Chapter 23 #2
I hop out, and he takes my hand, leading me up the porch.
I glance behind me.
"We don't have to worry about anyone seeing us. They all know," he reminds me.
"Oh. Yeah. Right." My gut flips.
He opens the door and motions for me to go inside.
I step into the warm, cozy house.
"Remember when we were here last time?" Wyatt asks, glancing around at the white beadboard walls, wood-burning stove, and tiny kitchen.
Memories of us sneaking into the guesthouse hit me. I smile, inhaling the cedar scent that always hangs in the air, and stare at the butterflies covering the main wall.
He shuts the door with a finality that echoes in my chest. He tosses his bag on the couch and closes the distance between us in two strides. He drags his molten gaze over me and runs his knuckles over my jaw.
I'm hit with another stab of fear.
What if he hurts me again?
I whisper, "This doesn't mean anything."
Amusement fills his expression. "You know that's a lie, sugar."
My anxiety mixes with the tingle in my core.
He murmurs, "Okay. If it doesn't mean anything, then why did you go to bat for me with your parents?"
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
He moves closer, and his chest touches mine. "I meant what I said, Willow. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not ever letting anything come between us again."
My heart races faster, and I take a deep breath.
He cups my face, stroking his thumb over my lips. "I'm going to need your cooperation."
"My cooperation?"
He nods. "Yeah."
"For what?" I raise my eyebrows.
He leans down and kisses behind my ear.
I shiver.
He murmurs in a low growl, each word a hot brand on my neck, "To help me with this." His mouth trails from my earlobe down to the sensitive spot where my pulse hammers in my neck.
I gasp. My hands fly to his shoulders, my nails digging into his hard muscles.
He walks me backward until I'm pressed against the wall, his thigh sliding between mine, parting them. His hips grind against me, slow and deliberate. His erection pushes into me, making my pussy ache.
His lips brush mine, his breath fanning over my mouth. He adds, "I'm going to spend my life trying to make up for every second we wasted." He kisses my jaw.
I whimper.
He pulls back just enough to keep me wanting, then drops his hands to my hips, squeezing possessively as he drags me closer. His voice turns darker, edged with a roughness that weakens my knees. "I guess I need to remind you again who this body belongs to."
A knocking sound slams into the silence. The door bursts open. Jagger storms in, eyes wild. "Why are you still on the ranch?" he bellows.
"Jagger, stop!" I demand.
Wyatt straightens, shifting between me and my brother like he's ready to take a bullet for me. "I'm not leaving. Not unless Willow's coming with me."
"Dad told you to go," he snarls.
"Jagger, enough! He's staying!" I shout.
His gaze darts to me. "You've got to be kidding me!"
I lift my chin. "I'm not!"
Jagger points at me. "Go home, Willow."
"Don't tell me what to do," I snap back.
"Houston and I have some unfinished business, don't we?" he seethes.
"Jagger, go away!" I order.
"No. He's right. Take my truck to the house. I'll call you later," Wyatt says calmly, locking eyes with me.
"What?"
"Go on."
"Why? So you two can kill each other?" I ask in horror.
"He dug his own grave," Jagger mutters.
"Jagger, stop it! Wyatt's your best friend!" I remind him.
He grunts, nostrils flaring. It reminds me of a bull before a rider tries to mount him. "He should have thought about that before he took advantage of you behind my back!"
I step in front of Wyatt. "He didn't take advantage of me."
"Of course he did," Jagger insists.
Wyatt demands, "Willow, go to the main house."
I glance up at him. "You're already bloody and swollen. I'm not going to let him beat you up anymore."
"Who said I'm letting him beat me up? He already got his freebie punches in," Wyatt claims.
I'm horrified at this situation. "So you're both going to be bloody, bruised, and broken?"
"No. Just Wyatt," Jagger states.
I snap my head toward my brother. "Stop it! You're being childish."
Jagger points at me, his eyes blazing, roaring, "You're my little sister. He's supposed to be my best friend. There are consequences."
"We've already paid for our mistakes," I blurt out, my anger rebuilding, but this time only at my brother.
He scoffs, then shakes his head.
Tense silence fills the air for several long seconds.
Wyatt's low tone sends a chill through me when he says, "Willow, please leave."
I look up at him again. "This isn't all your fault. I lied and snuck around too. You weren't in a relationship all by yourself."
Wyatt's lips twitch. "No. But Jagger and I have to talk without you here."
"Relationship. Jesus," Jagger mutters under his breath.
I jab my finger in his chest. "Yes, Jagger! Relationship! And I love him, so stop being a jerk! Wyatt and I are adults. You don't get a say in this."
Another moment of tension builds, and my cheeks heat as I realize what I just said. I force myself not to look at Wyatt.
He cuts the silence first, begging, "Please go, Willow."
I glance at him again.
"It's fine. I'll call you after your brother and I finish," he assures.
"Oh, we're finished," Jagger mumbles.
"You're such a hypocrite," I toss out at him.
He jerks his head backward. "I'm the hypocrite?"
"Yes."
He snorts. "Why don't you fill me in about how I'm the hypocrite?"
"Gladly. You run around town, fucking anyone you want and never commit to any of them. You have a different set of rules when it comes to others than you do for yourself," I declare.
He gives me an arrogant look. "Doesn't make me a hypocrite."
"Fine. Makes you an idiot," I say.
"Spoken from the prize idiot herself," he retorts.
"Don't talk to your sister like that," Wyatt warns darkly.
Jagger turns his angry gaze on him again. "Don't tell me what I can say to my sister."
"I can and I will," Wyatt states.
Jagger steps forward. "Oh yeah?"
Wyatt moves me out of the way. "Yeah. Now, I think we have some things to say, and it's best if Willow isn't here. Do we agree?"
Jagger glances at me, then turns his scowl back on Wyatt. "Agreed."
"I'm not leaving so you two can beat the crap out of each other," I insist.
Jagger crosses his arms. "I already beat him up."
"Because he didn't try to fight back," I point out.
Jagger scoffs. "I'll let Wyatt try again if he wants."
"Stop it!" I say loudly, but Jagger isn't listening.
"Let him show me what he's got," my brother taunts.
"Jagger!"
"I'll be right back," Wyatt says to my brother, then slides his arm around my waist and moves me toward the door. "I need you to take the truck to the house."
"Wyatt—"
"Willow, I'm not going to ask again," he says forcefully.
I freeze, taken aback by his tone.
He releases a deep breath and tries again, softer this time. "Please. Go to the house. I promise I'll call you when we're done talking."
"You're only going to talk?" I ask, panic rushing through my veins.
"That's my plan. What about you?" he asks Jagger, looking at him.
My brother just stands there, silently stewing in anger.
"Jagger!" I exclaim.
"Yeah. We're just talking," he answers gruffly.
I stare at him.
"Go on. Get out of here," he adds.
"Promise me there won't be any fighting," I say.
He begrudgingly agrees. "No fighting. Now, leave."
I glare at him and turn back to Wyatt. My voice catches. "P-please don't fight."
"I won't. Promise."
I add, "But if Jagger comes at you, beat the crap out of him."
"Like he could," Jagger mutters.
Wyatt chuckles. "Will do." He opens the door and then leads me to the truck. He yanks the driver's door open and gives me a quick kiss.
I don't want to leave, but I follow his wishes, my stomach in knots. Jagger rarely gets angry. So I want to believe they won't fight, but it's a hard pill to swallow.
Especially since I've never seen him this mad.