Wildest Dreams: A Small Town, Single Dad Romance (The Wilds of Montana Book 3)
Chapter 9

“So, what’s going on between you and Ryan?” My brother crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the railing of my parents’ back deck while we wait for the steaks to cook on the grill.

“Well, for the past week, not much,” I reply and shove my hair over my shoulder. “He’s been gone, you know.”

“Har har, you’re a riot. You know what I mean.”

I frown and bite my lip. The truth is, despite my hope that Ryan would be in contact with me often while he’s gone, I haven’t heard much from him. Between the huge time differences and the work that I assume he’s putting in, he must not have time.

“We’re dating.” I shrug and move to open the lid on the grill, but Mac stops me.

“Let it be,” he says without moving. “Don’t let all the hot air out. It won’t cook evenly. Come on, you can talk to me. It’s only a little weird that it’s my best friend since I was five and my baby sister.”

I wince and then sigh. “You saw us at the party last weekend.”

“And when Ryan and I brought gas to your car,” he replies.

“So, you don’t really need me to spell it out for you. We’re seeing each other.”

“I hope that it goes well because if he hurts you, or you hurt him, I’m gonna have to do something about it, and that’s just weird.”

“No one’s hurt.”

“Yet.” Mac sighs and shoves his hand through his hair. “Look, you’re both good people with strong work ethics, and I care about you both, but you’re my sister. Don’t make me take sides if it all falls apart.”

“I am an adult,” I remind him. “I don’t need you to swoop in and save me from anyone, even your best friend. I like him, Mac. We have chemistry and…I just like him. And for now, that’s good enough.”

“Okay.”

“I’m surprised you’re not trying to warn me off him. You probably know all about his sordid past, and maybe you don’t want him with your sister.”

Mac considers it, rubbing his hand over his mouth. “I don’t think Ry has a sordid past. He’s too business focused to fuck around with women.”

I raise an eyebrow, and Mac rolls his eyes.

“He’s no monk,” he admits. “He’s done his share of dating, but he’s not a snake, Poll. I don’t think he’s left a wake of broken hearts in his past. You’re fine. But he’s married to his businesses, and he works more than he does anything else.”

“Well, that’s something we have in common,” I reply. “His work ethic doesn’t scare me.”

“Where’s the food?” Dad asks as he steps outside. “Everything else is ready. How are the steaks?”

“I’d say they’re about done,” Mac replies, our earlier conversation obviously finished, much to my relief. I don’t mind talking about Ryan. I’ve been asked more times than I can count if there’s something going on between us, and I’ve been honest.

I don’t know any other way to be, and the man kissed me in front of his family, so I’m assuming that it’s no secret that we’re seeing each other.

But talking about it with my brother is…weird.

Usually, Mac threatens to kill a guy after we’re done dating.

“Come on, you guys,” Mom says, poking her head out the door. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

Once a month, Mac and I come over to the house we grew up in and have dinner with our parents. Although we were raised here, the house doesn’t look much like it did when we were young.

My mom loves to change things. There’s always a project in the works here, and she’s made no secret that it drives her nuts to go to my house and see the paint swatches on the walls with no progress made at all.

Mom and I couldn’t be more different.

But I love her to death.

“I have to go wash my hands,” I say as I walk through to the hall bathroom and then stop in my tracks. “Uh, Mom? Where did the bathroom go?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. I tore that out yesterday. It was time to update it.”

“Didn’t you just update it three years ago?” Mac asks.

“I painted it three years ago,” Mom counters. “But it hadn’t had a good overhaul since you kids were little. Polly, go use the bathroom off our bedroom.”

I hurry through the house, through the bedroom that I don’t even recognize, and wash my hands in the en suite, which is also newer and decorated like it belongs in a magazine.

Yep, the apple fell really far from the tree.

With a smile, I return to the kitchen and help set the last few things on the table before we sit down to eat.

“So,” Dad says as he passes me the twice-baked potatoes. “I hear you’re seeing Ryan Wild.”

My eyes lock with Mac’s across the table. He laughs. I sigh.

Here we go again.

I miss him.

I’m lying on my back, naked as the day I was born, staring up at the ceiling, sweating, and not for any fun reasons. It’s moments like these that I question my life choices of not having air conditioning installed in my house. Sure, the hottest part of the summer is short, but it makes for uncomfortable nights.

I have two fans pointed at me, and I’m still too warm.

And it doesn’t help at all that I can’t stop thinking about a certain billionaire who’s currently sitting in an office halfway across the world, probably in a power suit, buying Egypt or something. The vivid picture of it brings a grin to my lips.

I regret not inviting him to be my date at the IWC party earlier than I did. He probably would have still had to go on this trip, but I still wish I’d mentioned it. I won’t make him feel guilty about not being able to go with me because it’s just a party, and he has important things to do. There will be other opportunities to take him as my date. But man, I wish he was going with me.

Since talking about him all evening with my family, Ryan is even more front and center in my mind, and I admit, I miss the hell out of him. I know he’s important, and he’s busy, but I would give just about anything to hear his voice.

