S.O.S. Wiley

by LJ Vickery

  Her only hope was the possibility that Pietro hadn’t been able to reclaim the little puzzle box. Judging by the shouting she heard from above, she knew something wasn’t going right for her brother. She couldn’t imagine what it could be, now that he had her out of the way and enjoyed full access to her generous monthly stipend…and anything more when she signed papers. But what did she know? Maybe his drug deals were going awry. Or maybe the substances he abused were starting to take a toll on his already unstable mental balance.

  Mary readied for bed and knelt to say her prayers. She sent up the same one she’d fervently uttered for a week—a miracle to free her from her wretched isolation.

  She hoped God didn’t mind the repetition.

  Chapter Ten

  Do Indians celebrate Christmas?

  Wiley found himself Googling the question under the table during the morning meeting, which had been delayed because he had to drop off Solina. He knew he should pay attention, but he couldn’t get her off his mind.

  There are over twenty-five million Christians in India, he read. One of the largest Christian communities resides in Mumbai.

  Solina had mentioned being born in Mumbai. Did that mean she was Roman Catholic? His family practiced Catholicism and celebrated Christmas, along with the Winter Solstice. He scrolled a little farther, listening to Del with half an ear.

  Del had opened the morning meeting with the revelation they’d be closing down for the holidays next week, finishing a few small cases they’d started in the ensuing days. They’d pick up with renewed vigor after New Year’s Day, when the company would suddenly be swamped with requests for their services. Must have something to do with regrets and resolutions that a new year could bring, wondering where people from the past had gone.

  Wiley’s mind immediately went to whether he should go home to Oklahoma. If he did, should he bring Solina? It didn’t sound like she’d be headed to see her parents, even if she were Catholic and they celebrated. She probably hadn’t had any of the joy-filled Christmases Wiley remembered. For his family, even when there hadn’t been much money, Christmas was a major event revolving around friends, family and great food.

  After they all became older and independent, as many of his siblings as possible gathered at his parents’ home for the holidays. Although Wiley made it home as often as he could, he hadn’t returned for Christmas since basic training thirteen years previous―his scheduled leave never coinciding with the celebration―but it looked to be a possibility this year. His family would be thrilled.

  “Wiles,” Del interjected into his thoughts. “You want to share with us?”

  Shit. Busted. “Uh… No, boss. Just thinking about going home for Christmas.”

  “So you’re booking plane tickets under the table and ignoring my ass?”

  “Something like that,” he mumbled, then noticed Prez peering over his shoulder.

  “‘Christmas is widely celebrated in Mumbai,’” the asshole read, then grinned. “This isn’t about your family. This is about Solina.”

  “Solina?” Del appeared puzzled. At least Prez, the prick, hadn’t spilled the beans…until now.

  “Yeah, boss. She’s just someone I’ve met a couple times…”

  “Who just so happened to attend a private sleepover at his house last night,” Prez interjected, his grin turning into a huge smile.

  Wiley steamed, glaring at him, clenching his fists to keep from punching the asshole. Just wait until he filled Maygan in on Prez’s current behavior. He hoped his buddy found himself demoted to his uncomfortable couch for a week.

  “This is clearly Wiley’s business, Prez.” Del’s snarky eyebrow danced around, attempting to contain his curiosity.

  “But we still want to know,” Sarge piped up from across the table. “It’s gotten boring around here, Del. You’re too tired with a new baby to give us any good shit, and Prez is like a fucking old man these days.”

  “An old man who gets it every night, Sarge, which is more than you—”

  “Okay. Can it, you two,” Del barked. “Wiley will give us details if and when he wants.” Del and the guys all regarded him, expectantly.

  As if that didn’t just put his feet to the fire. He sighed and sat back. “Fine,” he groused. “Solina Dalat and I met at an auction a week ago, and I went back last night. Well, she has a shit car that I wasn’t about to let her drive in the snowstorm, so I took her back to my place where we had dinner and then went to sleep.” He glared around the table. “In…separate…rooms,” he qualified for his randy friends.

