Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
WYATT
I’ve never in my life spoken so plainly to a woman like I did with Rachel.
I’m too old for games, too old for pretending I can go along with whatever happens and damn the consequences.
I’m twenty-eight, and my birthday is in a few weeks.
Nearly thirty, and I need to know what her plan is.
Not just for Dottie but for myself too. I need to protect her at all costs.
Protect myself too. I’ve been done dirty, and it took me a long time to get over it. I’m probably asking for too much from Rachel, but fuck it. She’s young and carefree and comes from money. She has zero reasons to want to stay here and . . . what? Possibly settle down? With me?
I’m completely jumping the gun, but I can envision it. See it as plain as day. The two of us together, raising Dottie. Rachel and I could go on and eventually have a couple of kids of our own. Living in the house I originally bought for me and Cheryl . . .
Fuck Cheryl. I think she was in that house for less than three months, tops.
When I bought it, we couldn’t move right in because it had some major issues that needed to be renovated first. It was my project I worked on during my days off.
I basically rebuilt that house with my own bare hands, and with help from my dad and Nate.
It should never be considered mine and Cheryl’s.
It’s mine. And Dottie’s. And maybe someday Rachel could live with us too.
I scrub a hand along my jaw, hating how Rachel is taking way too long to respond. The noise of the crowded restaurant, the loud music—it’s making my head ache, and I feel like a chump. A lay it on the line, reveal all my feelings, only to have them thrown back in my face chump.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Rachel finally says, her voice tentative.
As if she’s being careful with her word choice.
“All I know is that I really like it here. And I care about you, Wyatt. I do.” Her big blue eyes meet mine, and they’re full of so much unknown emotion that my chest aches.
“But I feel like I’m at a crossroads. I’m not sure what I should do next or where I belong.
Is it here? Or is it back home? I was completely unsatisfied there.
I got publicly dumped—you’ve never asked me about it, but I’m guessing you looked me up and found out. ”
“I did,” I admit, keeping my voice low. I don’t want to embarrass her or make her feel pressured.
“Right. Of course you did.” A melancholy sigh leaves her, and she dips her head, her gaze on the table in front of her.
“I hate how terrible that made me feel. From what I’ve gathered, he was seeing her and me at the same time, and she won.
That’s a bad way to think of it, but it’s true.
She won, and I lost, and I needed to go somewhere to lick my wounds.
That’s how I ended up here. I wanted to be alone in the hope that I could find myself again.
Instead, I set my parents’ house on fire and met you. ”
Unable to stop myself, I reach across the table and grab her hand, interlacing our fingers together. “Have you found yourself yet?”
“I’m still a work in progress.” She lifts her head, her smile faint. “But I like who I’m becoming. I like her a lot. I’m not the same girl I was when I first arrived here, Wyatt. I feel changed. By everyone in this town, by my job, even by you.”
I squeeze her hand. “This is a pretty deep conversation for a first date.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “It is, isn’t it? And I’ve never been one for deep conversations.”
“A person can change.”
Her eyes light up, and she nods, her fingers tightening around mine. “They can. My prior first dates were mostly me prattling on about how much I’ve traveled and the places I’ve been. The things I’ve purchased and collected. I don’t regret the travel, but did I really need all the stuff?”
“Probably not, I’m guessing.”
“You would be correct.” Another sigh leaves her, but this one isn’t as forlorn as the previous one. “Are you ready to go?”
My entire body goes tight. Is she ready to come back to my place? Or does she want me to return her to Paige’s condo? “I am.”
We leave the restaurant hand in hand, and I swear I feel everyone watching us.
The tourists and the locals alike. Do we make an odd couple?
I thought we fit pretty good, but maybe I’m wrong.
Maybe she’s too beautiful, too sophisticated for me.
I’ve never spent much time in a bigger city.
We went to San Francisco for a field trip once when I was in the fifth grade.
Sacramento for training for work. Southern California for family vacations at Universal or Disneyland.
For fires, I’ve traveled all over, but I don’t count that as spending time in an actual city.
Most of the fires we go on are in rural areas.
Small towns like the one I live in, burning down to the ground.
It could happen to us. I hope it won’t, but fuck. There’s a chance.
Once we’re situated in my car and I’m about to start the engine, I ask, “Take you back to Paige’s then?”
She whips her head in my direction, her eyes wide. “I thought we were going back to your place.”
I tamp down the excitement that starts buzzing in my veins. “I don’t want to push you into doing something you don’t want to—”
Rachel cuts me off, her voice firm. “Don’t pull that nice-guy charm on me, Wyatt. Take me back to your place so you can do dirty, filthy things to me.”
A burst of laughter escapes me, and I swear my chest feels lighter. “Whatever the woman says.” I even offer a salute before I start to back out of the parking spot.
“Smart-ass,” she murmurs, that knowing smile on her face making my heart twist.
Shit. I’m doomed.
* * *
“Oh my gosh, your house is so cute!” Rachel exclaims when I let her inside and flick on the lights. I remain standing in front of the now-closed door, letting her look her fill as she walks around the living room. She turns to face me. “I love it.”
This woman has seen all sorts of places and been all over the world. I’m sure her enthusiasm is a bit overplayed to make me feel better. “It’s okay.”
