This Wild Heart (Wilder Family #5)

Chapter 1

Parker

Three months earlier

“I’m married. That’s so weird.”

I smiled against the bottle of beer at my lips. “You’re married to my sister. That’s even weirder.”

Emmett glanced out onto the dance floor, watching his new wife dance with my sisters, and the love in his eyes was enough to make even the greatest of cynics feel a tiny flicker of hope in their chest.

Not me. I didn’t really feel much of anything these days.

All I felt was the collective gaze of my many sisters and mother trying to introduce me to every woman under the age of forty. This was what happened when you were the only single one left in the entire giant fucking family of mine.

I didn’t want to meet anyone. Least of all here where they could all watch and dissect and plan and plot. All they did was plan and plot.

I could practically hear it: How can we fix Parker? He’s still so sad. Maybe if he met the right woman…

Enter the parade of eligible wedding attendees. Honestly, it was a fucking miracle I wasn’t drunk off my ass.

Didn’t mean I wasn’t happy for my sister, even if she did marry my asshole best friend. Their wedding was stunning. Probably one of the most beautiful I’d ever been to—which made sense since my sister owned an event planning company.

Everything was tasteful and elegant, their personalities stamped into every inch. The room was covered in white and cream flowers, flickering candles and twinkling lights on just about every surface. The whole room fucking glowed.

Like drowning in a bridal magazine or something.

But damn, if everyone wasn’t happy. Emmett and Adaline came from big families, and even without the added guest list of Emmett’s teammates at Washington, it would’ve been a packed room.

Two hundred and fifty people were there to watch my sister marry the love of her life after spending a couple of years planning their perfect day.

After a sweet, emotional ceremony, where my stepmom, Sheila, walked Adaline down the aisle, and my eldest stepbrother, Erik, performed the ceremony, Emmett and Adaline cried their way through their vows. Almost everyone cried while they said their vows, based on the sound of sniffles echoing through the room.

Not me. Not because they weren’t great. I was just … distracted. Hell, I’d been distracted for six months. Burying one’s father had a tendency to do that to a guy.

All I could think about through the entire thing was that my dad should be there. He should be the one walking her down the aisle. Should be sitting next to Sheila while vows were exchanged and people whooped and cheered during their first kiss.

He should be there.

He should be there.

And he wasn’t.

Because he was gone. I’d lost him too. We’d all lost him.

Boom.

Once the thought of my father was there, there was no dislodging it, a persistent ache under my sternum that never quite went away. And when I thought things like that it was like someone set off a fucking grenade next to my ribs.

Six months since he died, and I still felt like it happened yesterday. Which was why I sat at a wedding with an empty feeling in my chest, trying to ignore the urge to get more beer. To find someone to make me feel just a little less alone.

I’d done that for a long time. Not tonight. Not anymore.

I pinched my eyes shut and took a few breaths. None of that would help. The song changed, and I heard Adaline yell for her new husband. He smiled and held up a finger.

“You’re being summoned.”

“Parker,” Adaline yelled. “Get your ass out here.”

I merely quirked an eyebrow.

Emmett managed to tear his eyes away from Adaline, narrowing on me in a way I didn’t really feel like dissecting. “You’re being summoned too. You going to ignore the bride?”

Come have fun with your family was the not-so-subtle subtext.

I decided to ignore that too.

“Pretending I don’t hear the things my sisters want me to do is good for my mental health. We call those boundaries.”

Emmett laughed, slapping my leg as he stood. “Yeah, well, ignoring my wife on our wedding day will likely end up with me sleeping on the floor, and I’d very much like to be in bed with her, so…”

“A single mention of sex with my sister, and I’ll never speak to you again.”

He was still chuckling as he walked away. My sister’s face glowed when he approached, and I felt that ache again. It wasn’t jealousy, not envy or anything of the sort. I didn’t want what they had.

A love like that felt fucking dangerous.

But sometimes I just wanted to feel something. Anything.

I picked up the beer again, sighing when I remembered it was empty, and decided one more wouldn’t hurt. One more and I’d be done. We’d already made it through the toasts and the first dances, through the delicious cake. One more beer to show I wasn’t bolting, and I’d be able to lock myself in my hotel room and stare at the ceiling for the rest of the night.

Sheila approached with a smile, her cheeks flushed from dancing. “Son, you’re not leaving yet, are you?”

I dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Not yet. Need to let Emmett buy me one more beer first.”

She laid a hand on my arm. “You know, I have someone I need to introduce you to. She works for your sister, and she is absolutely darling. You’d love her.”

“Mom,” I warned. “No more. Greer’s already tried to set me up with every unmarried woman she knows. She brought three women over to my table before I’d had a single bite of dinner.”

“It’s just an introduction.”

