Wild Heart

by Jaci J

  Zac said they weren’t serious when I asked him about their relationship three weeks ago. I was concerned things were left unsaid and unfinished between them the night of the wedding. He assured me they were nothing. He wasn’t worried about her, adamant that there was nothing to resolve. He found her sleeping with another man. What could there possibly be left unsaid? Apparently, he was wrong.

  I don’t know what to say to her. Something bitchy pops into my head, but something more neutral comes out.

  “Yep. Can I help you?” I want to tell her to lose Zac’s number, forget the few months you had him because he’s mine—always has been and always will be—but I don’t because I’m a classy fucking lady.

  She makes a noise that’s a cross between a scoff and a growl. “No. I need to talk to Zac.”

  “He’s busy. I’m sure I can help you.”

  “Listen. Zac and me have some unfinished business. I need to talk to him. Tell him to call me or I’ll just come over.” She hangs up before I can say something I might regret.

  “Bitch,” I mutter at the phone. I contemplate smashing it against the counter for a minute, but I hear footsteps on the porch that stop me from decimating it.

  “Baby, you that lonely in here? Talkin’ to the electronics?” Zac laughs from the doorway.

  I turn around to give him a look, but I’m stopped dead.

  My heart starts to trip over itself and my body instantly heats. Zac makes my knees weak and it’s un-fucking-fair. I work hard to look good. Zac just rolls out of bed that way. Wearing a dirty gray shirt and even dirtier jeans, he’s mouthwatering, and not in that normal way. He’s such a man and I love it.

  Crossing his large muscular arms over his chest, he lifts a sweat-covered brow at me.

  “You okay, baby?”

  “Yeah. I’m good.” Holding out his phone, I add, “You had a phone call.”

  Taking off his leather gloves, he shoves them into his back pocket and steps in closer to me.

  “Yeah? Who was it?”

  “Nadia.”

  “Again?” he grumbles, taking the phone from my outstretched hand. Glaring at it, he checks it before tossing it back on to the table.

  Again?

  This isn’t the first time the twit has called? What could she possibly want? I swear to God, if someone tries to get in between us I’m going to kill them. I will tear her damn head off her—

  “Emerson?” Zac questions cautiously.

  He walks up to me and stops. Putting a finger under my chin, he tips my head back, looking down at me. “Don’t start gettin’ all crazy.”

  “Crazy?” Did he just call me crazy? I start to open my mouth but he keeps talking, shutting me up.

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it. I meant don’t get all up in your head about her. She called once before and I told her I wasn’t interested in rehashing shit with her. It’s me and you.”

  It’s me and you.

  I love that. I don’t say it out loud, but I do. I fucking love it. But I’m still jealous. I want all that time I lost with him back.

  Staring up into his blue eyes, I’m reminded of a time I felt the way I’m feeling now. Murderous. Crazy. Jealous. I have a mean streak and there is no hiding it. It’s written all over my face and Zac can read me like a book. There was a time I broke a girls arm over Zac, all over being possessive and jealous.

  I tried to be nice, but Kelly’s pushing it.

  Drinking the rest of my punch, I crumple the paper cup in my hand and toss it into the garbage.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I roll my eyes.

  Wearing a pink tutu looking dress, I fight the urge to be extra mean by pointing out how stupid Kelly looks. My mama raised me right, so I keep my lips sealed. I don’t have anything nice to say so I don’t say anything at all.

  “Em, don’t bother. Zac doesn’t even look like he’s enjoying himself,” Row says softly. No, but Kelly does. She’s enjoying herself, looking over at me every so often to rub it in my face that she’s here with Zac and I’m not.

  I’m a nice girl, I remind myself. For the most part I just go with the flow as long as that flow is fun. It’s not fun anymore.

  “It looked like she tried to kiss him, Row.”

  Standing off to the far side of the gym, I watch Zac, my boyfriend, and that slut Kelly dance close. I don’t want to be that girl, but I can’t help it. I tried to be nice. Kelly’s dad had just died so I let her get away with asking Zac to the dance, even though she knew we were together. No one tells a grieving girl no. And I’m nice for Christ’s sake. But now I’m not feeling it.

