I Wish You Were Mine (Oxford #2)(28)

“I don’t do hero worship,” Mollie said.

“Ugh, this is a mess. I should have known that all it would take is him doing that intense, genuine face he’s perfected.”

“That’s not—”

“It’s not your fault,” Madison interrupted. “I’m not mad, really.”

Mollie blinked. “What’s not my fault? And what would you even have to be mad about?”

“Okay, Mollie, none of this is why I’m calling.”

Mollie frowned. Uh-oh. She tensed, sensing she wasn’t going to like whatever her sister was gearing up for.

“I’m here! In New York.”

Mollie sat up straighter. “What?”

“Don’t get snippy about this. I’ve called you constantly—”

“I’m sorry. Work’s been crazy busy. And you couldn’t have just sent a text giving me a heads-up?”

“I should have. And I’m sorry. I just…I want to see you. I miss you.”

Mollie bit her lip. She missed her sister too. Sort of. “I don’t think I can get out early today, but—”

“It’s fine. I can just wait for you at home.”

Mollie’s eyebrows lifted. “Home. As in Jackson’s home?”

“It’s your home too now, sweetie.”

Mollie rubbed her forehead. “Oh my God. This is why you were suddenly okay with me moving in—so that you could just drop by and ambush him?”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, Maddie, but I don’t think he wants you in his house! He won’t even take your phone calls.”

“Well, he’s going to have to grow up at some point. Might as well be today. I just want to talk to him. Make peace. Move on.”

“If you’re so sure that he cheated on you, what the hell is there to even make peace with? Just accept that you two nearly destroyed each other and move on.” Let him move on.

Madison sighed as though Mollie were being the irrational one. “I told you, it’s complicated. We hurt each other, yes, but he loves me. Why do you think he’s still single?”

Because he’s jaded, thanks to you ditching him at his most vulnerable.

There was silence on the other end, and Mollie could practically hear the wheels in her sister’s head turning.

“Look, I just want one night,” Madison said. “I want to see you. And talk to him, yes. But mostly to see you. If you don’t want me to stick around, I won’t. We can meet in my hotel.”

“So you are staying in a hotel?” Mollie asked in relief.

“Yes, of course. The Plaza. But if you don’t want me to even see where my baby sister is living…”

Mollie refused to bite, and the silence stretched on for several moments. She glanced at her watch, refusing to give in. “I’ve got to get back. My lunch break’s over.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“I miss him,” Madison said in a small voice. “And I know he misses me too. I swear, you and I will leave for dinner before he has a chance to flip out. I just want to see him. And I know you don’t understand this, but he needs to see me too.”

Mollie blew out a long breath. God. “All right. Fine. Swing by around seven.”

And then, because split loyalties between Jackson Burke and her sister had always been Mollie’s problem, she sent Jackson a text.

If she knew her sister at all, she had just set Jackson up for an ambush. The least she could do was warn him.





Chapter 11


Of all the things Jackson was not prepared to see after a longer-than-usual day at the office, it was his ex-wife standing behind a stove.

His stove.

He froze in the process of pulling his computer case off his shoulder and blinked, waiting for the moment of déjà vu to pass.

Nope. It was definitely Madison, dressed in jeans and a simple blue sweater, stirring something that smelled amazing.

He watched as her hips moved in time with George Strait’s “Check Yes or No,” humming softly, her pitch just slightly off in that way he’d found so endearing at one time.

For a moment Jackson let himself go back in time. To remember how it had once been—this feeling of coming home. Country music playing, a warm kitchen, and knowing that someone you loved was there to soothe away all the pain of the day.

As though sensing a gaze on her, she turned slightly, and the warmth in her familiar blue eyes nearly took his breath away.

“Hi,” she breathed.

“Hi.”

They stared at each other for several moments.

He was only vaguely aware of soft footsteps behind him, then, “Hey, Mad, before I forget—Oh. Hi, Jackson.”

Jackson tore his gaze away from his ex-wife and looked at Mollie. Dressed in cropped black yoga pants and an off-the-shoulder gray sweatshirt, blond hair in a messy knot, she looked perfectly at home.

Probably because she was home.

The present came crashing down around him. He and Madison were divorced. She’d told the world that he’d had an affair—multiple affairs.

And Mollie had believed her.

All of the anger rushed back in as he met Mollie’s blue eyes, so like her sister’s and yet entirely, uniquely Mollie’s.