I gave Sheila a long look. “Is it?”

She got that stubborn glint in her eye that made my stomach twist uncomfortably. Because it meant I was fighting a losing battle. “Her name is Kenzie. She’s just your type.”

“I’m sure Kenzie is lovely?—”

“She’s right over there.” She gripped my arm. The kind of mom death grip that scared the absolute shit out of me. It didn’t matter that I faced down linebackers every day during the regular season, they had nothing on Sheila Wilder when she was on a mission trying to pawn off her last single child while in the throes of an emotional wedding high. “Parker, just come say hi.”

“I can’t.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

It was time to lie. Time to lie to this sweet woman who I loved to the ends of the earth. “Because I’m getting her a drink.”

“Who?”

A quick sweep of the bar showed me approximately three options, and holy hell, if Kenzie was one of them, there’d be no escaping. But the woman I saw directly in front of me had blond hair and a long, lean body encased in a glittering gold dress wrapped around her curves.

That one. A flicker of interest caught fire somewhere under my ribs.

“In the gold,” I said, eyes on her for a long beat. When I finally dragged my gaze back to Sheila, she watched me with interest.

“That’s Emmett’s cousin, Anya.”

Of course she knew who it was. “And?”

“She’s beautiful,” she answered smoothly. “Very beautiful.”

“The genes in Emmett’s family cannot be denied. Have you seen his jawline? No wonder Adaline fell in love.”

“She’s also engaged,” Sheila answered dryly.

Through the quick pulse of disappointment, I decided to lie again.

“I’m aware. Even engaged people need drinks.” Slowly, I pulled away from her death grip. “And maybe we just want to bitch about Emmett and how perfect he is.”

Her eyebrow quirk roughly translated to: we both know you’re full of shit, but I’m not sure I have the energy to fight you . I gave her a slight grin and slowly nudged her back toward the dance floor.

“Look at the beautiful bride, Mom. Adaline needs her mom. She’s dancing all alone.”

With a hundred other people around her.

Sheila was too classy to roll her eyes, but the intention was there without her moving a single muscle. Then she crossed her arms, planted her feet where she stood, and called my fucking bluff.

I set my jaw and turned, muttering under my breath about the nosy women in my life.

“I heard that,” she called out.

“Meant you to,” I called back.

Anya—the engaged cousin to my new brother-in-law/best friend—hadn’t moved, and as I approached, I took a brief survey of my options.

Lying was out. So was feigning ignorance about the presence of the giant rock on her hand.

Truth, it seemed, was the only way I’d get out of this without Sheila dragging my ass across the reception hall to meet Kenzie. The last thing I wanted, the absolute last thing, was a girl with stars in her eyes hoping to meet her Prince Charming at the wedding of the century.

I was no one’s Prince, that was for damn sure. Not anymore.

Someone left the bar, opening up a space next to Anya, so I slid in, angling in her direction. She turned with a polite smile on her face. “Excuse me,” she said, then went to move.

I laid a hand on her upper arm. “Oh no, I need you to stay right where you are. It’s a matter of life and death.”

Her body stilled, and I got my first look at her face when she turned fully.

My throat went dry, a foreign twist low in my belly as I registered the shocking blue of her eyes.

She quirked an eyebrow. “My goodness, and I’ve always been told women are the dramatic ones. What on earth could be life and death at a wedding reception, Parker Wilder?”

One point to Anya.

“All right, so you know who I am.”

She sighed like she was terribly put out, but there was a glint in her eye that I quite liked. “It’s like walking through the NFL awards at this reception. Kinda hard not to recognize you, even if I wasn’t related to Emmett.”

I’d lost my tux jacket somewhere back by the table, and I busied myself plucking at the buttons around my wrist, rolling my sleeves up because all the dancing and pervasive feelings of love and joy and merriment made it really fucking warm in the room. Anya’s blue, blue eyes watched my movements carefully.

“Lord, are you undressing at the bar? Careful where you expose those forearms, a weaker woman might be tempted.”

“I’m going to assume you’re not a weak woman.”

“Unfortunately for you, I’m not.”

I laughed. “Maybe I could sense that. Maybe that’s why I picked you.”

“Ahh yes. Life and death.” She glanced around, her golden curls spilling over her shoulder as she leaned in. “I seem to be missing some important situational cues.”

Something about that proximity, though there was a safe amount of distance between us, made my heart hammer loudly. For a split second, just one, I felt like my old self again. Felt like the dark cloud hanging over me for so long decided to take itself on a long overdue break.

God, it felt good.

I recovered quickly, dipping my head to speak closer to her ear. “The most dangerous thing of all,” I told her. Too close. We were probably too close because I could smell her now, but Anya didn’t move. “A meddling mother, trying to pawn off her last single child to whoever will take him.”