  “Emmy-Lou!” Justin, my date for the evening, laughs at my misery. “You’re gettin’ crazy eyes.”

  Kelly leans into Zac and she buries her face in his neck, and I lose my patience.

  Bye-bye nice girl.

  I march my high heeled feet towards them, my pretty blue dress swishing angrily around me. Jerking my corsage off my wrist, I toss it to the ground on my way. Gathering my pretty curls into a heaping mess on the top of my head, I tie them up with the hair tie that was hidden under the ugly mess of flowers on my arm.

  It’s about to get ugly.

  “Em, just let it go,” Row pleads, following after me. I can’t. I’ve waited years for Zac to finally see me as more than just a friend, and I’ll be damned if some little emotional tart in a pink tutu’s gonna take him away from me.

  I make it across the gym in a blur. I grab her shoulder, pulling her away from Zac before I can even think about what’s happening. I slip on my beautiful dress before I can stop it, falling right into Kelly.

  It was accidently on purpose.

  Kelly catches herself, but she looks down and I see that her wrist bent all weird, and she instantly starts to wail.

  “Em!” Zac grabs my waist, keeping me from falling flat on my face. But it’s too late. Kelly is on the floor, screaming about me breaking her arm. Justin’s laughing his ass off, while Row shakes her head at the whole spectacle. Everyone else is watching me, looking at me with accusing eyes. I shoved Kelly down and broke her damn arm.

  It certainly wasn’t what I intended to do, but hey, don’t mess with me.

  “You’re givin’ me that look, Em.” Zac’s deep voice cuts through the memory.

  “What look?” I play innocent, but fail miserably. I know I look jealous.

  “You know the one.”

  It’s highly unfair. The man makes me jealous. It’s a foul shade of jealous too. But I’m not the only one. Zac’s just as crazy as I am when it comes to sharing me with anyone else. He just hides it a little better than I do.

  “Forget her,” he says, kissing me hard. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

  Damn straight.

  It’s not just Emerson’s heart that’s wild, it’s her moods, her jealousy, and her spirit. It’s been so many goddamn years, but I can still read her. She’s jealous.

  “Babe.”

  “Don’t babe me.”

  I can’t help but laugh. She’s throwing a fit and I hadn’t realized how much I actually missed her fits. The glare, the pursed lips, arms crossed and a cocked hip. That whole look means she’s looking to fight, but it also means makeup sex. I’m good with makeup sex.

  “Come on.” Taking her hand, I pull her towards the door. We’ve got plans.

  “Where are we going? What about my cookies and your phone call?”

  “Don’t worry about any of that shit. Just get in the truck.”

  Em doesn’t protest, but she also doesn’t follow easily. She stomps and pouts. It’s cute as fuck.

  ~~~~~~

  Feet on the dash and a pad of paper in hand, Emerson’s feverishly scribbling on her paper. She’s gnawing on the pens cap like she always did, and there’s random muttered lyrics thrown out every few minutes.

  Driving back down the side of the mountain, radio up and windows down, I smile over at my copilot, who’s turned out to be a terrible one. Her head is miles away.

&nb
sp; I’m headed up into the woods to grab a few batteries that need charging before the work week. Figured I’d take Em along before dinner tonight.

  “You okay over there?” I ask, grabbing for her pad of paper. I get a quick look but understand none of it. There’s just a jumbled mess of words all over the damn thing. “Making a hit list?”

  “Yes,” she snaps as she scribbles something down, her pen going a mile a fucking minute.

  Flipping on my blinker, I ask for confirmation. “Yes?” Thinking maybe I heard that wrong.

  “Yeah.” I didn’t.

  “It’s a song, and hopefully it’ll be a hit.” She’s writing her music and suddenly I’m the jealous one. Music took her away from me to begin with, but at the same damn time, I’m so proud of her for what she’s accomplished.

  “Yeah?” I say carefully. “A song for you?” Taking a deep breath, I hold it, waiting for her answer.

  “No.” Thank fuck. “They’re for someone else to sing. I’ve written three so far. I’m gonna send them to my management team and they’ll give them to the artists.”

  “When do you write?” This is only the second time I’ve seen her with her pad, writing.

  “When you’re asleep, or at work, or in the shower, or chopping shit down.”

  Lifting a brow, I glance over at her. “Hiding it from me?”

  She smiles happily. “Yep. I’m not the only one with a jealous heart.”

  She’s got me there.

