Wild Hearts (Forever Wild)

by Vernon, Magan

  He shook his head, a small laugh escaping his lips. “This is unbelievable. I can’t believe it. I thought you were a lot smarter than that.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh please, like you have any right to judge me. The hedge fund guy that’s secretly a chubby chaser.” I took a sip of my drink, my hands shaking as I picked up the mug. I didn’t think I’d actually have the courage to utter those words, but I needed to say something.

  “Chubby chaser?” Max raised his eyebrows.

  I sat my mug down, clanking a little too hard on the saucer. “Yeah, you know, you prance around with model types on the street, but want some curves between the sheets.”

  He laughed, a straight-up, all-out belly laugh. My eyes shifted around the restaurant, hoping no one was staring at us too hard. They probably would have been anyway if they heard the context of our conversation.

  “Think that’s funny, Max?” I asked and picked up my purse. “If you think it’s that funny, I can just go back to my office and you can go find a new fuck buddy.”

  He stopped laughing, placing his hand on mine before I could even try to stand. I looked at his hand on mine. His hands weren’t rough like Wes’s, but had a soft, cool touch to them.

  I looked up from his hand to meet his gaze. “Valerie, I don’t want you just as a fuck buddy and I don’t want you to leave.”

  “Um, what?” I blinked hard, shifting back in my seat.

  “We’ve been doing this ‘behind closed doors thing’ for so long that I never realized how much you meant to me until I saw you with that other guy.” His thumb trailed along the bridge of my knuckles and made goosebumps slink up my arm. I’d wanted him to say these words since the first day I walked into his office to talk about a social media campaign for his company. Now that he was saying them, I didn’t know if they were what I actually wanted to hear.

  “Do you plan on keeping up this marriage charade with the cowboy or are you going to let me take you to dinner tonight?” he asked, his dark eyes staring at me from underneath his long lashes.

  I cleared my throat, trying to gain a bit of composure before I spoke. “We have a meeting with a divorce lawyer today, so we’ll see what happens with that.”

  “Does this mean it’s a yes for dinner?” he asked expectantly, his thumb tracing a line down the edge of mine.

  “It means that I’m not going to cheat on my husband, but we can possibly talk afterward.”

  A Few Hours Later

  I couldn’t get my meeting with Max out of my head, no matter how hard I tried.

  I remembered the first time I met the suave businessman. The guy who made his first million at twenty-five and at thirty was approaching his first billion. But it wasn’t just the money, it was his whole presence. The way he stood in his office with his tailored suit and the smile that made him look like he owned the world. I was undressing the guy with my eyes the moment I saw him. It also didn’t take him too long to have me bent over his desk and me walking out of the meeting without any underwear on.

  But after six months of casual sex, it was getting old. I didn’t want to be needy and ask him for anything more, but I was ready to be done with it. Ready to just use my left hand when I really needed it instead of waiting for a text from him.

  Then Wes came into the picture.

  I was busy staring at an Excel spreadsheet, working on some release day stuff for an author, when an instant message popped up on my computer screen. I clicked off my spreadsheet and saw that it was a message from Abbi.

  You may want to get to the front desk. Wild Wes seems to be making quite the impression on Mrs. Flowers.

  Dammit. He was supposed to text me when he got to my office.

  I locked my computer and straightened my skirt before tossing my phone in my purse and walking as fast as my heels could carry me to the front desk.

  I heard Mrs. Flowers’ hyena-like cackle before I even got there. Shit, did he have to schmooze the receptionist? When I made my way to the desk, she was sitting there with her hand on her heart and a big smile on her face as Wes leaned over the desk. Even though I was mad at him, I couldn’t help but stop and admire the way his butt fit in his jeans and the way his black button-down shirt hugged his muscular frame. I had to shake the visions of him naked out of my head. I was never going to be able to leave the guy if I couldn’t stop fantasizing about him.

