Meant To Be Different

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Meant To Be Different Page 11

by Amelia Foster


  “That’s what your dad said, Angel, but I just wanted to check on you.” His voice dropped to barely above a whisper as he spoke the name he told her was only theirs to share. “I was scared when I couldn’t find you after school. Let me come in. Talk to me.”

  Not scared enough to interrupt his time with Becky.

  “I’ll be fine. Go to training.”

  Silence met her words. Wyatt Carlisle couldn’t creep anywhere if he tried, so she knew he was still on the other side of the door. Her heart begged her to talk to him. To give him a chance to explain and discover this was a crazy misunderstanding because the light it brought into her dark world was becoming necessary to her sanity.

  But her mind…her mind was distrustful of everyone and everything. It encouraged her lips to remain closed and body to remain still.

  A thud against the oak barrier between her and Wyatt made her jump. The scrape of something sliding down the length of it drew her brows together.

  “I’ll wait until you’re feeling better, Gigi.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and heat crept up her neck knowing he didn’t believe her excuse. “I’ll wait right here for you to talk to me.”

  ***

  Wyatt

  Girls. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with them? Well…this girl in particular. He really didn’t have time for this; his training was waiting. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. Gigi was like an untamed horse. A comparison he was certain would drive her insane but was nonetheless true. The years of working with horses that ranged from exceedingly docile to feisty and scared had taught him one thing.

  “Did you forget that I am an incredibly patient man?”

  The walls were thin enough her huffing trickled through, and it was like music to his ears. There was something incredibly enjoyable about getting Gigi all riled up.

  Wyatt shifted, trying to get comfortable on the hardwood floor. An unforgiving surface that did nothing to help his still tender backside from last night’s half a dozen throws. He adjusted his hat so he could lean his head back against the door. If anyone had told him six months ago he’d be missing out on training to sit outside some girl’s bedroom door because she was having some sort of temper tantrum, he’d have laughed in their face.

  And he probably still would because this wasn’t just some girl; it was Gigi. Somehow his Dark Angel had taken precedence in his life and heart, even more important than his strict training schedule. The one that he hoped would ensure a blockbuster debut to the professional rodeo circuit.

  One of the scraggly mutts Gigi had insisted on saving from certain demise wandered over and sat down beside Wyatt, laying her head in the lap of his outstretched legs. He chuckled and scratched behind her left ear, just the way she liked. “Well, hey there, Roxy. It’s good to know at least one female in this house—”

  His words ended on a sharp yelp as the door supporting his back disappeared and he found himself staring at a very pissed-off Gigi standing over his sprawled form. Her arms were folded across her chest and her painted toes tapped far too close to his head for comfort.

  Even so, he couldn’t help but grin. “Well, hey there, Gigi. You don’t look sick…but it is kinda hard to tell with that makeup on.”

  She popped a brow up quickly. “Good thing you don’t have to deal with that anymore.” Her eyes scanned down the empty hallway and vacant rooms beyond it. “You’ve seen me and now you can get the hell out of here.”

  Wyatt scrambled to his feet, adjusted his hat, and frowned. “Care to tell me exactly what has gotten into you? You’re supposed to come with me on Fridays. You promised.”

  Sparks of anger flared into a raging blaze in the hazel depths raking over him. Her mouth opened then snapped closed at the clanging of pots in the kitchen. She fisted his shirt and pulled him into her room, closing the door with a soft click of the latch. “My grandma is making dinner, and she doesn’t need to hear what an asshole my boyfriend was. And my mom is sleeping, and I am definitely not going to rob her of a moment of rest because you—” White teeth sank into her lower lip and cut off her words.

  “Because I what, Gigi? What the hell did I do? Because I really don’t know. You were fine earlier, but then you stood me up with no explanation.” Wyatt gripped her biceps, desperation choking his voice. “Angel, you need to tell me what the hell happened in the past couple of hours.”