  ~~~~~~

  “This is gonna be painful, isn’t it?”

  Emerson grabs my hand, laughing softly. “Probably.”

  Walking up the driveway hand in hand, I prepare myself for the questions I know we’re gonna get the second we step foot inside the house.

  When’s the wedding?

  How many kids are you going to have?

  Where’s the ring?

  “Zac, you’re gonna break my hand,” Em tells me, peeling my fingers from hers.

  “Sorry.”

  Looking over her shoulder, Em smiles, stopping at the front door. “Stop stressin’.”

  “Yeah.” Not possible.

  ~~~~~~

  If the cheek splitting smile on my mom’s face isn’t an indication of how happy she is that Emerson’s back in my life, then the thousand questions she pelts her with in the first forty seconds Emerson was inside the house was.

  Are you here for good?

  Are you moving in with Zac?

  I barely made it through the front door before we were assaulted. I know my mom is happy, but fuck. She’s giving me a headache already.

  “Help me in the kitchen,” my mom demands, pushing me towards the kitchen door, leaving Em in the front room with my dad. I go willingly, kissing Emerson on the cheek before following my mother.

  Leaning back against the counter, I cross my arms. “Yes?” I know I’m in here for questioning.

  “This isn’t some fling, is it?” She asks, jerking something out of the fridge. “Because I don’t know if I can handle that.” She levels me with that crippling mom look. “I was ready for grandkids about five years ago, Zac.”

  “Well, lucky for you, you have another son to help you out there.”

  “Justin is hopeless. I’m counting on you, Zac. I want six.”

  I laugh. God love my mom, but the woman is pushy. “I’ll get right on it.” I just got Emerson back. Babies are so damn far off I can’t even see them yet.

  “Don’t get smart with your mother.”

  Holding up my hands, I take a step back from the knife-wielding woman. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “You know I love that girl like a daughter, and I just want you both to be happy. Don’t let her go this time.”

  “I won’t.”

  She looks at me again, eyes narrowed.

  “I won’t. She’s here for good.”

  Dinner with the Moore’s is pretty much like dinner with my parents. They bicker, they pick, they laugh and it’s all done out of love. They’re one big happy family, and I’m so thankful I get a second chance to be a part of it.

  I’ve never felt more at home outside of my parents’ house than here at the Moore’s. They’ve always welcomed me and loved me like I was a part of their family. And I’m thankful that now, even after all the time, they still treat me just like they did ten years ago.

  Sunday’s always started the same with Julia in the kitchen, cooking up a storm. Zac’s dad and brother would hang out in the barn while me and Zac sat on the porch, all of us waiting to be called in for dinner. At some point, Zac’s aunt and uncle would show up, claiming they were just dropping in to say hi. His grandparents would end up making their way down the road too, and somehow my parents always ended up here as well. There might a few friends show up, and maybe even a neighbor or two. This Sunday is no different.

  Stuffed, I lean back in the patio chair and kick my feet up across Zac’s lap. His hand wraps around my thigh, his fingers rubbing soft circles on my skin.

  “Would anyone like dessert?” Julia hollers from the backdoor, a cake on a pretty glass stand in her hand.

  Zac nods and waves her over, but I groan, my hand on my aching stomach. “None for me. Thank you though.” If I eat anything else I will pop.

  “I’ll eat Em’s piece,” Justin pipes up, sitting down next to me in the empty seat.

  “Of course you will,” Julia mutters, shaking her head.

  Setting the cake down on the table, she slices up a few pieces and passes them out.

  Dessert is served and everyone sits around the beautiful wood patio table in the middle of Julia’s amazing flower garden. Strings of lights illuminate the flowers and soft music croons from the small radio near the barbeque.

  “How you feelin’ over there, babe?” Zac laughs, rubbing at my stomach.

  “I think I’m dyin’.”

  “No dyin’ on me.”

  I make a pretend choking sound, rolling my eyes into the back in my head. Zac just laughs at me and squeezes my hip, causing me jump damn near out of my seat.

  “Don’t do that shit.”

  “Don’t pretend to die on me then. If you’re gonna make pretend chokin’ noises, I’m gonna give you a real reason to make ’em.”

  “Zac,” I feign shock. “Don’t say things like that. You’ll make me blush.”

  “I’ve seen you blush twice in the twenty plus years I’ve known you.”

  “It’s been twenty years?” Jesus, has it really been that long?

  “Something like that.”

  “Do you remember the first family dinner you forced me to go to after we became a couple?” I ask him, smiling at the memory.

  I’ve been here a million times, but tonight feels like the first.

  Fidgeting, I smooth down my hair, pushing a curl out of my eyes. Resituating my dress, I pull on its strap.

  “Stop it, Em.” Zac knocks my hand away from my dress strap.

  Walking up the driveway, I wonder if his mom will look at me differently. What about his dad and brother? What will they think of me?

  “It’ll be okay, Emerson.” Zac’s voice is reassuring and calming, but my heart still trips all over itself.

  “But your mom saw you kiss me after school, and now I have to eat dinner with her. She’s gonna be mad at me.”

  Zac laughs, rolling his eyes. “She doesn’t care. She loves you.”

  He leaned in and kissed me the second his mom pulled up to the curb. I almost died when she rolled down the window and waved, looking directly at us.

  “Yeah, she loves me like a daughter who is kissing her son.”

  Zac stops walking and looks down at me, his nose wrinkled. “That’s fuckin’ gross. You’re not my sister.”

  I wave him off. “You know what I mean.”

  My stomach is in knots and my hands are sweaty. My heart is pounding in my chest as Zac pushes the front door open, holding it for me.

  “Come on. Stop stressin’.” Easy for him to say. This is his family.r />
  Walking in, I’m met with the familiar smells of home and a huge hug.

  “My future daughter-in-law,” Julia sings sweetly. Kissing my forehead, she pulls me towards the kitchen. “I’m so excited.”

  I’ve never felt more relieved in my life.

  “You scared this time around?”

  I snort. “Hell no. You’re mom loves me way more than you.”

  Zac chuckles. “Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth.”

