Wild at Heart (Wild, #2)

by K.A. Tucker

“Well … I’m wearing a dead woman’s clothes while I go through her belongings. I just found a hemorrhoid cushion in the back of the hallway closet. I’ve broken every fingernail, and I’m seriously considering opening a bottle of wine at”—I glance at my watch—“noon.” Marie presses her lips together to hide her smile, her gaze pausing on the bleach stains that I earned yesterday while on my hand and knees scrubbing the main-floor bath. “You look great. But you always do.” “Thanks, but I look like a vagabond,” I counter, borrowing a favorite word of Simon’s. Marie’s appearance is more polished than her usually casual, fresh-faced style. She’s still in jeans, but the sweater showing through her opened winter coat is pink and hugs her slender body. A light dusting of shadow coats her eyelids, a stroke of brown mascara makes her already thick fringe of lashes longer, and the beachy waves in her hair were likely created by an iron. I wonder if this is how she looks when she’s not the crusader, flying around Western Alaska, or if she put extra effort in, coming here today? Marie laughs and her focus drifts over the space. “There’s a lot of stuff here.”