Page 123 of Wild

“I’ll be around if you need anything,” he says, bleeding into the shadows once more.

Mia looks down at her plate. “This looks delicious.”

“It does,” I agree.

I requested steak, a lobster tail, asparagus, and a loaded baked potato.

“I didn’t realize how hungry I was. I forgot to eat lunch,” she admits.

“Why didn’t you?” I question, cutting into my steak.

“Well, I worked at the sub shop and by the time I got home I was so focused on getting ready I didn’t think to eat.”

“Eat up then. You’re going to need your energy.”

“For what?” she asks coyly.

“All the things I have planned to do to you later.”

“Sounds promising.”

“It’s not a promise, baby. It’s a fucking vow.”

I swear she eats a little faster.

When our meal is done, and the plates are cleared away I stand and offer her my hand.

She looks at me speculatively. “What now?”

“Take my hand and you’ll see.”

She slips her pale hand in mine, and I haul her up into my arms.

“Tom,” I call out to the staff member as I guide Mia over to where I want her. It’s at the end of the green house, with the glass walls overlooking the city. “Now,” I say as the night sky lights up with fireworks.

The music begins to play, and I bow before her—I might have a flare for the dramatics.

“Will this beautiful lady accept my offer to dance?”

“I might be inclined,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice as I raise up.

I place my hand at her waist, clasp her hand in my other one, and begin to ballroom dance.

She gasps. “I didn’t know you could dance like this.”

“I couldn’t. I watched a bunch of YouTube videos when I had time. I still can’t tell you what dance this is, but I think it’s a waltz or some shit. But hey, at least I can do it.”

She shakes her head. “And the fireworks—is that you too?”

“Nope, but I knew they were going off in the park for the early Christmas festivities and I timed it just right. But the song, it’s only for you, baby,” I whisper the last in her ear.

She quiets then, listening to the song.

“It’s the song you wrote for me, but it’s…”

“Acoustic,” I tell her. “I slowed it down, made it raw, more … real. And yes, baby, before you ask that is me on the guitar. I’m a man ofmanytalents” I smirk at her.

She shakes her head, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”