  ~~~~~~

  “Dance with me,” Zac demands, holding out a big scarred and calloused hand to me.

  The butterflies take flight, but I narrow my eyes suspiciously. “Since when do you dance?” We’ve danced together a handful of times, and none of them were because it was his idea.

  “Since it’s fun to watch your drunk ass fall all over yourself, and me,” he says, smirking. “Plus, I owe you a few missed dances from over the years.”

  How can I turn that down?

  Fishing out the last piece of fruit from my sangria, I set my cup down and stand up, swaying. Oh, hell. Am I really that drunk?

  “My mom’s trying to liquor us up and marry us off,” Zac jokes when he catches me.

  “Apparently.”

  Pulling me close, he wraps one hand around my waist and the other grabs my hand. Some awfully corny country song plays on the little radio and Justin mutters around a laugh, “You two are gonna make me sick.”

  The soft grass sinks between my toes, and the wind blows my hair around me. The sun has gone down, the bright full moon replacing it.

  “Are we doin’ this right?” Zac asks me quietly, his lips close to my ear. Shivering, I lean into him and nod softly.

  “Of course.” There could never be anything wrong when I’m in Zac’s arms.

  Swaying from left to right, Zac holds me close.

  “I’ve missed you,” he says, looking down into my eyes.

  “Not as much as I missed you.”

  “You still love me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You gonna leave me again?”

  “Never.”

  “Good.” Leaning in, he kisses me, and everything between us falls away. Everything feels right. “ Love you, Em.”

  Woody’s is known for two things; its beer selection and its Friday night prime rib dinner, but now that Emerson’s back, it’ll be known for a third.