He stared at me, saying nothing for a long time. His eyes flicked back and forth between mine, searching and analyzing, deciding if I was telling the truth. Of course, I was. And he needed to know it. I poured all of myself into that look, into the truth of what I told him.
Yes, he was the reason. He was the only reason she needed.
Finally, he looked away and I gasped for breath, but I didn’t let go of his arm.
“Like I said, I had Jo. And Ezra and Killian helped. Killian has a similar story. It’s nice to know that… you’re not alone. I mean, I don’t have any biological siblings, but I have lots of foster brothers. Not only Killian and Ezra. There were a lot of kids on that farm. We’ve all stayed close over the years.” He smiled again. “You know, surviving Jo bonds you. It might as well be blood we share.”
I smiled with him, finding myself jealous again, but for entirely different reasons this time. I had an idyllic childhood compared to Wyatt. My parents loved each other. They’d never done a drug in their life. I had biological sisters who I adored. But there was something about the way Wyatt talked about his foster brothers that made me envious.
Or maybe it was more like regret. Guilt? His fierce loyalty was so evident. He would do anything for his brothers. For Jo. And I knew Killian and Ezra were the same way.
I didn’t have those same feelings for my parents. I lovingly tolerated them. Their pleas and petitions for me to move home were getting old. And my sisters and I were as quick to fight with each other as we were to stand up for one another.
“Have I freaked you out?”
I turned my head, so he could see the sincerity in my expression. “No, not at all.” My small smile wobbled. “I was feeling guilty for how much I take my own family for granted.”
He winked at me. “I have some of that too.”
A single butterfly flapped dragon-length wings through the pit of my stomach and a shiver rolled down my back. God, if I wasn’t careful, I was going to develop feelings for this man. The real kind. The never-ending kind. “I have two sisters,” I confessed. “Claire is only ten months younger than me. But Cameron is six years younger. She’s the baby.”
“Your parents needed a break after… Claire?”
“Yeah, the whole Irish twin thing wasn’t fun for my mom. It was me though. I know this will be hard to believe, but I was a difficult child.” I was still a difficult child. He nudged me with his elbow and we both laughed.
We aimlessly wove our way around vendors, inhaling the fresh market scent and enjoying the cool breeze dancing over our skin. It was a perfect morning. And it took a lot for me to say that.
“Are you and her close?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Mostly, yeah.”
He laughed. “Mostly? What does that mean?”
I glared at the sky for a second, hating myself for admitting this to someone. Especially Wyatt. “She’s the perfect one, you know? The straight A student, the prom queen, the perfect angel. And I’m… not those things.”
“You’re the evil twin?”
The mischievous tone to his voice softened the truth. “Yes, exactly.”
“What does your sister do?”
“She’s a teacher,” I sighed. “A kindergarten teacher.”
He laughed again. “Gross.”
I shot him an appreciative smile. “Thank you!” Wyatt put his hand on the small of my back to lead me around a corner and kept it there. The warmth of his hand sunk into my skin and spread through my body, wrapping around my bones, infusing my blood, sinking into deep, secret metaphysical places of me.
God, I was in trouble with this man. Clearing my throat, I added more to my case against Claire. “But it gets worse. She also lives five minutes away from my parents. She stayed home while I fled to the big, bad city. Something my parents have never forgiven me for.”
“What?!” he exclaimed, his voice sliding over the word until it reached a high pitch.
I smiled. “It’s their life goal to get me to move back home. And until I do, Claire will remain the golden child.”
“Where’s home?”
“Hamilton. It’s about two hours west. Past Greensboro.”
“Small town?” he asked, clearly having never heard of it before.
“Very,” I confirmed. “About a thousand people. My parents were born, raised, and plan to die there. They’d like Claire, Cameron and I to do the same. But that town is toxic. I… I can’t do it.” I fixed my attention on my shoes, but the ground blurred in front of me, obscured by my watery vision. “Plus,” I added brightly. “They have like one greasy diner and a Pizza Hut—not a lot of career opportunities for a classically trained chef.”
