Wylde (Arizona Vengeance 7)

I do not like the sound of that. Don’t like one damn thing she just said, even as I recognize the truth in every single word.

“Confront your fears, Clarke,” Nora suggests softly. “I promise you, the greatness that awaits on the other side of it is well worth any discomfort you have to face to get there.”

“Does he hate me for pushing him away?” I ask, my voice barely registering as I’m so afraid of the answer.

“I don’t think Aaron has the capacity to do anything but love you,” she replies with a smile.

And just like that, hope springs eternal. Nora’s words seemingly make the difference between my pathetic depression that had mired me down into inaction to a new resolution within myself to reach for something with Aaron I believe could be amazing.

Popping off the stool, I look back at Veronica. “I changed my mind. You’re my best friend again. Can you watch the store while I go to Aaron’s?”

“Sure,” she replies brightly, clearly never having accepted my demotion.

“Aaron’s not at his place,” Nora cuts in.

I spin to face her, an eager pep in my step. “Where is he?”

“Um…” She hesitates slightly before admitting, “Los Angeles.”

I frown. “What’s he doing there?”

“He and Tacker went. Boy’s trip.”

“Boy’s trip?” That doesn’t seem like something they’d do. “Why?”

“Um…”

“Nora, what are they doing in Los Angeles?”

Her gaze cuts over to Veronica, then back to me. She seems sheepish. “Don’t make me reveal it.”

I jolt at the realization they’re doing something I might not like. There can be no other way to account for her clear unease now that the subject matter has been brought up.

“Is it a secret?” I ask neutrally. “Did Aaron ask you not to tell me?”

“No,” she drawls, tipping her head to the side. “But he also had no clue I’d come see you, so it’s not like it would be something he would think to tell me to keep quiet. I just know… he probably wouldn’t want me to tell you.”

“Are they out there seeking women?” I ask, knowing it sounds ridiculous.

Nora actually gasps, slightly outraged. “Of course not.”

“Then outside of that, I wouldn’t be mad about any reason they went out there.”

“Oh, you might be,” she mutters.

“Nora,” I wail, stretching my arms out in supplication. “Tell me.”

I can see the warring struggle in her expression as she considers her loyalty to Aaron, which comes through his best friend and her husband, Tacker, to me… a woman she barely knows.

Ultimately, her loyalty stays with Aaron. Lifting her chin, she says, “It’s not my place. You’re just going to have to ask him yourself.”

I stare mutely, knowing nothing I say will make a difference. She takes my silence as the perfect opportunity to escape. Grabbing her purse, she slings it over her shoulder and exclaims, “I really do have to run. Good talk.”

I nod, lost in thought over what Aaron could actually be doing in Los Angeles. The bells tinkle as Nora opens the door and looks back. “Are you mad?”

“Yes,” I say truthfully. But not overly so. I just want the truth, but I get why she won’t tell me.

“When you’re over it, can we go out to lunch sometime?” she asks hesitantly.

“Of course,” I reply without any real thought, which proves I can’t be all that mad.

She beams a gorgeous smile.

Mine isn’t so big, but it is grateful. “Thanks for the advice, Nora. I needed it.”

She nods. “Aaron and Tacker are taking the red-eye back tonight. I have it on good authority Aaron will be—along with the rest of the team—at a Cup party at Jim Steele’s house tomorrow night. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you there.”

That thought has merit. I could lay in ambush at Aaron’s place, but he could still be mad. Maybe not answer the door. It might be better to confront him in a public place.

How’s that for a girl who used to shun the limelight, but who will now use it to her advantage?

Nora starts for the door, but turns back once more. “One other thing… just promise me if I’m in your wedding party to Aaron, the dresses won’t be hideous.”

Laughing, I nod. “I promise.”CHAPTER 27WyldeI’ll have to say, it’s refreshing having a hockey party to celebrate the Cup win without having to fend off drunk fans or puck bunnies who don’t know how to take “no” for an answer.

Jim Steele’s Cup party is more teenager focused, given he has a thirteen-year-old daughter. It seems her entire rising eighth-grade class is here, a mixture of giggly girls and pimply-faced boys sprouting their first chin hairs who are trying to impress them.

It’s kind of cute, actually, and again, it’s more appealing than an adult party.

Of course, all the players and their significant others are here, so there’s plenty of frivolity and drinking. Just in an understated, more private kind of way.