  Billboard snorted loudly. Although he was not one of Wiley’s long-term teammates, they’d been on enough jobs together that Billboard hadn’t missed the above-average number of women who slipped contact information to him. Wiley huffed. Could he help it if he had a pretty face?

  At least Del seemed satisfied. He nodded. “Okay. Now that we’ve heard Wiley’s poor excuse of an explanation, can we please concentrate? We have a fuckload of work to do and only four days in which to accomplish it so we can enjoy our downtime.”

  Wiley shut off his phone and popped it into his pocket, vowing to call Solina as soon as he managed to shake these guys. Luckily, he’d drawn a solo assignment today, so as soon as Del quit yapping, he’d be out of here.

  ****

  Solina stamped snow from her boots and leaned the shovel against the shop. When she got home, she quickly realized that driving down her long driveway wasn’t an option. She’d pulled her car as far to the side of the road as possible, then waded through the icy banks and opened her antique store, which sat only ten feet from the road. Luckily, she kept a shovel and salt in the small foyer. Half an hour later, she had cleared a path to her shop, along with a spot for her car and any intrepid customers who might arrive when she opened for business later.

  Step one, complete.

  She opened her car and grabbed her bag off the front seat, then began the sixty-meter trudge to her cottage.

  Foremost in her mind was Ostrich. She’d left her cat plenty of food and water, but this was the first time he’d been alone overnight. He might be scared. She’d make sure he got some loving, then she’d change into warmer clothes and start what would be several hours of snow removal.

  Her breath came fast and her cheeks felt rosy by the time she reached the front door. Fumbling for her key while kicking snow off her step, she saw her feisty cat in the window, tail twitching.

  “Don’t worry, Ossie,” she crooned. “Mama’s home.”

  Tromping inside, her eyes took a minute to adjust to the dim light, but Ostrich hadn’t waited. She saw his tail disappear into her bedroom. Clearly having ascertained she was still alive, he wasn’t about to fawn. She’d need to go to him. Not a problem, but it would have to wait.

  Solina slid the door to her hall closet open and plucked out her snowsuit and her large, insulated boots. Sloughing off her wet outerwear and donning the dry items, she headed for the kitchen to check the status of her cat’s food, added a couple handfuls, then went out the back door. In her new gear, she didn’t fear the snow or cold. She’d decked herself out to be impervious.

  It took a few minutes to pry open the small shed door, but after she made a crack big enough, she slipped inside. Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she grinned at the machine she had the foresight to purchase last summer—her bright red, thirteen-horsepower, track-driven snowblower with electric start. The man at the tractor supply store had said it was overkill, but she wanted something that would keep her from being helpless and calling for a plow every time flakes fell. Mission accomplished. She’d used it three times already, and couldn’t be more tickled. It was big, made a lot of noise and effortlessly cut through the largest of drifts. She couldn’t wait to see what it would do with the amount of snow that had just been dumped.

  Three hours later, the bloom had long since left her cheeks and she couldn’t feel her fingers, but satisfaction loomed as she walked her snowblower down the driveway and back to its
shed. It had done an admirable job, and although tired to the bone, Solina was full of pride. Once again, she’d proven she could take care of herself.

  Mindful of her investment, she cleaned the snow off the machine and tucked it back into its berth. She locked the shed and, with feet dragging, walked the plowed path to her back door. Time for a shower and some well-deserved lunch.

  Breakfast―a bagel and coffee at Dunkie’s with Wiley―seemed long past.

  She picked up her phone from the kitchen table. Speaking of Wiley… A smile came to her lips. He’d called three times. Stalk much? He’d have to wait a few minutes for an answer while she got herself warm and clean.