“You wouldn’t leave Durham, would you?”
“Oh, no. Never. I was kidding.”
A thoughtful silence stretched between us, but it didn’t bother me. It wasn’t awkward. It was weirdly comfortable.
Finally, Wyatt said, “Your parents give you a hard time about that?”
“Every single day. All they want is for me to move home, marry my high school sweetheart, and give them thirteen grandchildren. No big deal.”
His laugh was a low rumble. “No big deal. Is that what Claire’s doing?”
Shaking my head, I felt a twinge of pity for my sister and her tragic dating life. She had the absolute worst taste in men. “No, she’s still single. But for some reason my parents are less worried about her. Maybe because she’s a whole ten months younger than me. Or maybe because the dating pool in Hamilton is shallow? I have no idea. But for some reason they’re convinced I’m going to turn into an old maid and die alone.” I laughed, but it lacked the humor I’d hoped to use to soften the truth. “Although, going by current standards, they might be right about that. They know I keep insane hours. And that I haven’t been on a serious date in like two years.” I paused, giving them the benefit of the doubt and letting my affection for them override my sarcasm. “I think they’re just worried about how hard I work.”
“They don’t get it then,” Wyatt said softly… thoughtfully. “How important this is for us.”
I inhaled a deep, even breath, appreciating his support in a way I didn’t realize I needed until he’d given it to me. “I didn’t even notice at first, you know? I just wanted it so bad… wanted to make it, wanted to make a name for myself, wanted to move forward in my career. It’s like, I’m waking up to how completely enslaved I am to this thing.”
“It feels good though, doesn’t it?”
A smile stretched across my face. “Yes. In the best way.”
He grinned back. “We’re an industry of masochists.”
We stopped under the shade behind a stand, the cool air pulling goose bumps from my arms. Or maybe it was the hot look in Wyatt’s dark eyes. It was hard to say. “Sadistic, right?”
Leaning forward, he tried to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. It didn’t stay. It was still too short. “At least we have each other.”
“At least,” I whispered.
Our bodies moved together at the same time, our mouths crashing together in a gasp of breath and touch of lips and taste of tongue. He didn’t waste time pushing me gently back against the stand wall, his hands holding on to my waist, tugging our bodies together in a collision of heat and need.
His mouth moved over mine, hungry and inviting, encouraging me to move back, taste back… seduce back. I tilted my head, so he could delve his tongue deeper into my mouth, pulling a sound from the back of my throat that was almost guttural.
God, how could he taste so good? Like mouthwash and a hint of coffee. And Wyatt—a taste I was getting too quickly addicted to.
His fingers moved over my bare skin thanks to my crop top shirt, but he wanted more than the slim strip of skin I offered freely. He wanted everything. And as his hands slid upwards, over my ribs, against the edge of my bra, I made another one of those sounds, inviting him to explore and discover and keep doing what he was doing.
He trailed kisses over my jawline,
nibbling on my earlobe, driving me absolutely wild with searing anticipation.
“Wyatt,” I gasped as he kissed down my throat, spending significant time along my collarbone and the place just below my ear.
“Kaya,” he rumbled, teasing me.
The tiniest slice of sanity returned. “What are we doing?”
He lifted his head, his eyes pitch-black with lust, a smile playing on his full lips. “I’m worried that it’s not obvious to you…”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I mean with…” I wiggled a finger back and forth, “us.”
The look in his eyes faded, turning careful and guarded. “Is there an us?”
Slapping his shoulder, I let him know that I was frustrated with him. “Wyatt, you tell me!”
He pulled me against him again and I had to work to swallow. His body was so hard, so completely unyielding. Every single part of him. He was temptation and sanctuary all at once. He was irresistible and addicting and looking at me like I was the same thing for him.
“Kaya, I like you,” he said in a voice that was as rich and decadent as chocolate ganache, just like his eyes. “And I think you like me.”
