S.O.S. Wiley

by LJ Vickery

  If she remained furious, he’d lose his mind. But he had an idea of something he could do that might bring himself back into her good graces.

  “So I’ll see you tonight at seven, Solina.” He purposely made it a statement. “I may have a surprise for you.”

  “Fine,” she answered…hanging up before he could reply.

  “Oh man, are you screwed.” Prez’s brows drew together. “Way to confront her like a caveman. ‘Are you engaged?’” he mimicked, infusing his voice with so much scorn that Wiley couldn’t help but wince.

  “I did sound like a dick, didn’t I?”

  “Yes,” chorused from around the room, but Del commiserated.

  “You can fix this, Wiley. I know you can,” his best buddy told him. “You’ve been in worse situations before.”

  Yeah, like pinned down in a firefight with insurgents, or shot in the ass while helping Del rescue Bri. However, facing a pissed-off woman felt a lot harder. Still, he had a plan.

  “I think I can grease the wheels if you let me borrow Sarge and Mizzay for a few minutes, uh, after I hit the head,” he told Del. His fucking guts were roiling again.

  Luckily, the guys chose not to tease him this time.

  “Sure. I think we’re finished here.” Del nodded and rose to his feet. “I’ll send Mizzay in on my way out. And, guys, if I don’t see you again until the New Year’s party at Prez’s, Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Del,” they all replied, getting to their feet and giving each other man-hugs, reiterating the sentiment around.

  Wiley trucked it to the bathroom, quickly relieving the evidence of his anxiety.

  After a few minutes, he reentered the room where Sarge still sat.

  Mizzay came in, holding her eWriter, and took a seat between them. “So, whadawegot?” She cut right to business.

  Wiley explained the problem in as few words as possible, then received a tongue-lashing from the spitfire receptionist.

  “How stupid wazzat, Mr. Prancingdeer? Don’t youz have any sistahs?”

  “Three,” Wiley admitted. “And they’d kick my ass if they knew.”

  Mizzay scribbled on her pad.

  “What are you doing?” Wiley asked.

  “Makin’ a note to tell ‘em, so they can ream youz a new one.”

  “What?” Wiley had no idea if she could track his sisters down, but he sure hoped not.

  “Nah. I’m messin’ with ya.” She popped her gum. “I’m orderin’ flowaz to be delivered. A huge fuckin’ bouquet, so it’s gonna cost ya.”

  “Spare no expense,” he told the wee genius, who seemed to break in and out of some really funky dialect at will.

  “Address?”

  She tapped away as he recited the information, then he pulled in a deep breath for his next request.

  If the flowers didn’t work, he sure hoped this would.

  Chapter Eighteen

  By the time six forty-five rolled around the next night, Solina had calmed down…somewhat. She had a busy day in the shop, so she’d stayed distracted. As furious as she remained with Wiley, she was doubly incensed at the latest manipulative attempt by her parents. Hadn’t they learned anything in the years since she’d liberated herself from them? Did they really believe an arranged engagement would make her happy? That putting her in the public spotlight would have her too embarrassed to back out?

  Clearly, they still don’t know me very well.

  First things first. As soon as she dumped Wiley tonight―a necessary step that would break her heart―Sai Basu deserved a call. He seemed like a man of principle. A little on the stuffy side for someone barely in his thirties, but honorable nonetheless. She couldn’t imagine he’d dreamed this up on his own. Solina was certain this had to be her parents’ doing, pretending they still held sway over her future. She wondered what Sai had been promised. It had to be something good.

  Sighing, Solina gazed at the flowers Wiley had sent. She left them in place as she grabbed the unsolved puzzle box she’d worked on during her few free moments during the day―as well as her ever-present go-bag―before locking up her shop. She huffed. Solina loved the name Wiley had given the comfort items with which she traveled. The jerk. She pretty much loved everything about him.

  Loved… Shit.

  Dammit. She’d gone and done it this time. And it had snuck up on her pretty damn fast.

  She’d fallen for Wiley.

