Chapter 13
Callie put down the burner phone she’d just opened when she saw Wyatt walk by the window outside the house. When she’d woken that morning, she had been alone.
But she also knew she hadn’t gotten into bed on her own.
She was glad she was by herself, because knowing that she had been in Wyatt’s arms did something strange to her. There was a part of her that was angry she’d slept through it, but also glad because she knew she wouldn’t have been able to keep her hands to herself.
Even though it had been well over a decade since they had been intimate, it felt weird to be that close to him—whether she was awake or not. There was a barrier between them, one that she relied on to keep from repeating a youthful mistake.
She hid her smile at having spoken to Orrin. It was great hearing his voice. She knew he’d been held and beaten, but he was alive. Hale and hearty. She wiped at the few tears that had escaped and looked up.
Only to find Wyatt standing not five feet from her. She jerked, startled at not having heard him enter the house.
“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Why are you crying?” he asked instead.
She started to lie. Then she decided not to. She hadn’t done anything wrong. “I was talking to Orrin.”
There wasn’t a single reaction from Wyatt. Not anger that she’d talked to his father without him there. Not a shred of relief that Orrin was indeed alive.
“Don’t you have anything to say?” she asked.
He shrugged, twisting his lips as he did. “Not really. I’d wanted to talk to him. And I’m waiting for you to tell me what was said.”
“We weren’t on the line long. He sounded good, but tired. And worried. He wanted to make sure that we got his warning, and that you didn’t dismiss it.”
“Why would I?” Wyatt asked.
She barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “Perhaps because it came from him, and you don’t want to have anything to do with him.”
“What else was said?”
Callie decided not to point out that Wyatt was avoiding any type of response in regards to his father. It just showed how little emotion was there.
“He thought we should make a run for it,” she said.
Wyatt nodded slowly. “So you told him about your family.”
It wasn’t a question. “I did.”
“Do you tell him everything?”
There was something in his tone, something that immediately rubbed her raw. And she knew what he really wanted to know. She hadn’t needed to tell Orrin anything. He had pieced it together himself like anyone with eyes would.
Callie held Wyatt’s stare. “Orrin is part of our team. That means that yes, I told him what I would’ve—and will—tell Owen and Natalie, as well as Cullen and Mia.”
“Stand up.”
That took her aback. “Excuse me?”
“Stand up. I want to test your close quarters combat skills.”
She guessed they were finished talking about Orrin. “Do you want to call him back?”
“Not now.”
It was hard to keep up with Wyatt’s moods and thinking sometimes. They could flip as fast as lightning. Callie decided not to remind him that she had gotten the better of him at the ranch so that he landed flat on his back. She’d just show him again.
“Afraid?” he asked when she remained seated.
“Puh-leeze. I was thinking of moving the table out of the way.”
“Then let’s move it.”
She didn’t know why, but she was suddenly wary of Wyatt. He wasn’t acting as standoffish as normal. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was beginning to open up to her as he had when they were younger.
Ha! Like that would happen again.
She got to her feet and moved the seat she’d been sitting on while Wyatt grabbed the back of a chair in each hand, setting them out of the way. Callie then took the last one and her laptop to safety. When she turned around, Wyatt had taken care of the table.
He stood on the oval, braided rug and stared at her as if silently daring her. When it came to him, she was always ready and willing to accept his challenges.
Before she’d barely taken a step onto the rug, he rushed her, grabbing her about her middle. Callie twisted, but she couldn’t break his hold or get into position to hurt him. Then he threw her over his shoulder.
Her humiliation was complete.
“I expected better,” he said and set her down.
Yeah, well, so did she. She wasn’t going to give him some lame excuse about not being ready, because there weren’t do-overs in battle.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked when he merely stood there.
There was a ghost of a smile before he took a step toward her. She was ready for him this time. With a sweep of her leg, she had him shifting his weight. Then she sent a punch into his gut while pushing against his chest with her other hand.
Callie smiled down at him from his position on the floor looking up at her. “I expected better,” she tossed his words back at him.
For the next hour, they traded turns bringing the other to the ground.
She hated to admit that Wyatt more than tested her skills.
He showed her moves she’d never seen before, causing her to reevaluate some of her strategies.
Even with the bruises she knew she’d have the next day, she was glad Wyatt had made her do this.
She laughed when she realized the current hold she had on him wouldn’t give her the advantage—but then neither could his. His answering grin made her stomach flutter.
God, he was stunning when he smiled. She found herself lost in an ocean of gold as she stared at him. It was then she grasped that their bodies were pressed together. One of his arms was locked around her, the other holding one of her wrists.