“Irrelevant,” I growled. “That doesn’t explain what we’re doing. Secretly making out? Wandering around markets baring our souls to each other? What is happening between us?”
His smile returned, and it was enough to send my heart into overdrive. “I’d hardly call having a normal conversation baring our souls. And, I’m happy to make out with you in public places if you’re tired of the secrecy.” I opened my mouth to call him an idiot, but he cut me off. “My point is that I think we both like each other and that maybe we should see where this goes. Maybe there’s enough between us that we should explore it.” His fingertips glided over my ribcage, finding their way to my back where he splayed his huge hand over my spine. “Explore each other.”
Sex, my brain told me immediately. He wanted sex.
And okay, fine. Maybe I did too.
“This is a bad idea,” I whispered, too far gone with desire to put any real conviction behind the truth.
He shrugged. “I like bad ideas.”
Holding his gaze, I said, “We have that in common.”
His head dipped, readying to kiss me again when a voice called out from several feet away. “Wyatt Shaw, what are you doing to that poor girl this early in the morning?”
Instead of his lips, his forehead dropped to mine and his eyes slammed shut. I watched with no small amount of fascination as his entire face turned red.
“Hey, Jo,” he called back.
Aw crap.
Finally, he pulled away, exposing me to the most terrifying woman in all of creation. “Kaya, is that you?”
“H-hi,” I croaked. “Hi, Jo.”
She shook her head, apparently disappointed in both of us. I felt thirteen again, when I’d been caught making out with Danny Brayburn in the fellowship hall of our church by Mrs. Minch, the seventy-year-old organ player.
Jo snorted. “Did you only come out here to make a spectacle of yourselves? Or are you going to buy some produce?”
“That one,” Wyatt said, clearing his throat and fidgeting. “The, uh, second one. I’d planned on saving the spectacle for after.”
It was my turn to turn the color of a ripe strawberry. Jo let out a shocked cackle. “Then let’s get this over with so you can get back to it.”
Jo turned and marched off to her stand while I tried to catch the shriveling pieces of my dignity. Wyatt turned back and grinned at me. “You heard her, let’s get this over with so we can get back to it.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me after him. “Not happening,” I hissed at his back. “That was the last time.”
“You keep saying that,” he said without looking at me. “You’re like the boy who cried wolf. I don’t believe you anymore.”
We came to a stop in front of some of the lushest produce I’d ever seen. Shiny, oddly shaped heirloom tomatoes and long, bumpy cucumbers. Perfectly round radishes. Juicy strawberries. Jars of orange marmalade and raspberry preserves. We were standing in front of a carefully guarded gold mine. My spirits instantly lifted.
“You’re going to be disappointed then,” I told Wyatt as my fingers itched to grab for the beauties laid out in front of me.
He leaned in, his breath a whispery tickle over the shell of my ear. “Your denial is cute. But we both know you’ve got it bad for me, Swift. So, so bad.”
Fifteen
I had a flat of produce that I had no idea what I was going to do with or when I was going to use it, seeing as I worked every single night. But I couldn’t help myself. Jo had the best of the best. Her stand was a chef’s dream.
And fortunately for us, she worked with Ezra’s restaurants almost exclusively. Wyatt had wandered off to check something out for Jo in her truck. Apparently, he was a bit of a mechanic too. That shouldn’t have been another turn on, but damn it, picturing him all greasy and shirtless and under a car was pretty much the hottest thing I’d ever imagined.
Everything Wyatt did was suddenly hot. I mean everything. He could have flossed his teeth and I would have worried about my panties melting off my body. It was obnoxious.
Jo eyed me across a pile of figs. “I haven’t seen Wyatt with a girl in a long time. Not since the last one that hated food. Could have told you she wasn’t going to work out. Personal trainer my ass. She wouldn’t eat his food. That was a big enough sign that astronauts could see it from space.” She pursed her lips and added, “Not that I don’t think there have been other girls. He doesn’t bring them around me anymore. He doesn’t like my opinions.”