  Sneaky bastard, she thought petulantly. How dare he creep under her normally reticent radar? The nerve of him, coming along to mess up what had finally become her organized life.

  But he had.

  And there wasn’t anything she could do about it. The plan to dump him this evening fizzled as quickly as it had been born.

  Solina groaned and kicked at snow, walking down her long driveway in the dark. She was mad…but she wasn’t at the same time. If she were being honest with herself, she couldn’t imagine moving forward without the big, over-protective, silly man in her life. If she booted him out, she’d not only miss the hell out of him, but she’d be sad and lonely again. And she was damn well over having those two emotions dominating her life.

  So what if he wasn’t perfect. A perfect human being didn’t exist. And if the brief flash of temper he’d displayed was the worst he could dish out, it was nothing she couldn’t handle.

  Headlights moved up behind her. Without looking, she knew it was Wiley.

  Early.

  Should she put that trait on the imperfect side of his equation, or think of it as a plus? Dammit. It’s a plus. She continued to kick at the snow, refusing to turn around.

  Solina heard his window roll down. “Hey, lady,” he called out. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous to walk in the middle of the road at night?”

  She grunted. Even though she loved him, she still wasn’t about to let him off the hook so easily. Solina raised her hand, pointedly drew off her glove, and raised her middle finger to him. Is that a chuckle I hear? A smile twitched at her lips, but she kept walking.

  “This is private property. Anyone who runs over me here will find himself in the clinker.”

  Now she definitely heard his snicker. “The clinker?” His raised voice filled with humor. “I’m not too sure about that, ma’am. ‘Round my parts, a clinker is a dried-up piece of old coal.”

  Solina enjoyed the banter. Too much. She spun to face the hulking SUV as it crept behind her, forcing it to stop. They needed to get their differences aired…immediately.

  “Okay, Wiley. Let’s cut the crap. I have one question for you. If you give the right answer, you can come in. If you give the wrong one, you can turn this big, manly vehicle right the heck around and get lost.” She shifted her feet nervously.

  He hesitated a moment, but his words came back strong. “I’ll take that challenge. Bring it on.”

  In for a dollar…

  “If this relationship continues, are you going to let your temper get the better of you every time something questionable arises? Are you going to treat me like a criminal and attempt to control my every move?” Solina waited, holding her breath. Somehow, she’d know if he answered truthfully.

  When his reply came, it sounded pained. “Beauty, there’s nothing I can do about my temper. I’m a bit of a hothead. That’s just what you’ll get with me. But I’ve never let my temper get physical in any way…at least toward anyone who wasn’t part of my job.” His voice strengthened. “And I would never, ever hit or abuse a woman.”

  So far, so honest. Solina crossed her fingers, anxiously awaiting the rest.

  “As for control issues?” He chuckled. “I have none. I make a perfect soldier, a perfect grunt. I take orders and don’t have any hidden agendas. Concerning you… I like and respect who you are. I’m amazed at the things you’ve overcome, and I would never impose demands on you. Did I make a mistake, assuming Sarge’s research was correct? Yeah, I did. And I’m a dickhead for that. But once you told me off, I backed down.”

  He had. H
e’d apologized almost immediately. She shivered in relief, but remained quiet, wondering how quickly she should forgive him as she shuffled down the driveway backwards.

  “Uh, Solina?” Wiley’s question dripped with trepidation. “Did I pass the test, or do I have to turn around my testosterone truck and go home.”

  Solina snorted. She couldn’t help it. He was damned funny. “No. I think you’ve wheedled your way back into my house,” she allowed before becoming serious again. “But, Wiley, you have to trust me. I’m not going to put myself out there if you can’t believe in me. Once I open up to you, I’ll only tell the truth.”

  “And I should already know that, judging by how much you’ve shared,” he admitted. “So… Do you want to ride the rest of the way?”

  “Nope. I’m good.”

  Solina turned and broke into a run. She needed the short jog to dissipate the leftover adrenaline floating in her system. She could now admit she’d been worried he’d answer wrong and she’d have to send him packing.