  ****

  After a satisfying amount of soap and hot water, Solina towel dried her hair, then dressed in sweats and padded back to her kitchen on bare feet. She pulled a garlic naan from a plastic bag and sat down, ready to call Wiley back. How about that? He’d rung again.

  She hit the call-back button and settled in, taking a hearty bite from the bread.

  “Solina? Are you all right?” he yelled into the phone.

  She choked on the piece of bread from the panic in his voice.

  “Beauty, tell me you’re okay,” he demanded.

  She coughed again to clear her esophagus. “I’m fine, Wiley. I’m fine.” Her brain engaged as she regained oxygen. “Why would you think otherwise?”

  “You didn’t answer your phone over a course of more than three hours.” His tone was terse.

  Well, pardon me. Solina screwed up her mouth. Wiley wasn’t going to be overly possessive, was he? That would be a deal breaker. She’d put up with far too much of that overbearing stuff in her youth.

  She shook her head. Easier to start out by giving him the benefit of the doubt. “I came home to a driveway that needed clearing and a shop under snow. I shoveled. I snowblowed. I showered. Now I’m going to eat,” she huffed. “Not that I should have to answer to you.” She ended with a sharp note of warning in her voice.

  A long silence met her admonishment. Eventually, he grunted. “I’m sorry, Beauty,” he apologized. “I just…”

  “You just what, Wiley?” Solina softened her tone.

  “It’s just that my job is search and rescue. We go on jobs every day where the client says, ‘I haven’t been able to get in touch with them for hours, and that’s not normal.’ So I worried.”

  Solina hadn’t pictured her incommunicado status as it would look in relation to his job. His attitude made more sense when put in that kind of context. “I understand,” she told him. “And I apologize. But, Wiley, there’s nothing in my life that’s dangerous. Nothing. Also, I’m often forgetful of my phone, so you need to get used to it.”

  She could almost hear him fussing on the other end of the line.

  “Okay,” he finally conceded. “But can you do something for me, even if it seems like I’m being a dick?”

  Solina laughed. “Pretty early on in whatever we’ve got going for me to decide whether you’re a dick or not, but I’ll give it a try.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll risk the title. If you promise to call me before you go to bed every night, I won’t bug you.”

  “That’s quite a commitment for two people who only met a week ago.” She worried the inside of her cheek, unsure whether to be flattered or concerned.

  “I know, but it will make me feel better. Have I not mentioned that I want to explore something with you, Solina?”

  “Yeah. I think you’ve made that perfectly clear. But haven’t you figured out that I like my independence? Once I got out from under my parents’ control, I vowed I’d never be under anyone’s thumb again.”

  “Funny,” he grunted. “I didn’t think of it as you being under my thumb. I see it as just the opposite. That you already have me so far under your thumb, I need to hear your voice to function properly.”

  “Oh.” What else could Solina say? She hadn’t thought an alpha male like Wiley would need anything but himself to survive.

  “Yeah. So… Am I forgiven?”

  “Yes, Wiley. You are.” Her heart opened up to him a little more. Her “sex-ploration” partner had upped his game. Could she remain strong enough to resist becoming involved beyond the physical?

  “Good, because you could have slipped on the ice, smothered in a snow drift, been asphyxiated by gas fumes. Any number of things. And I’m a natural-born worrier, so get used to it.”

  Solina thought about it for a second and realized what an awesome father he’d eventually be.

  Shit. Where had that thought come from? Don’t muddy the waters now, Solina, she scolded herself.

  She cleared her throat. “I can accept it, Wiley. Just don’t smother me, okay?”

  He heaved a relieved sigh. “I promise. So, once a day, we touch base before we go to sleep. Maybe twice if either one of us has good news to share…or we’re really in trouble.”

  Solina laughed. He couldn’t help himself, could he? “Fine. Now, which is it that had you calling four times? Do you have good news? Or are you in trouble?” she quipped cheekily, taking another bite of her naan.

