Deceitful Dreams

Chapter One

I grunt, feeling the ache ripple across my shoulders as I push and then drop to my knees with a pant. When I hired movers to take all my stuff across the country, I hadn’t realized the little bitches required all the boxes to be stacked in one room. At this point, I might as well have moved myself. Assholes.

Wiping the sweat gathering on my hairline, I use the cardboard to push myself to stand. One down, four more to go. Next time I’ll be more careful about how much shit I pack in each one, splurge those extra cents for the heavy duty.

A loud knock has my heart jumping in my chest and I glance at the time on my phone. If it’s the movers, they’re almost an hour early, but they can drag the boxes themselves if that”s the case.

I swing the door open with a scowl, and the words die in my throat as I gawk at the man before me. He’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever witnessed in real life, considering I feel half those Instagram models are fake. His chocolate brown hair sits in styled curls on top of his head, and his t-shirt and sweats are not hiding an inch of his tall, muscular body.

His bright blue eyes drag down my body before lifting to meet mine. Heat spreads in my cheeks and down my neck from knowing how much of a mess I must look like.

“Sophie?” he asks, and my panties could disintegrate at the deep rumble of it.

Licking my dry lips, I give a sharp nod. “Can I help you?”

He catches the movement on my mouth before clearing his throat and touching his chest. “Wyatt. Your mother told you I was coming.”

My first thought is to tell him he’s welcome to come anywhere, preferably in or on me. It takes another second to register what he said before a ringing in my ears has me blinking and taking a step back. My eyebrows knot in the middle. “M-my mother?”

Wyatt’s head tilts to the side, watching me with concern. “She said she called you last night. I flew out first thing this morning.”

Everything clicks into place, and I want to vomit. When my mother called me last night, she expressed that she and her husband felt it was too unsafe for me to drive alone. Therefore, my step-father had invited himself along for my road trip. I was apprehensive for two reasons. One, I didn’t even know she had gotten married. Two, I doubt my mother gives two shits about my safety, which means the ridiculous concern came from him. I went nearly twenty-two years without a father, and I wasn’t looking for one now. I declined her suggestion on the spot, and I thought that was that, but I guess not.

“I told her no,” I say, keeping my attention on the crease of his shirt right under his collar. I’m struggling to look him in the eye after I practically fucked him six ways to Sunday in my mind, not knowing who he was.

Wyatt sighs, shifting on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “I know, but if you were my daughter, I wouldn’t want you traveling alone.”

“But I’m not,” I say softly, glancing up at him. “I’m not your daughter.”

His cheeks turn a slight pink, and he gives me a sheepish smile. “I know, but I’m here now. I only bought a one-way ticket. Might as well put me to work.”

Leaning against the door silently, I give him enough room to come inside. He walks in, scanning my nearly empty apartment.

“The movers said they’ll be here in an hour. Can you bring the rest of the boxes from my bedroom while I take a shower? That would be the biggest help.”

Wyatt turns to me. “Anything you need, Sophie.”

I suppress the shiver that threatens to crawl over my body. What I need is for him to not be married to my mother because I would love to take him for a ride, but that isn’t possible. So I grab my duffle bag with my bathroom essentials and a few change of clothes and head to my ensuite to look more presentable.

By the time I take care of myself under the water and get dressed, I can hear other voices joined with Wyatt’s. I keep my bag tucked to my side as I walk out in the living room, my wet hair tied up into a bun on my head.

Wyatt glances at me and waves me over. “They are just finishing up and need your signature.”

A clipboard is shoved into my face as a short man with a gnarly black mustache stares at me with a pissed off expression. I glance at Wyatt, whose jaw is clenched at the man.

I grab it, sign, and before the pen has barely lifted from the paper it’s ripped from my hands and he storms out the door. My mouth drops open at his behavior, and Wyatt’s fists are clenched at his sides.

“What happened?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “They were going to leave because you weren’t at the door to confirm. I had to threaten a bit before they started loading the truck.”

The unwarranted attitude leaves me with an uneasy feeling, and I’m a little thankful Wyatt was here to deal with it. I’m not used to having someone else handle anything for me. I give him a small smile in thanks.

“You ready?” he asks.

I glance around my empty apartment and nod, hating the gratitude I’m feeling for my step-father. On the other hand, I can barely look at him without getting over-flustered with heat. He’s taller than me, an instant weakness of mine when it comes to men. But the deadly combo of dark hair and deep blue eyes has me wanting to combust on the spot. It’s unfair how hot he looks in a pair of sweats and t-shirt, while I lounge in my shorts and tank top and emit nowhere near the level of sexual prowess as him. I forgot that comfort was my number one priority when I stuffed the suitcases for my journey.

There is no way I can put up with this weird nervous electricity humming beneath my skin for a week, especially with him sitting beside me in a small, contained space. My red Jeep Grand Cherokee may have been a guilt gift from my mom at sixteen, but I love it. And the thought of Wyatt sitting in my driver’s seat, his hands touching my steering wheel and buttons on my dashboard makes me feel weirdly jealous, but I also curiously need to watch it happen.

A nudge of my shoulder breaks my thoughts and I look up at the taunting blue eyes that are going to be the star of all my wet dreams.

“You okay?” Wyatt asks.