  But now that they’d solved that issue, she let her imagination fly. Other than the gorgeous bouquet of flowers that had been delivered earlier, was there another surprise up Wiley’s sleeve? Her heart beat a little faster. Sex, perhaps? A girl could dream.

  Puffs of breath streamed from her mouth and nose by the time she reached her doorstep. Before she got it under control, Wiley reached her side and planted a big, wet kiss on her cold lips.

  Solina laughed. “I hope no snot got involved with that lip-lock,” she teased. She could feel her nose running in the cold.

  Wiley grinned, his straight white teeth glistening in the glow from her porch light. “Guys aren’t afraid of a few boogers. We’re raised on them.”

  Solina took up the challenge. “So, it’s yes to boogers, no to puke. Yes to dogs, no to cats.” She ticked each off on her gloved fingers. “Anything else I need to know?”

  “Uh, yeah. And I hope it’s not a dealbreaker,” he replied, shaking his head with pretend concern.

  “Spill it, Wiley,” Solina demanded with an exaggerated furrow of her brow.

  “Yes to showers, no to baths.”

  “What?” Solina’s hand fluttered over her chest in mock horror. “I’m not sure I can invite you in then… Oh. Wait.” She snapped her fuzz-clad fingers. “I don’t have a tub, do I?”

  “Nope. You don’t.” Wiley smirked. “I checked while I was in there before, so I knew I was safe.”

  She laughed and opened the front door, stomping into the foyer with Wiley on her heels. She hoped he wasn’t too disappointed by the lack of good smells from her kitchen tonight. “So… I didn’t have time to cook today, and I’m really hungry,” she told him, placing her bag on the table beside the door. “Should we call for takeout?”

  “Hell no.” He shook his head, a dark curl dropping down across his brow. “We’re going for real food.”

  On impulse, Solina reached out and tugged on the errant lock.

  His eyes sparked. “Do that again and you won’t get fed.”

  She put her hands behind her back, seeing the disappointment on his face. “We can’t have that,” she teased. “I’m really hungry.”

  “Okay.” He swept the hair back from his forehead. “So, where should we go? What’s local and good?”

  Solina knew her face went blank. She’d never frequented restaurants, unless the local sub shop counted. “Umm, I have no clue.” She shrugged. “How about you check the phone book while I feed Ostrich.”

  Sure enough, her cat came out, but he didn’t walk up to her. He went straight to Wiley, the cat-phobe. He stepped sideways to get away from the critter’s dance around his legs. “Nobody uses phone books anymore, Beauty. Just give me a couple minutes and I’ll find something on my phone. What do you like? Italian? Thai?”

  “Mmm,” she contemplated, picking up the protesting feline. “I could really go for a big, juicy steak.”

  “A woman after my own heart,” Wiley declared. “One steak, coming up.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen to feed her buddy, while Wiley took care of the logistics. It didn’t take long to replenish the dry food dispenser, as well as the automatic waterer, before opening a small envelope of wet food. Although Ostrich had enough food and water for days with the large feeders, she liked to spoil him with a little gourmet meal every night.

  “You be good, sweetie,” she told the cat. He had already forgotten her in pursuit of his dinner. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “You know your cat doesn’t understand you, right?” Wiley asked from the doorway, holding his phone aloft.

  “Do your horses understand you?” she shot back.

  “Well, yeah.” The left corner of his mouth twitched. “But it’s not the same thing.”

  “Oh yes…” She poked him in the chest on the way by, “it is.”

  He conceded. Not because he believed it, but because he had a restaurant pulled up on his cell. “This place sounds pretty cool,” he suggested. “It’s in a century-old house, which comes complete with a ghost.”

  He turned the phone to her. Solina quickly perused the synopsis, liking what she read, then reached out to hit the menu tab. “Pretty expensive,” she decried. “Twenty-five dollars for a pork chop?”

  “You’re worth it,” Wiley answered. “And I’m trying to atone for my bad behavior earlier. What better way than hitting me in my wallet?”