“Screw it,” I mutter and reach for my phone. I’ll call him. I’ll probably get his voicemail, but I don’t care. I tap the screen and hold the phone to my ear, and to my utter shock, he answers.

“Polly?”

“Hey,” I reply. “I’m sorry, you’re probably busy⁠—”

“Never too busy. Hold on one sec.” He pulls the phone away from his mouth, but I can still hear him. “I have to take this very important phone call. Everyone, take a break. I’ll be in my office.”

He’s walking. I hear a door shut, and then he’s back.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Ryan. This isn’t an emergency. I shouldn’t have pulled you out of a meeting.” Guilt sits heavy in my stomach. I interrupted something important just because I couldn’t sleep.

That’s ridiculous.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says with a sigh, and I hear him sit in a chair. “I needed the break and to hear your voice. But it has to be two in the morning there.”

“It is,” I admit. “I can’t sleep. It’s too hot in my house, and I’m uncomfortable, and because it’s the middle of the night here, and dark, I can admit that I miss you.”

“You can only admit that in the middle of the night?” I can hear the smile in his voice, and it makes me relax. Hell, everything about Ryan calms me down. I can already feel my muscles loosening, and I sink down into the mattress, getting cozy.

“Maybe.” I chuckle and fling my arm over my head.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he says.

“I’m lying in bed, no covers because, like I said, hot, staring at the ceiling.”

“What are you wearing, sweetheart?”

Fucking hell, I love it when his voice goes all deep and growly like that. “Not a damn thing.”

He sighs. “Is that what you always sleep in?”

“Yeah, actually. I guess we’ve never actually slept through the night together, have we?”

“That’s something I plan to rectify at my first opportunity.”

“How are you? Don’t get me wrong, the flirting is fun, but I want to know how you are, Ryan.”

There’s that sigh again, and it makes me frown.

“I’m doing just fine. Trying to get through this trip so I can get home, but everything’s okay. Don’t worry about me, babe.”

“You once told me that gifts are your love language; well, worrying about people is mine. It’s what I do.”

“Good to know. But you don’t need to, I promise. So, let’s go back to the fact that you’re naked.”

I chuckle into the phone. “Okay. What else do you want to know about that?”

“I want you to cup your breast and brush over your nipples with your fingertips.”

I do as he requests and can’t help but sigh as every nerve in my body sits up to pay attention. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“Mm-hmm.” I hear him shift in his chair.

“Did you just unzip your pants?”

“Probably.” I can’t help but laugh at that. “Drag your fingertips down your belly. Slowly, softly.”

“Goose bumps,” I whisper with a sigh. “Holy goose bumps, Batman.”

“Good. Are your legs spread yet?”

“Is your cock in your hand yet?”

“Way ahead of you.”

I bite my lip and let my hand drift farther south.

“Don’t touch your pussy,” he whispers into my ear. “Touch your thighs. Touch that sexy crease where your leg meets your center.”

“You know that makes me crazy.” I inhale sharply.

“That’s right. Now, just barely brush over your lips. Are you wet for me, Polly?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s affirmative.”

“I love your sassy fucking mouth.” His words make me squirm even more, and I long to push a finger inside of me, but I wait for his instructions. “And your clit? Is it hard?”

“Am I allowed to touch it?”

His breathing has gotten ragged, matching my own.

“You may, yes.”

I bite my lip and groan when my fingers skim over that tender flesh. “Yep. Good to go here. Damn, I wish you were here. It’s way more fun when you’re here in person.”

“Soon,” he promises. “Now, glide those fingers down through all that wetness and push a finger inside for me.”

“God damn, Ry.”

“Good girl.” His voice is a croon, making me all the crazier. “I want you to make yourself come for me.”

“Same.” I have to catch my breath and swallow hard, as my hand works between my thighs. “I want you to picture my mouth on you, working you over, and I want to hear you come.”

“Fucking hell,” he growls as my back bows, and I let the orgasm move through me, not quiet in the least, as my hips jerk with it.

I lie here, out of breath, listening to his labored breathing on the other end of the line.

“Where are you today?” I ask quietly.

“I don’t even know my own name right now,” he confesses, making me smile. “Tokyo.”

“What time is it there?”

“Five in the afternoon.”

“Wow.” I turn onto my side and pull the sheet up over my hips. “You’ll be leaving work soon, right?”

“In a few hours. We have some things to hammer out before we call it a night. I’ll have dinner brought in.”

“You’re a good boss.”

My eyes are heavy, so I close them, enjoying the way he sounds on the other end of the line.

“It takes one to know one,” he replies, making me smile softly. “Are you sleepy now?”

“Yeah. Sleepy. Miss you.”

“Mm-hmm.” I must doze, because then I hear him say, “God, I fucking miss you, too, babe.”

“Like it when you call me that.”

“Babe?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Good to know.”

I sigh, feeling myself falling asleep.

“Good night, Polly,” he says softly into my ear.

“’Night.”