  “Good news, actually.” Anticipation crackled over the line as Solina waited. “I got word from the boss this morning that we’re closing down for a week for the holidays. I wondered if you had anything planned or if you’d like to come to Oklahoma with me to celebrate and meet my family.” He said it all in one breath, as if needing to get it out quickly. Solina knew why. He’d just overstepped by being too protective. Now he might be crossing a line by inviting her to meet his parents too early.

  And it was too early.

  “Wiley, that’s very sweet of you,” Solina began, “but I already have plans.”

  She didn’t, but she also didn’t want to hurt him. She wanted to get to know him better before jaunting off into unknown parts of his life.

  “Oh.” She heard his enthusiasm dim. “No big deal. I just wondered. How about a date sometime this week before I leave then?” He quickly changed the subject, for which Solina was relieved.

  “I’d like that. You name the night.”

  “Tomorrow? I’ll pick you up at seven?”

  She had a moment’s hesitation about him coming to the house, but shook it off. If they were going to make something work between them, she had to allow him into her life.

  “Sure.” Before she could change her mind, she gave him the address. Did she imagine his relief?

  “Great. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you then.”

  “And, Solina? Don’t forget to call me tonight before bed.”

  She smiled. Jackass. “I will, Wiley. Talk to you later.” She hung up before he could coerce her into anything else.

  Finishing her bread, she reluctantly bundled up to head to the shop for the rest of the afternoon in case any brave customers had dug themselves out.

  The little puzzle box mocked her from the table where it sat.

  She’d spend some time on that tonight.

  Chapter Eleven

  Solina closed up shop a little early. Business had been slow all day, probably due to the snow coming down for the second time in three days. This storm didn’t look like it would drop more than a few inches, though, and even if it did, Solina wasn’t worried it would keep Wiley away. He had that enormous SUV…and a determination that would not be beaten down by some lowly, icy precipitation.

  What the weather did allow her to do was plan for an at-home meal. The way to a man’s heart―not that she wanted his heart―was through his stomach, right? They’d eat, cozy up in her little cottage, then the plans for her introduction to sex could commence.

  She’d been up early, not only to wash and change the sheets on her bed, but to agonize over how her home would appear to him. She’d attempted to pack up a few things and hide them, but had been unable to follow through. Still, the place didn’t look that bad. Surely the controlled number of trinkets displayed wouldn’t give away her deplorable secret. At least
not until she’d gotten what she wanted from him. It was her major worry at the moment, but she hoped he’d be so blown away by the wondrous smells of the food she’d be cooking, he wouldn’t notice much about his surroundings.

  Fingers crossed.

  She threw on her coat and boots and hurried down the long driveway. She had four hours to prepare her seduction meal.

  Plenty of time.

  ****

  At six forty-five, she had everything ready. Heady smells filled the small space, and she even found time to shower and slip into an elegant, low-cut, diaphanous gray blouse that revealed hints of the pretty black bra she wore beneath. That, along with tight, black leggings, gave her a feminine look she hoped he’d like. Wiley would never know she tried on at least five different combinations before deciding on this one. What he should notice, if he looked closer, was her lack of a panty line. She wore a thong that matched her bra. Men really liked thongs―or so she’d read―and as much as she normally ignored how she looked, she knew the smooth, dusky skin of her hips and ass looked pretty damned good framed by the silk.

  Now all she had to worry about was if her home would pass inspection.

  Before she could get lost inside her head again, a knock sounded at the door. She looked at the clock. Early. She should have figured. Wiley didn’t seem like the type of man to lose track of time. That meant everything he did―like showing up a little late at the auction two nights ago, or coming to her door fifteen minutes before the allotted time―was planned for maximum impact.

  She hadn’t had time to put on shoes, but Solina almost always went without them while in her house anyway. Even in winter. Her feet weren’t normally cold, and she thought her well-shaped toes and arches were among her best features. So why hide them? She’d added a couple toe rings tonight. Maybe Wiley would like that.