived.

“I’m a Jets fan, but Portland isn’t all bad. Wanted to catch the pregame for the Thursday night matchup. Their offense is great, but if they don’t fix the defensive line, they’re screwed.” She shook her head. “The blocking against the run is pathetic.” I smothered a grin. My brother played tight end with the Portland Voyagers, but I didn’t want to seem like I was showing off.

Do you know how unfair it is that you look like an actual lumberjack, and you make these gorgeous things out of hunks of wood?” Around my pizza, I smiled. “That’s unfair?” “Yes. For the rest of the male species, it is. It’s like the most primitive part of my brain lights up and goes … oooh, this one can build you important things, stick close to him.”

“Are you doing that thing again where you’re trying to save me, even to your own detriment?” The accusation stung, but fuck if there wasn’t truth behind why she asked.

Cameron shook his head. “You’re moving faster than I thought. Which shocked the hell out of me because I thought you’d live in your delusions forever.” I took a step closer, lowering my voice so the whole damn crew couldn’t hear me. “She needed a place to stay, and I have the space, that’s all.” “Okay.” My jaw clenched tight. “Do you ever think about the fact that maybe you’re the reason I don’t ever talk about her? It was never like that with us. And you can’t fucking drop it.” With Cameron studying my face far too deeply for comfort, his best friend Jax approached from behind. He paused briefly, studying the body language between us, then rolled his eyes. “He can never drop something when he thinks he’s right,” Jax said. “It’s annoying.” I held my hands out like, I rest my case. Jax continued. “Except in this case, he is right, and you’re a moron.”

“No? You’re telling me even back in high school, you never thought about it?” My jaw tightened. Once. I’d thought about it once, and I felt like a total jerk afterward because we’d never crossed lines. Never even flirted with the lines.

“Nothing ever happened between us,” I said smoothly. “Maybe not then,” Jax said. “If you keep playing house every night, it’s only a matter of time. First, you’ll notice the little things. Then the big things. And then she’s all you can think about.” He took a step. “You ready for that, Ian?” Something simmered underneath his words, and I tried to pluck out what that might be. “You projecting your own shit onto me, Jax?” The big man went quiet, and now it was his turn for his jaw to clench.

“I remember watching you two,” he said. “Dad had just married Sheila. All of us kids were figuring out our place in this new big family, but you had her. And I never realized how much that relationship meant to you, but you never really tried to get close to Sheila’s kids. Not at first.” He studied my face. “Because you had Harlow.”

“I think you got caught up in old roles with an old friend because it was easier than you thought to see her again. But she’s a different person, Ian. So are you. If you think about it, you’ve both had an entire lifetime apart from each other.” He slapped a hand on my shoulder. “Just give it breathing room. You two can figure it out, but it’s not going to be the way it used to be between you two. That version of your friendship is gone.”

For my entire childhood, the Wilder family felt like a fairy tale. Watching from the edges of Ian’s life, I couldn’t imagine anything better than what they’d created out of a second chance for both Tim and Sheila. Being a Wilder, to me, meant acceptance and welcome. It meant love and a landing place. Maybe Ian had always taken that a little bit for granted simply because he had it. When your landing place came tied up with strings and disappointment and I told you so, it didn’t feel like such a soft, friendly place to settle. But Ian’s house had that same quality for Sage and me that his family’s home had always had for everyone else.

For a long moment, I stared at him, trying to figure out a way to say what I was thinking without being too harsh. “You idiot.” That was what I came up with. His eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?” “You ignore me to save our friendship?” “I wasn’t ignoring you,” he argued. “I was…” He paused, clearly flustered and setting his hands on his hips. “Giving you breathing room.” Maybe my eye roll was a bit much, based on the answering look he gave me, but honestly. This is why society would crumble without women, besides the whole procreation bit. Men would destroy everything, left to their own devices. “Let me guess,” I said, “it was a man who gave you this shitty advice.” Based on the immediate grimace, I knew I was right. I shook my head. Ian spread his arms out. “Okay, fine, he’s the last person I should listen to. But I don’t … I didn’t want to find out the hard way that he was right.”