  Black trails of mascara ran down her cheeks. “I saw you. I get it. I was a charity case because my mom’s dying and you felt sorry for me.” A hiccup shook her entire body. “You don’t have to fake interest in the goth freak anymore. Go back to your platinum blonde bimbos.”

  Confusion plunged Wyatt’s mind into a blinding haze. “I need just a bit more information here, Angel. Because I wouldn’t let anyone in the world say half the shit about you that I just heard come out of your mouth. Don’t think you’re that special. I won’t let you say it either.”

  She lifted her arms, breaking his hold. “You were getting your stuff out of your locker and she was clinging to you like a leech. Sound familiar? If you were done playing boyfriend to me, you could have just said it. You didn’t have to prove every cliché true.”

  A boulder sank to the bottom of Wyatt’s gut followed by a long litany of curses. He’d shaken Becky off as soon as he realized it wasn’t Gigi behind him, but damn, why the hell did she have to pick that moment to see the exchange?

  There was no way to defend himself if she didn’t believe him. It looked bad. Hell, it looked like exactly what she thought. All he had to offer for proof was his word. And she’d already made up her mind.

  He turned to leave, his aching heart begging him not to walk away. Hand resting on the knob, he paused. Eyes closed, he inhaled deeply before turning around to pull Gigi into a tight embrace and crush her mouth beneath his. A hiccuping sob vibrated against his lips before her arms snaked around his neck.

  The needy force driving his desperate kiss softened. His fingers stroked up and down her spine, curving her body into him. With more strength than he ever thought he possessed, Wyatt peeled his lips from hers and pressed his forehead against hers. “I promise you it wasn’t what you think. She came up behind me and put her arms around me, and I swear I thought it was you, which is the only reason it lasted for longer than a tenth of a second. As soon as I realized it wasn’t, I pushed her away and got the hell out of Dodge. And I have no way to prove it other than to tell you that I love you, Angel. I’d never hurt you like that.”

  Her swollen, red lids lifted and met his gaze. He silently prayed she would see the truth in his eyes, that she felt it in their kiss. The silence engulfed them in its dark depth, churning and twisting his gut into agonizing knots. He was moments from begging her to trust and believe him just this once when a tiny glimmer of his Dark Angel flickered in the hazel orbs.

  “I trust you.” She pulled her head back from his.

  His hold on her tightened. “Whenever anything happens, we talk about it. Got it, Gigi?”

  A smile curled her lips, and her fingers dug into the back of his neck. “You’re pretty smart for a stupid freaking cowboy. Now kiss me again before we get caught alone in my room.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wyatt

  Present Day

  “Jake!”

  Wyatt rolled his eyes as Gigi jumped from the cab of his truck and briskly crossed to the paddock where the damned traitor of a horse reveled in the attention Gigi was lavishing on him. If Wyatt didn’t know better, he could swear the beast smirked at him when she nuzzled into his neck. “Let’s just see if your new girlfriend shows up to muck your stall and feed you an apple and carrot every morning.”

  Her hazel eyes shone up at him when he reached her side. “I didn’t realize when we made our agreement you were planning a literal roll in the hay.”

  He sputtered, words choking his throat and making him cough. “Excuse me?”

  “Well, we are supposed to be answering all the questions I have left over from high
school.” She wound her arms around Wyatt’s waist and lined her body with his, every curve and plane fitting together better than he remembered. “Because I always knew we could ignite a forest fire if we tried hard enough.”

  His traitorous body immediately applauded the idea with a tightening of every muscle. His mind raced with ideas of forgetting everything he’d staged and moving straight to the highlight of the evening. But his heart ached with the reminder that his Angel saw him the same way everyone else did. And he had no one but himself to blame for that fact.

  “No, I’m taking you to my house, but I thought we could ride Jake out.” He slid the cocky smirk in place that he didn’t really feel. “As long as you make sure you ride with me this time. And hold on tight.”

  Gigi smiled up at him. “I’d love to.” She swallowed, and a deep pink stained her cheeks. “Riding with you was one of the things I missed the most after you left. I didn’t even look at a horse for two years. I couldn’t. You brought that into my life at the exact moment I needed it and it was something special we shared.”