  “Valerie, you didn’t tell me you had such a nice young fellow,” Mrs. Flowers said with a gasp as she saw me approach.

  Wes turned slowly toward me and I thought my heart was about to leap right out of my chest. The guy was starting to give me butterflies and I’d have to kill the butterflies, fast.

  “Wesley,” I muttered. “I thought you were supposed to text me when you got here.”

  He smiled, leaning against the desk and crossing one leg over the other. “I did. I called, texted, what have you, and you didn’t answer any of them.”

  “No you didn’t.” I narrowed my eyes and pulled my phone out, scrolling through my messages. Two missed calls from Wes and three texts. How I didn’t hear them was beyond me. I really should have been paying better attention instead of making it so Wes had to come inside of the building. The less people who knew about him at work, the better.

  Wes’s hand reached for my phone, putting his fingers on mine and forcing me to meet his eyes. The butterflies were definitely back and they weren’t just in my stomach, but between my thighs. Part of me wanted to say screw the divorce lawyer and see where the relationship could take us. But I knew better. This wasn’t real. This clichéd marriage couldn’t last forever.

  “See something you need to apologize to me for?” he asked.

  I pulled my phone away. “Sorry,” I muttered.

  “How long have you two been together?” Mrs. Flowers butted in.

  I looked behind Wes to see that she was standing, her reading glasses perched on her head and her eyes wide. She was definitely the gossip of the office and the gossip just found out about my stripper husband.

  “Not long,” Wes said, turning toward her with a big smile and slathering on the southern charm. “But if you’re asking me out, ma’am, I’m going to have to decline.”

  She giggled like a girl, covering her mouth before she swatted the air as if telling him to stop. “Oh, dear heavens, you flatter me.” She cleared her throat. “Now where are you two off to? Do you work downtown too, Wes?”

  Shit. Why didn’t I check my phone? I had to come up with something and fast. “He’s a personal trainer. My former one, we were just going to grab lunch before he has to go to another session,” I blurted it out as fast as I could. He did have a great body and it sounded better than Vegas stripper.

  Wes took it all in stride, sliding his arm around my waist and pulled me closer, tightening his grip on my hip. “Yep, couldn’t resist my former client.”

  “Oh, well that would explain that great physique that you have.” Her eyes roamed over his body. I suddenly felt very protective. He may have only been temporarily mine and probably wouldn’t go for the woman who should have retired a few years ago, but that didn’t stop me from pulling him closer to me.

  “Are you taking any new clients? Or have a card I could take?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.

  It took everything I had not to roll my eyes. “I can definitely email you his info when we get back. We have reservations, babe.” I squeezed Wes’s side, causing him to wince. Good, he definitely got the hint. The lawyer was going to charge us four-hundred an hour and probably would do it even if we weren’t there, so I didn’t want to be late.

  “Okay, darlin’.” He squeezed me back, but it was more of a tickle and I had to try and keep from giggling. “Nice meeting you, Mrs. Flowers.” He nodded in her direction.

  “Please, call me Loretta,” she cooed.

  I pulled Wesley out the doors and into the elevator, which was already packed with people in suits, glued to their phone as if not staring at it would cause it to disappear.
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  “Well, she was nice,” Wes said once we got to our spot at the back of the elevator.

  “You think everyone is nice,” I grumbled.

  “Not true. Paige isn’t nice. She’s kind of a bitch.”

  A silver-haired woman in a pants suit glared at us and then quickly looked back at her phone.

  I sighed, rubbing my temples. Quickly, Wes’s arm was around me, pulling me against him. He was going to have to stop being so touchy feely with me because I was really starting to like it. I wasn’t use to public displays of affection and Wes didn’t seem to be ashamed of me one bit. “You seem tense, Val. We can always reschedule this if you need to.”

  “No, I’m fine,” I said, much sharper than I intended.