She pulled back with a pointed clearing of her throat, then held up her left hand, flashing the ring in my direction. “No one should be meddling you in my direction. A wasted endeavor if there ever was one.”

“I told her I was getting you a drink because even engaged women need refreshment.” I smiled.

Anya was unimpressed, and I found that I liked that too. “I can see why she’d be a danger to you.”

“I love it when someone tells me I’m right. Say it again.”

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. “A wedding is the most dangerous place of all for someone like you. Dangling a raw steak in front of some ravenous sharks, huh?”

“I’m the steak in this situation, I take it?”

“Naturally. Who wouldn’t want to bag their own offensive player of the year?” Her gaze tracked over me pointedly, a smile widening on her beautiful face. “And now you’ve gone and flashed some forearm. Dear God, you’re practically begging for it. Better be careful out there, Parker.”

“Making fun of a guy for not wanting to give someone false hope. I see how you operate.”

Anya laughed. “I agree. There does seem to be something in the air at this wedding.”

There was a helpless desire to study her face. How hadn’t I met her before this? “Do you think they pumped drugs through the ventilation system?”

She hummed, tapping her nails on the lacquered surface of the bar. “Unlikely. If they did, I should probably be careful too.”

“Nah, I’m completely harmless.”

She snorted. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

I laid a hand on my chest and adopted a wounded expression. “Because you don’t know me. We should change that.”

Anya arched an eyebrow. “Did you miss the part where I said I’m engaged?”

“As friends,” I answered easily. “I’m a friendly guy.”

“Clearly.”

Her dry answer had me grinning. The bartender gave me a questioning look. I held up my empty beer bottle and tilted my head toward Anya. “And whatever she’s having.”

Anya crossed her arms, leaning a hip against the bar as she looked up at me like she was trying to figure me out.

“You’re tall,” I told her.

She whistled. “An observant football player. There are so few of you.”

I laughed, accepting the beer from the bartender. Anya took her champagne, the diamond on her hand sparkling under the lights. I decided not to ask where the future mister was. Emmett had told me his cousin got engaged to one of his teammates, but I hadn’t paid much attention.

I paid attention now. For the first time in months, I felt like the old Parker. The one who didn’t walk around with a grenade inside him—pin pulled, just waiting to go off again. Even if she was engaged and nothing would come from it, there was a sort of relief simply standing here with her, and I wasn’t quite ready to let that go yet.

Carefully, I glanced over my shoulder, and Sheila was still standing where I’d left her but was now in the middle of a conversation with Emmett’s mom, Paige. Her eyes locked on mine, and she smiled innocently.

I raised my hand in a wave, turning back toward Anya, who was watching me with a curious expression.

“Why me?”

Good fucking question. Instead of answering, I took a slow sip of my beer, then set the bottle down with a click. Honesty was the only way to go, and I had a feeling she’d know if I was lying anyway. “They all want to introduce me to some perfect, amazing, just-my-type woman. I don’t want to meet any of them.”

“A pro football player afraid of commitment. How very surprising,” she said with a small tilt of her head.

I grinned. “Isn’t that better than leading someone on?”

“I suppose.” She arched an eyebrow. “So I’m your shield?”

“Of a sort.” Anya hummed, and I found my eyes lingering on her mouth before I tore my gaze away. “How have we not met yet?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “I didn’t travel to see him play much when the two of you were in Ft. Lauderdale together. And I certainly don’t know everyone Emmett’s played with.”

“Aren’t you engaged to one of his teammates?” I asked.

She laughed, and damn if I didn’t like the way it sounded. “Yeah, I am.”

But as I looked down at her hand where she held the delicate crystal champagne flute, the sight of that ring had me straightening. “And where is he?” I asked.

Anya sighed, glancing somewhere on the opposite side of the room. “Not sure exactly.”

Maybe it was the color of her eyes or the way we stood leaning toward each other at that bar. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she was safe with that rock on her hand. Whatever it was, I followed the reckless impulse to say something , to acknowledge that flicker of interest I hadn’t felt in months, something else I thought had died. “If I was here with you while you’re wearing that dress, you could be damn sure I wouldn’t leave your side.”

If it hadn’t been for the flush creeping across her cheekbones, I might not have been able to tell she was affected. It took her a few moments to answer, her eyes locked on mine. “Does that line ever work for you?” she asked lightly.

I held her gaze. “It’s not a line. It’s a fact.”

Anya looked away, then swallowed. “I think you’re safe now,” she said, glancing meaningfully over my shoulder. Sheila had disappeared.

“I guess that means you are too.”

She exhaled a short laugh. “I was always safe from you, hotshot.”

Anya’s shoulder brushed my arm as she walked away, and I let out a slow breath as the persistent ache returned in her absence.