  Every time he thought he couldn’t fall any deeper into the hollow pit that had formed from his regret and self-loathing, he realized he had only been hanging onto a crevice and had much lower to go. “I’m sorry, Ang—”

  Soft fingers landed against his mouth, and as much as he was trying to stay levelheaded, his pants tightened a fraction. Damn, he’d missed that touch.

  “I didn’t tell you that to elicit another apology or make you feel any worse. Tonight isn’t supposed to be about that.”

  What the hell is it about then? Because if you say just sex one more time… He kept his internal screams locked far from Gigi’s ears. He had to be patient and understanding and own the fact he created this. Even if it might kill him.

  She stroked the soft mane of the beast standing to her right who snorted and stomped in reply, indignant at having been forgotten for so long. “You couldn’t have picked a better start, though.” She brushed her lips across Wyatt’s cheek. “Thanks, Cowboy.”

  His Dark Angel always had a knack for silencing his overly active brain and rapid-fire mouth. A talent that hadn’t faded over the years. The comfortable quiet of old friends and lovers whose connection transcended words fell over them as they set out on Jake at a slow canter. He held the reins in one hand while the other covered hers where they met just below his sternum.

  Sooner than he really liked, they reached the base of the hill. He dismounted and lifted her off the saddle. Gigi had never been one to conceal her emotions from him. Whether it was the irritation and disdain she showered on him during her first days at school or the lusty need that quickly consumed much of their adolescent relationship, he always had a pretty damn good idea what was going through that beautiful auburn head.

  The transition from confusion to understanding to delight played out across her face in under thirty seconds. “Wyatt…”

  He laced his fingers through hers, and they climbed the open stairs, stepping around two-by-fours left behind by the construction crew, ready for placement when they returned on Monday. In the center of a large, open square that would one day be a living room was a pile of pillows, blankets, and a cooler of food. All surrounded by flameless candles and lanterns.

  Wide eyes stared up at him, a single line across her forehead the only clue to her uncertainty. “This…looks an awful lot like a date.”

  It was. In his mind. Because there was nothing “just” when it came to Gigi. She was never just a girl. They were never just dating. And this could never be just sex. Not between them. But he’d play the game she set up for now, and he’d take every chance to show her that they could be more, that they should be more, and that if she trusted him again, he’d never screw it up.

  Instead of saying a word of that, he dropped his voice and thickened his manufactured drawl. “Why we need something to keep our stamina up there, Gigi.”

  She rolled her eyes and tugged on his hand, walking backwards to the massive pile of linens waiting. “I am suddenly starving.”

  She kicked off her sandals and stood on the comforter. Before Wyatt could offer to open the cooler, she whipped the sundress over her head. The orange, purple, and reds of the setting sun kissed her skin, and her entire body glowed in the fading light. His tongue clung to the roof of his mouth and he was helpless to do anything but gawk at her mostly naked form. He wasn’t sure if he was still breathing but couldn’t bring himself to care. If this was how he would die, what a way to go. His adorably sassy Angel had grown into a woman that conjured a tempest of love and passion that consumed every part of him. Mentally, emotionally, and definitely physically.

  “Well, Cowboy, are you just gonna stand there?”

  He pulled his boots off and closed the few feet separating them before his mind could kick in. She let out a shriek mingled with a laugh as he lowered her onto the downy mass. Wyatt quickly swallowed every sound when his mouth landed on hers. His hand slipped inside her bra, kneading, teasing, tweaking the soft skin beneath. He trailed down her neck to kiss along her shoulders, smiling at the soft gasps when he lightly pinched the pebble he’d been toying with.

  He reached behind her back, flicking open the clasp and eliciting a groan from Gigi. “Should I be worried that you did that so easily?”

  Wyatt laughed as he tossed the satin lingerie to his right, letting his mouth replace his hands and feast on Gigi. He ground against her, the denim material creating a delicious friction. “I’ve always been damn good at that. It’s a gift.”