  His eyes met mine and he just stared at me like he was full of questions but didn’t want to ask them out loud. I wouldn’t have known the answers either. For the girl who didn’t usually have a boyfriend, I was sure getting a lot of love from the opposite sex. If only my high school self could see me now.

  “Okay,” he said with a slight nod. “Whatever you say.” He squeezed my shoulder and then kept his arm there as we walked out of the elevator.

  I took my phone out of my purse, using it as an excuse to pull away from him. As much as I couldn’t deny that I loved having his arm around me, it probably would have just raised more questions to any co-workers we’d run into. And to the divorce lawyer.

  “Okay, Layla said this guy’s office is on Wacker, so not too far from here. We should be able to walk it, no problem.” I typed the address into my phone and pulled up the route.

  As I was staring down at my phone, Wes grabbed my hand. I snapped my head over to look at where our fingers were intertwined, wondering if he was trying to get my attention. My eyes trailed up to his and he smiled, squeezing my hand. “Are you trying to hold my hand right now?”

  “Yeah, is that a problem?”

  I slowly pulled my hand away. It took everything I had to do it, and once it was released from his it felt empty. Like my hand wasn’t complete unless it was attached to his. “Probably not if we’re about to meet with a divorce lawyer.”

  “Oh.” His face fell. “You’re probably right.”

  The Goldman and Banks law office looked like just about every other structure in Chicago. It was located in a tall building with windows that went as far up as I could see without being blinded by the sun. It could have been a bank, or even a Jamba Juice for all I knew. The only thing that made it any different was the plaque on the door that read Goldman and Banks.

  “This is the place,” I said, taking a deep breath. My palms were starting to sweat. Why was I nervous? This was what I wanted. Wes specifically came to Chicago with me so we could get this divorce started. And yet something was changing. Something was making me want to forget all about the divorce and see where the marriage could go. But I pushed that crazy idea to the back of my head and opened the glass door.

  Inside a larger office building, like mine, that also housed a bank and a few other firms. The lobby was sleek white with two escalators in the middle and people milling around, minding their own business. I squinted at the bright light shining through windows directly on my face.

  I made my way to the directory between the escalators and scanned it quickly until I found the law firm. Second floor. I quickly looked behind me and saw that Wes was there, but not saying anything. His eyes were blank, like his mind was definitely somewhere else.

  “You all right?” I asked.

  He forced a small smile. “Right as rain.”

  “It’s on the second floor, so we’ll just take the escalator,” I said, trying not to sound like a complete idiot.

  “Then let’s head that way,” he said with a short nod.

  On the second floor and directly to our left was a glass door with windows facing a seating area. It looked more like a dentist office than a law office. Though, I admit, I hadn’t ever had to actually see a lawyer for anything before. Well, except Layla, but she dealt with corporate stuff.

  Wes opened the door for me and I stepped inside. The air instantly felt like it dropped ten degrees and I almost shivered. Maybe they were trying to go for the arctic look with the gray carpeting, gray waiting room chairs and black-and-white photos, but whatever they were doing, it wasn’t working for me.

  A young brunette who was probably the same age as my sister in college sat behind a large desk, staring at her computer like it was definitely more interesting than us. That was until her eyes found Wes. Suddenly the computer wasn’t so great and she cleared her throat, sitting up straighter and fluffing her red ponytail. “Hello, welcome to Goldman and Banks, do you have an appointment?” Her voice sounded like she had huffed a few containers of helium. She must have been someone’s daughter because I don’t think I’d hire anyone to be the front desk person with a voice like that.

  “Yes, we have an appointment with Art Goldman at twelve-thirty.”

  Her eyes didn’t even flit to mine; they were busy focusing on Wes. She barely even looked away from him as she typed into her computer. “Okay, I see that. Cockrell?”

  “Wilder and Cockrell,” I corrected.

  “Divorce?” She smiled with sudden interest. Real professional.

  “Maybe,” I said through gritted teeth. “But if you could just let your boss know that we’re here, I’d really appreciate it.”

