Ride Wild (Raven Riders 3)

In the living room, she found a box of figurines sitting on the floor next to a corner display cabinet. Kneeling, she unwrapped them one by one. Collectibles of the Disney princesses, villains, and a few dogs. It was Pluto that really got her. She stroked his funny little head and wished it was the hurt dog that she could be petting.

Were these sitting here waiting to be displayed?

Cora took everything out of the cabinet and wiped it down, then dusted the shelves and rearranged to make space for the figurines all on one shelf. She removed the kids’ old school artwork, much of which had bent and faded from sitting propped up on the shelves for so long, and stacked all of it inside the cabinet, thinking she’d look for a keepsake box or scrapbook album to keep the art safe.

God, there was nothing like throwing herself into the mindless productivity of cleaning to make her feel better. At the very least, she felt like she’d accomplished something today.

Kneeling in front of the corner cabinet, she peered around the room and looked to see if she could tell the difference. The rooms were brighter. Surfaces gleamed. The air smelled lemony fresh. Yeah, she’d definitely made a difference.

The door opened behind her. “What are you doing?”

She turned to find Slider coming in, two pizza boxes in hand. He’d been out running errands most of the day, but she hadn’t expected the nice surprise of him bringing home dinner. Thank God he did, because she’d lost track of time.

“Oh, cleaning. And that smells good. Thanks for grabbing it.”

His brows cranked down. “You don’t have to do that.”

Cora got onto her feet and pushed stray waves from her messy bun behind her ears. “Of course I do. Nannies don’t just take care of kids.” She gestured at the room. “They take care of the house, too.”

He peered around like he was uncertain, or like a snake might jump out from under the couch, but finally nodded. “Well, it’s the nicest this old place has looked in a long damn time.” He did a double take, and Cora followed his gaze to the corner cabinet, and then that frown was back on his face.

“Oh, I found those figurines in a box beside the cabinet. I thought maybe they were there to be put out . . .” But now, seeing his reaction, Cora wanted to smack herself in the head. Of course they must have belonged to his wife. And she’d had absolutely no business touching them.

“It’s fine.” He took the pizza into the kitchen.

“Slider, I can put them away—”

“I said it’s fine,” he said, a gruffness to his voice that she hadn’t heard in so long. He huffed out a breath that came close to a growl, and agitated displeasure rolled off him in nearly physical waves.

Frozen in place, Cora didn’t know what to do. She just knew that somehow, she’d messed up. Big time. So much so that Slider wouldn’t look at her. After what they’d shared—even if they’d agreed it shouldn’t happen again—it left her feeling . . . adrift and unwanted. Burdensome, even. Feelings with deep roots in her past that could too easily reach out to the present.

The sound of the school bus pulling up saved her.

Slider’s shoulders fell. “Cora—”

“Boys are home,” she said, turning and making for the front door. Outside, she breathed in the fall spice on the air and waved as the kids ran off the bus and straight to her.

Like she belonged there.

But she didn’t, did she? Not really. God, she didn’t belong anywhere.

Back inside, the boys beelined for the pizza, and Cora headed for the steps.

“Aren’t you going to eat, Cora?” Ben called.

“I need to wash up,” she said. It wasn’t a lie. A day’s cleaning left her feeling grimy and sweaty. But she also wasn’t sure she wanted to sit across from Slider and see anger or distance on his face. Either would be too much for her to handle right now. Besides, quarter after four in the afternoon was a little early for her to eat.

So she indulged in a long shower, and the hot water revived her. Afterward, she towel-dried her hair, threw on some yoga pants and a long-sleeved shirt, and lingered around her room until hunger necessitated that she go downstairs. She couldn’t hide out forever, particularly as the sound of the TV playing in the family room indicated that someone remained downstairs.

Remembering that the curtains needed to go in the dryer, she headed to the laundry room and shifted the load over. And then she heard her name.

“Cora?”

Closing her eyes, she heaved a deep breath. And then she followed Slider’s voice until she found him sitting alone on the couch, but he didn’t look at all like he’d been relaxing. Instead, he sat forward, elbows braced on his knees, fingers laced together, head hanging low.