Twisting my lips to the side and wrinkling my nose, I try to smile at him. “Yeah, I guess. It just feels weird. It’s been my home for the past four years and now I’m leaving.”

He nods, rubbing at his jaw. The white t-shirt he has on flexes under his biceps as well as lifts right above his sweatpants. They aren’t gray, but a solid black, and I’m thankful for that. Because if I get even a glimpse of his cock, I think I will faint on the spot.

“Yeah, but now it’s the start of your life as you know it. That’s exciting, right?”

I can’t withhold the grimace. The thought of starting my forever is so overwhelming that I’ve been putting it off. It’s gotten to the point where I’ve decided to not look for a job at allF because I’m not exactly sure what I want to do. “Sure.”

Wyatt doesn’t pry, instead moving to turn off the remaining lights in my apartment. “You got your bag, right? I don’t want to send the moving truck off without you checking.”

Glancing behind me, I look at my two suitcases and the duffle bag still on my shoulder. I packed more than a week’s worth of clothes and shoes. And then my daily essentials to look presentable. “Yup, just need to carry all that down to my car.”

“I got it. Do a slow walk-through of your apartment. Just in case, you don’t want to miss anything,” he says with a cheerful smile, grabbing my suitcases.

I grimace at his forced, fatherly advice. “Thanks,” I deadpan and leave him at the door. My annoyance is because there’s no way I could ever think of him as a father figure unless he wanted me on my knees and calling him Daddy.

***

“What made you want to drive it back? We could have had your car shipped if you wanted?” Wyatt asks.

We’ve been driving a little under an hour now. I turned on the radio immediately and rolled the window down so his scent didn’t fill up the cab. He is probably fed up with the awkward tension as I try to ignore him sitting next to me.

I push my sunglasses up to rest on my head, and I look at him. “Because I didn’t have the money to.”

His eyebrows crinkle. “Your mom and I could have paid for it.”

“Exactly, my mom and… you. Though I didn’t know you existed till last night,” I say, trying to withhold my contempt. It doesn’t surprise me that she got married and didn’t tell, or even invite me. I probably wasn’t even a thought in her mind that day.

Wyatt shakes his head, his knuckles whitening as he grips the steering wheel. “Believe me, I told your mom how fucked that was. We haven’t been together long, only a few months, but I would think her having a daughter would come up at least once.”

Rolling my eyes, I shove my sunglasses back on my face in case I have the random urge to tear up. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes talking about my mom hurts. I flash a fake smile. “And you just knew she was the one after a few months?”

His cheeks flush and he clears his throat, not looking away from the road. “Uhh.. no. Signing the marriage certificate was a kind of drunken mistake.” He shrugs. “Figured why not just see how it goes from there?”

“Romantic,” I bite out dryly. My mom has two modes: the tunnel-vision emotionless workaholic robot, or the irresponsible, wild drunk without a care in the world. Growing up, I preferred the former. It meant I knew where I would be every night. Alone in a big house left to fend for myself, rather than dragged to some party and left to fend off random strangers who only had good intentions half the time while engaging in a conversation with a child. It feels unfair that one of her whims would end with her wearing a ring from a man like him.

Wyatt turns the radio down further. “Look, kid. I know your mother is a little absent-minded, but she cares. When I expressed concern about you driving alone, she was stressed.”

I scoff, pointing a finger at him. “First of all, I’m not a kid. I’m twenty-two, so don’t be condescending. I don’t care how much older you are. Second, I’ve known my mother a lot longer than you. Let’s just leave it at that and call it a day, yeah?”

Leaning back into my seat, I exhale loudly to calm my sudden anger. I could have thrown his words back at him. ‘When he expressed concern’ as in my mother didn’t have care in the world about me solo-traveling.

He reaches over, and the warmth of his fingers patting my thigh makes me tense. He pulls his hand away quickly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re a kid. You’re just Mary’s kid and it slipped out.”

I pick at the frayed strings of my jean shorts, then I roll my shoulders. My lips pull up in a taunting smirk. “If we’re talking about age, you seem a little young for her.”

Wyatt chuckles. “Not that much younger. I’m thirty-four.”

That makes him six years younger than my mom. He”s right… considering it makes him twelve years older than me. I try not to cringe at the thought of a twelve-year-old Wyatt running around when I was born. I’m not sure what I expected a thirty-four-year-old man to look like, but if it’s anything like Wyatt… then hello daddy, are you looking for a sugar baby?

“And you’re ready to settle down?” I ask. A part of me is embarrassed to continue the conversation on this subject, but I just don’t get it. I want to marry someone I love, I want to be sure that’s the person I spend the rest of my life with. Things could happen down the line, but I want that confidence the day I say ‘I do’.

He sighs. “It’s… hard to explain, okay? I’m sure if we had gone about this properly, your mother would have involved you with the wedding preparation. But truthfully, there wasn’t much of a wedding. Just a trip to the courthouse, smelling like whiskey.”

I bite my lip, wanting to smile at the fact that he thinks I’m hurt I didn’t attend my mother’s wedding. I thought nothing of her sudden elopement. But I want to know why he was willing to marry her, like what was it about my mother that he said okay, let’s tie ourselves to each other? “Well at least it’s memorable.”

He grunts, effectively ending the conversation and turning the music back up.