  Solina couldn’t resist. She tipped her head up and kissed him on the underside of his chin. “Thank you for the beautiful flowers, by the way, but there are other ways to make it up to me besides delphinium and dinner.”

  “I know,” Wiley said, backing away and putting his phone into his pocket. “But we’re not doing that tonight.”

  “Spoil sport,” she chuffed. “Fine. Give me five minutes to put on something a little nicer, then we’ll head out.”

  It took Solina closer to ten to yank on a pretty blue dress and some thigh-high black leather boots. She also brushed some quick color across her cheekbones and brightened her lips with a glossy red. She decided to leave her hair loose, the blue-black strands crackling as she ran a brush through them.

  If the look on Wiley’s face was any indication, her efforts were worth it. Then she did something inherently girlie—twirled in front of him, giving him time to pick up his tongue from the floor.

  “You like?” she asked.

  “Oh, hell yeah.” He swallowed visibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Let’s get out of here before we can’t.”

  She turned to grab her coat, but not before she’d caught sight of him adjusting the front of his pants. Oh, she did like to flirt. She was sure sex would be better, but flirting would have to do for now.

  The restaurant was busy for a Thursday night prior to the holidays, but they got lucky. A reservation had just canceled, so they only had to wait fifteen minutes. The atmosphere was unique and cozy, especially in the bar, where they warmed up with a glass of wine before being shown to a table near a roaring fire.

  The waiter arrived, set down two menus and took their drink orders, then left them to peruse the choices.

  “Pork chop?” Wiley teased as he opened it up and studied the offerings.

  “Nope,” she answered. “Not a chance. Since you’re looking for absolution, I’m going for the filet mignon at thirty-three dollars.”

  “Good choice.” He nodded. “We’ll make it two.”

  Once they’d settled in and placed their orders, Wiley withdrew a sheaf of papers from the inside pocket of his coat. “We have two pieces of business to take care of before we can call the night our own,” he told her. “And you can pick what order you want them in. One involves these letters written in Pashto, and the other is the second half of my apology for being an ass today.”

  “The first half being the beautiful flowers you sent?” Solina questioned.

  He smiled. “Yup. I take it you liked them.”

  “They’re stunning. I can’t tell you ho
w many people came through the shop today and wanted to know the name of my new beau.” When he looked confused, she explained. “I’d say that ninety percent of my customers are regulars. These are people I’ve seen just about once a week since I opened. They’ve become like family.”

  “That’s nice. It’s good to know you have folks nearby who care.”

  “They are a special, unique bunch.” She smiled. “Although some are even more eccentric than me.”

  “You mean they have more than one cat?” he joked.

  She stuck out her tongue and reached for the papers, placing them face down on the table. “Ha-ha. I’d like business last. Unknown apology first,” she urged. “I love surprises.”

  He fidgeted and looked a little uncomfortable. “I hope you like it.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “And I hope you don’t think I’ve poked my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  Curiosity ate at Solina. “Spit it out.” God, this man could hedge when he became less than sure. Thank God that wasn’t often.

  “With the help of Mizzay at work, I drafted an article that completely refutes your engagement. And with Sarge’s computer, it got sent off to every news venue―broadcast or paper―that originally ran the story.”

  Solina, mouth open, could only stare at Wiley. What could she possibly say?

  “Talk to me, Beauty. Tell me you’re okay with this.”

  She sputtered. “Of course I’m okay with it, Wiley. I never would have been able to do that in a million years,” she marveled. “How is it possible?”

  “Because Sarge is a genius,” he returned, letting his shoulders relax now that he knew he wasn’t in trouble.

  “No. I mean, how is it possible that a guy as thoughtful as you exists?” Solina asked. It squeezed her chest in a mushy way. “I figured I’d be dealing with the backlash of that announcement for years.” She shook her head, amazed, before sitting upright. “Shit. Can I be rude and make one phone call?”

  “Sure.” He sat back, a curious look on his face.

  Luckily, Sai Basu had insisted she take his number, so there was no difficulty dialing him up. “Hello, Sai…” Solina began. When Wiley’s eyes narrowed, she wagged a finger at him.