“Better than okay. It’s so . . . charming.” She approaches the massive stone fireplace that I cleaned up myself, running her fingers over the smooth river rocks.
“Is charming a code word for ‘the house is old but at least it’s clean’?” I’m being defensive, something I try not to do, but I can’t help it. This house is my pride and joy, and I want her to like it.
Rachel turns to face me, a scowl on her pretty face. Damn it, that denim dress is just begging to be peeled off her delectable body. My fingers itch to do exactly that. “I mean what I say, Wyatt. I love it. I can’t believe you redid all of this by yourself.”
“I had some help,” I tell her with a shrug, my body growing tense as she approaches. “My dad and my brother pitched in. Nate bitched a lot, but he was a huge help during the offseason.”
“Are you referring to the fire season?”
“No.” I grin. “Football season. Though it’s almost one and the same.”
“Show me around,” she demands, and so I do, giving her a quick tour.
The kitchen and connected dining space. The half bathroom and Dottie’s room, along with the office, which is where I have a desk and a computer.
The bathroom that Dottie uses, which is pink and purple and white and looks like every little girl’s dream.
“I love the ladybug shower curtain.” Rachel smiles at me, the sight of it sending a zing straight to my heart. And my dick. “I had no idea ladybugs were pink and purple.”
“You haven’t seen the ones that are native to here then.” My voice is full of confidence.
She turns off the light as we exit the bathroom and follows me down the hall toward my bedroom. “Are you being serious?”
I whip around, walking backward so I can watch her. “The question should be, are you being serious?”
She laughs and shakes her head. “It must be the alcohol. I almost believed you.”
“Oh, come on now, Rach. You can’t be that silly to believe pink-and-purple ladybugs are real.”
“You never know! I’ve seen some freaky bugs in my time.”
I go quiet as I enter my room, and she does too.
I don’t bother turning on the overhead light—too harsh for the current mood.
Instead, I go to my nightstand and turn on the lamp that sits there, pleased with the ambient glow it casts in the room.
“And this is my bedroom. I have a connected bathroom over there.” I wave a hand toward the doorway, but she’s not even looking.
Rachel wanders over to the sliding glass door, staring out at the deck. “This is nice.”
“You can go out there if you want.”
There’s no hesitation when she flips the lock and slides the door open, then the screen, stepping out onto the wooden deck Nate and I sanded and restained years ago.
I follow her outside, taking a deep breath, the scent of pine filling my lungs.
We’re surrounded by them where my house sits.
I don’t live right on the lake because that costs big bucks to own, but I’m less than five minutes from the water, and that’s close enough.
The air gets cooler here at night, the temperatures dropping thanks to the nearby water, and it’s chilly.
Rachel walks right over to the spot on the deck that faces toward the lake, leaning against the wooden railing and tipping her head back, her golden hair spilling past her shoulders.
I approach her quietly, standing just behind her, my gaze on her ass and how the denim curves over it. Going on pure instinct, I crowd her from behind, bracing my hands on either side of hers on the railing, the front of my body snug with the back of hers.
We’re a perfect fit.
“I like this. Reminds me of my vacation house,” she murmurs, pressing her head against my chest.
“I don’t have a view like you do,” I start, but she shakes her head, making me go silent.
“I don’t need the view. I like the towering pines around us. The scent. I know the water is right over there.” She points, her sense of direction spot-on. “Do you ever sit out here at night?”
“Not as much as I should,” I admit, lifting my hand and letting it drift down the length of her bare arm.
Goose bumps rise almost immediately on her skin.
I can envision it. Dottie would be in bed, and we could sit out here and catch up after a long day.
Talk about our day while we drink a glass of wine.
Whoa. I am getting way too ahead of myself.
“Hmm.” That’s all she says, her body relaxing more fully against mine. I bend my head, my face in her hair, and I take a deep breath, savoring the fruity smell of it. Everything about this woman just does it for me, which is crazy. She’s so much younger than me, but what’s six or seven years?
It’s a lot if she’s not ready to settle down.
Matching her mood, I remain quiet as well, brushing her hair away from her neck so I can press my mouth there.
I inhale the delicate scent of her perfume, the warmth of her soft, smooth skin.
She tilts her head to the side, giving me better access, and I take it, my mouth blazing a trail along the length of her neck, licking at the spot where it meets her shoulder.
She grips the railing in front of her, and I drop both of my hands to her hips, giving them a squeeze. I like that she’s not too tiny. That she has a little meat on her bones and is curvy. I like everything about her.
Every damn thing.
With gentle force, I grip her hips, getting her to turn around and face me. Our lower bodies are flush together, my dick coming to life at being nestled so close to her, and she tips her head back, her luminous eyes meeting mine. “You want to go inside?” I ask.
Rachel slowly shakes her head, a naughty smile appearing on her face. “Kiss me outside for a little while first. I like it out here.”
Giving in to what the woman wants, I dip my head, brush my mouth over hers. Once. Twice. She parts her lips without hesitation, the silent invitation for me to sweep my tongue inside, and I do, her tongue gliding against mine.
My body comes to life, like an engine starting after being dead for so long, and I surge into her, pressing her against the railing as I devour her mouth.
She runs her hands up and down my chest, her fingers teasing over the buttons of my shirt, and when she flicks one undone, I groan against her lips.
Fuck, if she keeps this up, I won’t be able to hold back much longer.