Page 3 of His Secret Wish

“What?” He knew it was a dumb question, but he was having a hard time wrapping his head around all of this.

She sighed, one of those exasperated ones he was intimately acquainted with. He’d been on the receiving end of thousands of them over the years. And he’d never admit it out loud, but he missed them—and a whole lot more. “You have to come to Truckee with me for the long weekend and pretend we’re still married.”

“Yeah, I got that part.”

She crossed her arms, and he had to look away. She was wearing a v-neck t-shirt, and the position put her cleavage on full display. He knew she wasn’t doing it on purpose, it wasn’t her style, but it still didn’t stop his body from reacting.

Clearing his throat, he looked back at her, keeping his gaze on her face. “What I don’t get is why you can’t just tell them the truth. That we’re no longer together.”

She tucked a lock of her dark hair behind her year. His fingers twitched to run through the silky strands. It had been so long. Instead, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Mostly to stop from touching her.

“It’s mostly my bisabuela. As you know, she’s very old-school, and extremely religious. In her eyes, there is no such thing as separation and divorce.”

He shrugged. “And that’s my problem how?” He knew he was being an asshole, but the hurt had won the battle going on inside him and was now running the show.

“She’s an old lady, Owen. I just want to make sure that what could very well be the last time I see her be a happy occasion.” She blew out a breath. “You, of all people, should understand that sentiment.”

It was like she punched him in the kidney. He sucked in a breath and tried not to flinch. “That’s not fair, Izzy.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” She reached for him across the fence. Part of him wanted to move forward, lean into the touch. But he couldn’t, mostly because it was a bad idea. Letting her touch him would wreck him.

He stepped back. There was a flash of hurt in her eyes that gutted him, and then she pulled back her hands and wrapped them around the fence again. “But I didn’t say it to hurt you. I mentioned it because you know I’m right. That this is the right thing to do.”

It was his turn to blow out a breath. The hurt inside him turned to a dull ache. The same dull ache he always got when he thought about his dad. And the terrible things Owen had said to him during their last argument, the last conversation they’d had before his father died. Izzy was the only one who knew about the fight, about the horrible things he’d said, mostly because she’d been there.

“Let me think on it, okay?” He tried to keep his voice even, not let her know he was more than halfway ready to agree to her ridiculous plan. With the exception of the divorce, he’d never been able to say no to her. And even now, after all this time, it seemed not much had changed.

She nodded, although she was chewing on her bottom lip in the most distracting way. His gaze was drawn to the way her teeth sunk into her flesh. It brought up way too many memories. He shook his head, trying to distract his gaze and dislodge his wayward thoughts. If this was going to happen, he was going to need to sideline all of that.

“I need to know what you decide as soon as possible. We need to leave no later than Friday morning.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans, mimicking his posture. He didn’t think she even realized she was doing it.

“You’re kidding me, cariño. It’s Wednesday.” He kept his gaze glued to her face, and not to the way her jeans highlighted her hips, or the curve of her ass.

She kept her chin tilted up at that obstinate angle that meant she was not backing down. “I know, and I’m sorry for such short notice, but I didn’t get a chance to come out here until today, and I didn’t want to ask you over the phone.” Her cheeks went pink, which was one of the signs she was lying.

For a split second, he thought about calling her out, but at the last second, he swallowed back the accusation. At this point, it would probably only lead to a fight, and that was the last thing he wanted. “It’s fine.” He took another step back. “I’ve got to get back to work, but I’ll let you know as soon as possible what I decide.”

She nodded. “You’ve got my number?”

“I do.”

“Okay, then.” She rocked back on her heels, and he got the feeling she was reluctant to leave. Which was dumb because she was the one who’d walked away. From their marriage, and from him.

The silence between them stretched to uncomfortable levels, the kind that made his skin feel itchy and tight. It wasn’t always like this between them, at least not until toward the end of their marriage. At the beginning, they’d been able to talk about anything and everything. By the end, it had been nothing more than tense conversations and angry silences. And he’d had no idea how to fix any of it, no matter how badly he wanted to.

“Okay,” she said, stepping back. “I’ve got some stuff to take care of before Friday, and as you said, you need to get back to work.” He couldn’t be sure, but he thought there was a thread of annoyance in her voice when she said the word work. Which was weird. “But please, let me know what you decide soon.”

He nodded, unsure of what else to say.

Another beat of silence, and then she turned and walked away.

He let his gaze roam the length of her as she walked to the car. It was mostly instinct, although he had to admit, he liked the chance to look at her without her watching him.

Her petite frame was just as perfect as it had always been. Her small waist flared out to generous hips, which highlighted her spectacular ass. And the jeans she wore did nothing but enhance her assets.

He tore his gaze away and turned back to his horse. If he agreed to this plan of hers, he was going to need to get a grip on his wayward hormones. Their relationship was over, no matter how much he didn’t want it to be, and he needed to keep that top of mind. He mounted his horse and headed back toward Sam and the rest of the guys.

“Hey,” Sam said, turning his horse toward Owen and pushing back the brim of his hat with one finger. “Everything okay?”