  Her eyes narrowed for a second and then quickly went back to their normal wide-eyed expression, as if she forgot that she was at work. “I understand. I’ll send him a message letting him know that you’re here, but you can just take a seat for now if you’d like.”

  I knew she was probably checking out Wes’s ass as we walked away and something about it made me feel very possessive. I knew she was ready to swoop in on him. Hell, I knew our relationship wasn’t even real and he probably had the right to get with any woman he wanted, but I had a loyalty to him. I wasn’t a cheater. I watched what happened to my little sister when her ex-boyfriend cheated on her and when my dad left my mom. They both were devastated. I could never do that to another human being, even if it was a marriage by mistake.

  Wes and I sat down on a set of plush gray chairs underneath a black-and-white photo of the Chicago skyline. His knee shook slightly as he tapped his foot on the ground.

  “Are you nervous?” I asked.

  “No. I mean, yes.” He sighed. “Yeah, kinda.”

  “Why?” I was genuinely curious as to what his answer was. Was there something else that I would find about him? Did he have some secret fortune he’d think I’d want in the divorce proceedings?

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because I’ve never actually been to a lawyer before and don’t know what to expect. Divorce isn’t exactly something that people do every day.”

  “I guess they should put that on all Vegas wedding chapels. Disclaimer: this could end with you in a divorce attorney’s office a week later,” I said, putting my hands up like I was holding out a sign.

  Wes laughed. “I’m pretty sure there was some kind of legal thing about that when we were signing all that shit at the chapel, but I wasn’t really paying attention.”

  I shook my head, trying not to smile too hard but I couldn’t help it, just thinking about it made me laugh. “Yeah, the night is pretty hazy but I do remember you throwing the pen down and yelling ‘fuck this, I just wanna get hitched.’”

  An all-out grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I really did say that. What can I say? I was excited.”

  “And I think I was just a hot, drunk mess.”

  “Naw,” he said, drawing out the end of it. “I mean, you were kind of stumbling around, but you definitely weren’t a mess. You never are.” He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear and then left his fingers there, slowly tracing the line of my earlobe.

  At that moment I was ready to tell him to forget about the divorce. See if we could make things work. But before I could open my mouth, the door i
n front of us opened and a deep man’s voice called out to us, “Wilder and Cockrell?”

  I gasped and practically jumped out of my seat, as if I’d been caught doing something wrong. Maybe it was wrong to have feelings for my husband when I was in the middle of a divorce, I didn’t know. “That’s us,” I said, smoothing out my skirt.

  Art Goldman was an older black man. It was hard to tell his age, even with his receding hairline and crow’s feet. He could have been mid-fifties, but with his tall stature and tailored suit that fit him like a glove, he was definitely more in shape, like someone much younger.

  His eyes flitted to mine and then he looked over to my side where Wes stood next to me. He didn’t smile or frown, but kept his face neutral and nodded. “Come back to my office.”

  We followed him down a small hallway to an open door. The office was spacious and looked out onto the street below with a view all the way to the lake. While the entrance-way had a sterile feel, his office definitely looked like something I would expect a lawyer to have. There were mahogany bookshelves lining each side of the room, filled with large, leather-bound books. Directly in front of the window was a giant desk and two small leather chairs in front of it.

  “Have a seat,” Art said, pointing toward the two chairs as he situated himself in the big executive chair behind his desk.

  I took one chair and Wes sat in the other, his knee still jerking as he crossed his ankles and folded his hands on his lap. I’d never been in a situation that required a lawyer, but the guy acted like it was a death sentence.

  “Layla briefed me a bit on your situation and I did get that information you emailed me, Ms. Wilder,” he said, looking through a file on his desk before he set it down and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now let me get this straight: you two went to the courthouse in Vegas, got a marriage license, and went to a chapel for the ceremony. Then you were told that you couldn’t file for divorce in that county because neither of you were residents even though Mr. Cockrell is employed there?”