Ian cleared his throat pointedly. “Jax there is the one who gave me the shit advice to ignore you.” The guy in question widened his eyes. “That’s not what I said.” His gaze swung to me. “That’s not what I said.” I quirked an eyebrow. “Let me guess, you’re single.” Cameron snorted. “Terminally.” Jax sighed. “I didn’t … I didn’t tell him to ignore you.”

“No wonder you two get along,” the guy next to Cameron mumbled. “She’s the female version of you.” “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said breezily.

With a huff, she marched out to the office, and my brother watched with a gooey look in his eyes. “Sap,” I told him. “She’s amazing,” he said. “I love watching her scare the shit out of people.” “Let me guess, she likes to tie you up in bed and walk on your back with stilettos.” He smacked me on the shoulder. “Brother, if I wouldn’t make you feel woefully inadequate, I’d tell you just how wrong you are. But I’ll take pity on you since you probably haven’t gotten laid in a decade because you’re such a troll.”

Because, man, it sucked that he was gone. Every time someone wanted to talk to me about him, the words stuck like sand in my throat, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t wash it away. Couldn’t really get the words out either. Or never the right ones, at least. But I did manage this. “He would’ve loved you, Sage.” Even though my voice was rough and uneven, and the words came out like someone dragged them through spikes, she gave me a shy smile that broke my fucking heart. Oh God, how I wished he could meet her.

“He was home last night,” she pointed out. “That was fun.” “It was.” She walked past me, then hung her backpack on the hook in the hallway off the kitchen. “I like him,” she said simply.

Certain things stayed buried in deep, dark places out of sheer self-preservation. There was a musty graveyard in my brain where all my secret yearnings were covered in six feet of worm-filled dirt, and the headstones were carved with various words that I refused to label because it was scary to want them too badly. Things like a big family and a father who loved her and a husband who gave me butterflies and the kind of happiness that comes from feeling like the best version of yourself with someone else beside you. Watching them like that… I blew out a sharp breath and tried not to think about the things it unearthed.

In all my overthinking before we moved in, I’d only spent a small amount of time worrying about whether this would wreck our friendship. It was so easy with him. It always had been.

“You.” I gestured vaguely. “All you’re missing is a cowboy hat and some glistening abs, and you could be on the cover of a book.” He snorted, but the slightest wash of pink tinged the tips of his cheekbones.

Through the mask on her face, her dimple appeared, and I knew I was a fucking goner. “Don’t get it in my beard,” I warned.

“At least you’re folding your own laundry,” she continued, eyes on the cards in her hand. “Mom’s underwear is all lacy, and I won’t touch it.” My eyes locked onto Harlow’s face, and I watched with unbridled fascination as she refused to look in my direction, color crawling up the length of her neck and blooming on her cheeks. The color was a spectacular shade of pink. “That so?” I asked. It was nothing short of a miracle that my voice came out so smoothly, because there was a violent sort of splitting in my head, the immediate flash of long legs and colored lace making my temples throb. Fuck, maybe I needed to get laid. It had been too long. Far too long.

“They’re getting married later this year. Need to wait until the season is done.” While she was helping clear the table, Sage’s movements slowed. “What season?” I fought a grin. “Football.” She blinked a few times. “Who’s your sister engaged to?” she asked in a hushed whisper. My pause was a bit more dramatic than necessary, but I couldn’t help it. “Emmett Ward.” The cards fell out of her hands, and her butt plopped back into her seat. “The all-pro quarterback from the Washington Wolves?” she asked on a squeak. “Son of Logan Ward, the best defensive coach of the last decade?”

“I’d panic. Can you imagine if we’re sitting at dinner and Parker asks me to pass the salt, and I blurt out that he needs to work on his rush blocking if he expects their run game to improve?” I locked eyes with her. “I would pay you cold hard cash to say something like that to him.”