  She squirmed beneath him, arching her back as his lips trailed along her abdomen, dipping below her navel, pushing her underwear down as he went. He licked along the heated seam before his tongue skated across the tiny bundle of nerves that caused her to buck against his mouth.

  “Dammit, Wyatt! I need you.” Her scream ended on a whimper as his fingers joined his mouth, heightening her pleasure.

  Two digits became three, and he lifted his head, drinking in the flushed beauty falling apart before him. “Now, Gigi, would you deny a starving man the perfect meal?”

  His lips returned to the small nub, sucking lightly as his fingers curled inside her. The cry that erupted echoed through the valley around him, and he made a mental note to soundproof their bedroom. Because it damned sure was going to be theirs.

  Her hands frantically grasped at his shirt. “Off. Now. Everything.” She pulled him back up until his face was in line with hers. “I need you, Wyatt. I need you right now. All of you.”

  Never one to deny a lady, and completely incapable of saying no to Gigi even if he wanted to, he scrambled to his feet and shed his clothes and hat, tossing them in the general direction of hers. He fished a condom from his wallet and added that to the pile.

  Before he could don the latex barrier, Gigi levered up on her elbows. “Not without the hat, Cowboy.”

  “Oh, hell.” He muttered the curse as he snatched his hat from the floor and jammed it on his head. Once he was sheathed, he returned to stretch his body on top of hers. In one smooth motion, he slid inside. “Better?”

  Gigi hitched her legs up on his hips and arched her back, deepening their connection. Her teeth sank into her lower lip, hazel eyes wide with desire. She nodded, and Wyatt banked his body’s reaction. Barely.

  Need and desire quickly took over, and the slow pace he’d started was abandoned. Gigi met him with each thrust, her moans and gasps driving him.

  Her hands flew to his face and her widened eyes and opened mouth as she found her second release transfixed him and brought his own exploding completion as he screamed her name.

  With more effort than he thought possible, he rolled off her sweat-slickened body, removed the condom, and hurried to return, pulling her against his side. He tugged on one of the blankets to cover them against the cooling air.

  She lifted her head and propped her chin on his chest. “Isn’t this the point in the program where you feed me, Cowboy?”

  ***
r />   Georgia

  The steady, rhythmic cadence of the pen bouncing off the desk echoed in Georgia’s ears as she reined in her desire to interrupt Wyatt’s careful perusal of the design boards she’d called him in to see today. They were good. Really good. Finally with a lot of hands-on guidance from Georgia herself they had managed to craft something she was proud of and excited to show Wyatt. She desperately needed to hear him say that they had hit the nail on the head and delivered exactly what he wanted.

  His utter silence was chipping away at that confidence with every tick of the hands on the clock.

  Blue eyes sparkled up at her as he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “It was that first trip to the ranch that did it, wasn’t it? I was right and you needed a horseback guided tour to figure it all out.” He set the images on the smooth, cherry surface separating them, leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms across his chest.

  Cocky smirk firmly in place.

  “You’re an ass.” As much as she wanted to, Georgia couldn’t resist meeting his smile with one of her own, because dammit, he was right. She hated that fact almost as much as she loved it.

  His brows kicked up as he stood and rounded her desk, resting his backside against it. “That might be true…” He bent forward, his mouth right beside her ear, his warm breath causing the familiar fire of need to race through her veins. “But you also love my ass. I seem to recall someone’s nails digging into it last night while she screamed my name.”

  The back of her hand collided with his bicep as she tried to ignore the heat pooling between her legs. She was slightly embarrassed at the speed she had texted him the very next night after the one at his ranch. As well as the next night. And every night after. To his face she kept the façade of “sex only” intact, but only to herself did she admit the truth. It was why she struggled to walk away at the end of the night and leave him to sleep in the small room he’d turned into a makeshift bedroom off the main office of the barn. And why she silenced every voice in her head begging her to invite him to abandon the uncomfortable futon in favor of the queen-sized bed that occupied most of her childhood bedroom with the fluffy down bedding and top-of-the-line mattress.

 

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