I didn’t know if that was an insult or a commentary on factual history. Steeling my nerves, I told my courage to cowboy up. I was tougher than Jo wanted to believe I was.
“We’re not really here together,” I told her evenly. “You caught us at a weird time.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re in the habit of kissing boys you’re not with?”
Well, shit. I searched for my usually sharp temper, but I couldn’t seem to find it today. Instead, something else came out of my mouth. Something stupid and kind of pathetic. “How many girls do you think there are?”
Her lips twitched like she wanted to smile, but she held it back, reminding me so much of Wyatt in that moment that my chest pinched. “I thought you said you’re not with him. What does it matter to you?”
I glanced at the sky, hoping help would fall from it. “Because I’m really not in the habit of kissing boys I’m not with,” I confessed. “And…”
“And it’s Wyatt,” she finished for me, sounding as confused and unsure as I did. “I’ll tell you this much, Wyatt has never brought a girl to this stand. Not even one he casually works with. So, you two could have stepped up here as businesslike as you please and I would have known something was up immediately. But you didn’t step up here. I think you circled the damn place fifteen times before I caught you smooching. So, all that to say, there aren’t other girls, honey. There’s you.”
My heart kicked in my chest, harder and faster than a freaking kangaroo on the offensive. “I thought he hated me.”
“I’ve known Wyatt a long time. I can honestly say I’ve never known him to hate anyone.”
She didn’t know us before the constant making out… “Any words of advice?”
She smiled this time and the expression softened her face, making her look years younger and possibly approachable. “Don’t hurt him.”
I took it back. She wasn’t approachable. She was a grinning viper. Her mouth stretched wide, readying her for her attack. Yikes!
Licking dry lips, I tried to form the right response. “I’m not planning to,” came out instead.
“Don’t worry about planning,” she snapped back. “Don’t do it. That boy doesn’t trust people. And I mean, not at all. His mama was about as awful as they come, and she messed him up real good. Don’t be another woman that disappoints him. Don’t
give him another reason to stay alone.”
Shit. And holy shit. What was I even supposed to say to that? I couldn’t promise her those things! I didn’t know what was going to happen with Wyatt and me, but happily ever after was a ridiculous stretch of the imagination. More than likely I would disappoint him. Probably even today. Hell, I felt like I had already disappointed him as his employee about one hundred times in the last six months. Don’t give him another reason to stay alone? I was like the definition of why men should stay alone. Run. Hide your men. The she-wolf is on the prowl!
Good grief, Jo had messed with my head in about the most severe way possible. And now she was looking at me, waiting for a response. All I wanted to do was throw my hands in the air and run away screaming.
“We’re just…” Friends? No, that wasn’t the right word.
Enemies? Wrong too. Especially now.
Competition? That felt more like reality, but how could I explain that to Jo in a way that would make the kissing make sense?
“We’re uh…” I tried again.
“Yeah, yeah,” she waved me off. “I know what you’re doing. And I also know that two of his brothers have recently settled down and it’s started a fire in that boy that he didn’t know needed to be kindled. Now he’s out looking for that girl, the one that’s going to save him from himself.” Her eyes narrowed, becoming shrewder, less trusting—if that was even possible. “My guess is he thinks that girl is you, Miss Swift. I’m asking that if you’re not also looking for someone serious, that you let him down before he’s too invested, to give him a chance to recover.”
I pressed a fist to my stomach and leaned forward, desperate to catch my breath. “Damn, you’ve put a lot of pressure on me.”
She cackled again, sounding more and more like an evil witch from a Disney cartoon movie. “It’s only fair to warn you, I love that boy like my own. I want to see him happy.” She leaned forward on her hands, bringing her head closer to mine. “But mostly, I don’t want to see him hurt. I think we have that in common.”
She was right. I didn’t want to hurt him. No matter what my feelings were for him. And to be honest, I was still trying to sort through them and give them names. They ping-ponged back and forth frantically between my head and my chest, never landing long enough for me to pin one down.
Opposites Attract: The complete box set Page 79