“Brought the whole family over, huh?” he said quietly. “Honest to God, Cameron, I’ll punch you in the nuts if you make a single comment like that at the dinner table.”

Sheila laughed. “You were playing games before you came over?” Sage nodded. “And doing moisturizing face masks.” She beamed in my direction. “See how nice Ian’s skin looks? He did one too.” The room went quiet, a stunned silence that had my stomach dropping somewhere into my feet. Fucking. Hell.

While he read quietly on the couch, I set up my computer and popped my earbuds in because honestly, I couldn’t handle the sound of him turning pages or making noises because I’d end up clutching his shirt and begging him for validation. Mentally, I slapped the shit out of myself. I didn’t need his validation, thank you very much.

“Movie’s fine. Two hot people dancing around each other when everyone knows they’re in love, and they’re the last to admit it. They always end the same.”

The laugh I exhaled was short and shocked. “You’re extorting me so she can have a spot on the team?” His stare was unwavering. “No. I’m asking a favor. You want me to do a favor for Sage, right? Make an exception for her that we’ve never made before.”

“Nope,” I said decisively. “Going for a blond guy this time.” Her eyebrows climbed high on her forehead. “Blond, huh? That’s a … choice.”

His gut instinct was to be overprotective of my daughter, which, you know, didn’t help The Thoughts. Not like he could know that, though.

Ivy sniffed. “As long as she wasn’t hitting on my Wilder, I’ll admit she’s got a certain appeal.” Harlow and Poppy laughed as Cameron wrapped an arm around Ivy’s waist and pulled her in next to his stool. “She was definitely hitting on the less nice brother, which means she has terrible taste.”

Jax eyed my purse like it might explode. “Note to self. Don’t piss her off.” Then he cocked a brow at Ian. “And you better not be sneaking into her room at night. You might get stabbed.” My face went unnecessarily warm. “No one is sneaking into anyone’s room, okay? And I don’t just … whip it out as soon as I hear a noise.” “Unless they’re into that sort of thing,” Poppy said. Every person at the table swiveled in her direction. She blinked a few times. “What? I’m not saying I am, but … people have all sorts of kinks, right? I’m not here to judge.” “Dear God, will someone please change the subject,” Jax said, his hands covering his face.

“You don’t ask anyone’s opinion when you’re even a little bit afraid to hear the answer.”

Did I want him to ask me to dance? Yes. And no. Not here. Not now. Even through the throbbing tightness in my chest, I gave Ian a wry grin. “Don’t worry, I have no hopes for that. Ian has never asked me to dance.” His eyes stayed steady on mine. Poppy gaped. “What? Not even at prom or anything?” “Never.” I set my chin in my hands and stared at my best friend. “What’s up with that?” I asked. “You have two left feet or something?” “Or something,” he murmured. Poppy gave her brother a look of such disgust, I burst out laughing. “It’s okay, Poppy, really.”

“Want me to do the two braids?” I asked. “We’ve got enough time.” “Yeah.” She sat crisscrossed on her bed, and I stood behind her. “Will you teach me how to do these someday?” “Of course. We may have to watch some videos first, though. I can’t really teach you on my own head, but we’ll figure it out.”

“You will have forever brownie points for this one, Ian Wilder.” “That’s why I do it.” I cut him a sideways look. “No, it’s not.” He kept his gaze trained on the field. “Sure it is. That way, when I’m a dick, people forgive me a little bit easier.”

Ian exhaled a quiet laugh. “Yeah. It sure does. Maybe I can still pay her to give Parker a full critique at dinner.”

That I didn’t used to catch a glimpse of her and think, When did she get so fucking beautiful?

“You’re hugging me,” I said quietly, even as my arm naturally slid down her back and anchored her close to my chest. My person was hugging me, and with every ounce of ruthlessness I could muster, I wrenched aside the thought that it didn’t feel the way a hug from a friend should feel. Inside my head, I tried to slam down a thick metal wall—tall and black and impenetrable—against thoughts like that. Maybe if I built up a big enough barrier, I could pretend they didn’t exist.