chapter 22

“So, what exactly are you after?” Mrs. Wilder asked, setting a generous tray of cookies, biscuits, and steaming coffee on the table before Nita Islas.

Nita’s hands trembled slightly, and she wiped her clammy palms against her pants. There was no logical reason for her nerves, yet her leg bounced with a subtle, unstoppable shake.

“Well…” Nita faltered, searching for words. How could she explain? Her history with men was a tangled mess, barely worth mentioning. What did she want? More than she’d ever experienced—maybe more than she ever would. Still, she was determined to try.

“Come on, dear,” Mrs. Wilder urged, clucking her tongue and waving a hand impatiently.

This wasn’t a therapy session, and if it were, they’d need far more than a few hours and a tray of sweets. A gallon of vodka might be a better start. Nita wasn’t scarred from some dramatic past romance—that would’ve been an easier explanation. Physical closeness? She could handle that. Emotions, though? That was a different beast.

Mrs. Wilder settled into the chair across from her, notepad in hand, tucking her feet beneath her flowing eyelet peasant skirt. “I mentioned I have someone in mind for you, but I need more details about what you’re seeking.”

A dull ache pulsed at the base of Nita’s skull. Perfect timing for a migraine, sparked by her longing for a man now that her cousin Tally had found love. Watching Tally with her two partners left Nita feeling achingly alone most days.

“It’s not that simple,” Nita said, her voice heavy. It truly wasn’t. Shyness had defined her youth, and by the time she’d accepted her curves and reached adulthood, she’d given up on romance. Instead, she’d embraced her sexuality, which was fine but left her without any deep, meaningful connections with men—except for her high school best friend, who didn’t count.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” Mrs. Wilder said. “Are you looking for a fling? Two men? Marriage, kids, a white picket fence? Or maybe a man to tie you up and do wicked things?”

“Mrs. Wilder!” Nita gasped, caught off guard. She’d been lost in her thoughts and forgot how blunt Mrs. Wilder could be. Tally had warned her about the woman’s unconventional style, but this was next-level.

“I don’t have all day, you know. Beauty sleep calls,” Mrs. Wilder said with a playful smirk. Her sleek bob and flawless makeup made her look stunning for her age, whatever that was. She sipped her coffee, her eyes twinkling. “You seem like a woman who knows her mind.”

Nita paused, a wave of panic tightening her chest. She usually knew what she wanted, but articulating it was harder. Her best relationship with a man hadn’t even been romantic—it had been open, honest, trusting. Did that make her strange?

“I want a man who wants me for me,” Nita said, wincing as the words left her lips. A knot of unease twisted in her chest, squeezing her usual confidence. “Growing up, boys didn’t want me. Most girls avoided the ‘fat girl.’ When someone did pay attention, they usually wanted to mock me.”

Except for Ky. He’d never done that. Maybe she really did need therapy.

Mrs. Wilder’s smile faded, her eyes turning a sharp, icy blue. Her features tightened, and a low, almost animalistic sound escaped her. “Tell me someone put a stop to that.”

Nita nodded rapidly, like a bobblehead, unnerved by Mrs. Wilder’s intensity. “Yes, my mother was very involved at school. I had great teachers who looked out for me, and an old friend who lifted me up daily.”

“Good,” Mrs. Wilder said, exhaling deeply, her face softening back to normal.

“So, you see,” Nita continued, “I want a man who cares about who I am inside. Not just for sex, not for money—I don’t have any—or for whatever else he might want. I want to be desired for the woman I am. And, yes, I want to be wanted sexually too.”

Mrs. Wilder tilted her head, her soulful eyes studying Nita. “Darling, you’re a multifaceted woman—your beauty, your body, your wit, your career. Is there anything specific you want to prioritize?”

Nita sank back into the sofa, the leather creaking under her weight. “I want more than just sex. Don’t get me wrong, sex is great.”

Mrs. Wilder snorted, her eyes sparkling with mischief, a dimple appearing as she smirked. She looked even younger when she smiled. “Sex is incredible when it’s done right—especially with an alpha who can make your legs quiver.”

Nita choked on her cookie, chocolate crumbs spraying as she coughed. Grabbing a napkin, she cleared her throat. Mrs. Wilder was wild.

“Right, yes,” Nita mumbled, flustered. “I’m not saying I don’t want hot sex. I’d love some. It’s been a while since I’ve had anything good.”

Mrs. Wilder’s brows shot up, her blue eyes darkening to sapphire with a hint of confusion. “I thought you said you wanted more than sex?”

Nita groaned inwardly. Now she was confusing not just herself but Mrs. Wilder too. “I do. I want a connection that’s more than physical. I want that comfort of…”

“That?” Mrs. Wilder prompted, her gaze piercing.

How to put it into words? “That feeling of being meant for each other. No secrets, just openness. I want a real relationship, not a booty call.”

“Okay!” Mrs. Wilder exclaimed, scribbling in her leather notebook. “No booty calls for Nita.” She glanced up. “But you’ll want sex once you know he’s the right one, yes?”

“Um, yes,” Nita replied.

She thought of her last “boyfriend,” if she could even call him that. They’d meet up sporadically for dinner, drinks, and lackluster sex. He’d tried to close the emotional gap she’d kept between them, but eventually, he gave up. That’s how it always went. She needed someone who could draw out her trust and make her feel safe enough to lower her walls.

“So why is it so hard to find the right man?” Mrs. Wilder asked, tossing the question like a curveball.

Nita blinked. When Mrs. Wilder went for it, she didn’t hold back. “I don’t know.”

Mrs. Wilder rolled her eyes, her youthful, sassy demeanor reminding Nita of Tally. “Yes, you do,” she said, her tone sharper than Nita’s strictest high school teacher.

Talk about commanding. If Nita weren’t so hopeful about finding a decent guy, she wouldn’t be here discussing sex with a woman her mother’s age. “Fine,” she grumbled, crumbling her cookie into tiny bits. “It’s because I don’t let myself get too attached. And my past boyfriends said I’m… distant, whatever that means.”

“It means you need to let go of your baggage and open your heart,” Mrs. Wilder said bluntly. “Are you ready to take a chance on a good man? If not, you’ll never find what you want.”

Damn. The woman was right, and her smug smile knew it. She’d just pinpointed Nita’s biggest hurdle, and now it was up to her to overcome it.

“I can do it,” Nita said, determination stealing her voice, even if the effort felt daunting. She was done with meaningless flings. She craved love, connection, happiness and yes, marriage and babies too.

“Then I think my first choice for you is the right one,” Mrs. Wilder said, her grin widening.