His smile melted away slowly. Their ragged breaths filled the silence of the room. The hold couldn’t be more intimate. She was all too aware of her breasts crushed against his chest. Her nipples hardened, and an ache began low in her belly.
One of them would have to be the first to relent, to let go and step away. To admit defeat.
She couldn’t seem to make herself release him. He overwhelmed her. His scent, his power, his spectacular body.
She’d seen him naked just yesterday. He’d always been gorgeous, but the years had refined his muscular body until he was a work of art.
Her mouth watered just thinking of running her hands over his flesh, of taking his arousal and stroking the hardness. Then feeling it slide inside her. She bit back the gasp that image induced.
He could never know that he still had power over her. If he did, he’d control her with just a look. That same desire-filled look that used to bring her to her knees.
That’s when he was just becoming a man. He’d had years to practice and hone his skills. Her legs went weak just thinking of what he might do to her now.
Despite her best intentions, she must have let something show in her eyes, because his darkened. And God help her, but she knew that look. She felt his cock hardening between them, causing her blood to heat even more.
She wanted him, hungered for him.
But to go down that road again would be folly. Why then wasn’t she stepping away?
And why wasn’t he?
That thought made her heart skip a beat. Her lids closed as his head lowered. Just as his lips were about to touch hers, the laptop beeped, signaling that one of the traps had been tripped.
Without a word, they stepped apart in unison. Callie grabbed her laptop and sat on the sofa to pull up the layout of the house as Wyatt came to stand beside her. The alarm set up on the perimeter was one she’d brought with her from the ranch.
“I’ll be back,” Wyatt said as he strode from the house.
She let loose a sigh once he’d gone. Though she’d wanted his kiss, she was glad they’d been interrupted. Wasn’t she?
Callie pressed her hands against her swollen breasts. Her body thrummed with need. But she could be strong. She could withstand Wyatt’s allure.
She closed her eyes, hating that she wasn’t as confident of that statement as she had been even thirty minutes earlier. Now that she’d had his arms around her again, that she’d felt his arousal, her willpower was weakening.
In an effort to tamp down the rising tide of desire, Callie remained on the couch. She thought of kittens and puppies, of cleaning her guns, of scrubbing toilets—but nothing could dislodge Wyatt from her mind.
Her eyes snapped open when he called her name. She sat up and found him walking inside with an armload of wood. The nights were getting rather chilly, but she couldn’t tell at the moment with her body heated to such a degree.
Wyatt knelt near the hearth and stacked the wood inside. “It was just a deer.”
“It’s too bad I didn’t have any video cameras left for us to bring.”
He gave a shake of his head. “Owen and Natalie need them more on the ranch. It’s a much larger area to fortify than ours.”
Ours.
That one word had the power to give a pretense to things. She and Wyatt were working together, but that’s where it ended. Whatever fantasy she’d allowed herself to believe a short time ago was gone.
The reality, the truth was that Wyatt was a loner. He didn’t need or want anyone or anything. He counted only on himself for everything he needed. There would never be an our with him.
No matter how much she’d once longed for it, no matter how much she had cried for it, there was no changing him.
Natalie might have gotten her happy ending with Owen. Mia might have even found love with Cullen. But there would be no such outcome for her.
Callie couldn’t even feel sadness for that fact anymore. At one time, it had caused her to cry herself to sleep. But acceptance had changed her. She might not like the way Wyatt was, but there was nothing she could do.
There was no mention of their near kiss as he walked out of the cabin and didn’t return for four hours. There were no words spoken when they ate dinner. Not even when he started the fire and she made coffee.
What was there to say, really? It wasn’t as if she would bring up their near kiss. She wanted to forget it as she attempted to put up a wall again—a wall that Wyatt had somehow torn down without her even knowing.
Too bad she couldn’t do the same to his. How she’d love to smash all of them. To make him empty his soul of all the anger, hate, hopes, and dreams that he’d tucked away there. If only she had that kind of power.
She stared into the flames and admonished herself for her thoughts. What did it matter how she felt about Wyatt or how he felt about her? An attack from her family as well Ahmadi—and possibly the Saints—would come at them any day.
The odds of either of them coming out of it alive were slim. To the Saints, Wyatt was better off dead. At one time, her family would’ve done anything to bring her back into the fold, but now, she wasn’t so sure. They could be coming to kill her for all she knew.
This could be her last night on Earth. And what was she doing? Silently griping about what she couldn’t change. Why? When she should be grasping at what little enjoyment or happiness she might be able to find.
She glanced at Wyatt, who stood in the kitchen. What would it matter if she gave in to her heart’s desire? There would be no promises, no declarations. Only sated need.
When she looked at him again, he was staring at her with desire burning in his eyes.