Wyatt stroked a hand down the length of her auburn hair. Wordlessly, he carried her back out to the garden, the place he knew she’d find some measure of peace. The echoing clacks from Roxy and Roscoe’s nails followed behind. “Shh, Angel. None of that.”
Tears soaked the shoulder of his shirt. The heat from the June sun created sticky trails down his spine. None of that mattered as long as he could hold her.
“I love you. I shouldn’t have said any of that to you. You’ve done more for me than anyone and—”
Another gut-wrenching wail swallowed her next words, and Wyatt tightened his grip in response. “Just listen right now, Angel. There is nothing you can say to make me stop loving you. Nothing will ever happen that can make me stop loving you. You stole my heart, and I’m really okay with never getting it back.”
***
Georgia
Georgia’s eyes fell on the bare space of the floor that would normally be occupied with a brightly lit, colorfully decorated fir tree.
Her grandfather hadn’t suggested taking a trip to the Christmas tree farm.
Her grandmother had set a small tree in the center of the dining room table and extoled the virtues of the minute nod to the holiday rather than the typical excessiveness she embraced.
And her father barely strung two words together.
She went along with her grandfather’s change in subject anytime Christmas was broached. She agreed with her grandmother even when she was screaming inside that she wanted the little slice of normalcy of the season. She focused on making sure her father ate and drank and continued breathing.
But now it was Christmas Eve and her fractured heart wanted some trapping of the holiday, anything. A wreath, a stocking, hell mistletoe would make her damn near giddy. She wiggled her toes in the ebony tights covering her feet and legs. A crazy desire for the goth girl to want a little holly jolly in her life, but the hunger was there, begging to be fed.
A thundering knock on the door pulled her out of the dark place she only dared share with Wyatt. Before she could get to her feet to answer, it burst open, and a scraggly tree that barely reached his shoulder stood in front of the very boy she’d been thinking of. The one who carried her every burden and dried her every tear.
“Wyatt? What the hell is that?”
A gasp and rustling behind her barely proceeded a clacking tongue. “Georgia Leigh Marsh, watch your tongue…” The words died on her grandmother’s lips as the older woman rounded the corner from the kitchen. “Oh my.”
Her stupid freaking cowboy tipped the brim of his tan Stetson adorned with a ridiculous red Santa hat on top of it. “Evenin’, ma’am. There was this little elf that mentioned you hadn’t had much luck finding a tree, so the big guy at the Pole sent me to remedy that situation.”
He threw a wink at Georgia as he charmed the pants, and a layer of sadness, off her grandmother. Laughter mingled with tears as the older woman kissed Wyatt’s cheek. Her father and grandfather filed in and stopped dead in their tracks at the periphery of the room.
Georgia clamped down on her lower lip, half expecting one or both to demand the exit of any decorations—other than the two-foot tabletop tree that hinted at the holiday—from the house. Or for both of them to turn on their heels and leave in a wake of anguished silence, more on par for their norm.
Her father’s gaze darted from her to Wyatt seconds before he embraced her boyfriend in an emotional hug. His whispered, “Thank you,” barely reached her, but it managed to stitch another piece of her broken heart together.
Within minutes, the tree was secured in the stand, and everyone began pulling boxes down from the attic, stringing lights and hanging ornaments while her grandmother stirred hot cocoa in a pot on the stove.
They sat on the couch, sipping the warm drink as her father and grandfather debated white versus colored lights and the first spark of life flickered in two of the men she loved the most. All because of the third.
As if he knew she was thinking of him, he leaned in, nuzzling against her ear. “Think I’d be able to steal you away for a little while? I have something that’s just for you.”
“I think the Rhinestone Cowboy could ask for the moon and the only debate would be which one of my family members would be pulling it to earth for you.”
His deep chuckle vibrated her side where they touched. As expected, her request to take a walk with Wyatt was quickly approved as the sudden resurgence of Christmas overtook her household.
“Where are we going, anyway, Cowboy?” She hadn’t thought to ask until after she’d collected her coat and they stood on her front step.
Wyatt grinned at her, his broad, blindingly white grin unnerving every part of her. “To our spot, of course.”
He didn’t need to elaborate further. Her chest burned with the gratitude and overwhelming emotion as they entered the park and walked along the path to the bench, bathed in the same twinkling lights it had been last year.
She turned in to his waiting embrace, melding her body against his, laying her cheek on his chest. “Is this going to become a tradition, Cowboy? Most people do things like gingerbread houses or bake Christmas cookies, ya know, not decorate a park. Simple things. Normal things.”
Wyatt dropped a kiss on her nose before leading her to the bench. “We aren’t most people, Angel. We were made to be different. Think about it. Who would ever dream a rhinestone cowboy and a dark angel could possibly be meant to be? And yet…here we are.”
Words were impossible in light of his declaration. Every bit of it was true. They made no sense, but despite everything that should indicate they couldn’t possibly work, they just did.
His hands gripped her, and she noticed for the first time the slight tremble. “I love you, Angel. And even though we’re young, I know I will never love another girl the way I love you. And…dammit, I don’t want to. You are it for me.”
He released her, digging in his front pocket, and pulled out a small, square white box. When she gasped, he quickly started shaking his head. “No, it’s not—I mean, one day it will be, but this isn’t—” He sighed and cleared his throat, lifting the lid. “What I’m trying to say is this isn’t an engagement ring. I love you more than I ever dreamed possible, but even I know better than that.”
She lightly punched his shoulder, desperately needing to add some levity to the situation. “Damn straight you do.”
He slid the silver band, adorned with two small, connected hearts in each of their birthstones, a ruby for Georgia and a sapphire for Wyatt. “Good to hear you know what this isn’t, but what this is is a promise. A promise that I will always love you. A promise that I will always put your needs before my own. A promise that I will try my best to be the kind of man who deserves you.”
Never before had anyone said anything so profound, so meaningful to her.
“Gigi, I want you to wear this to remind you of every one of those promises as well as a seal of all the promises to come. Because I want you in my life today, tomorrow, and forever with every high and low that will bring.”
How he expected her to think, much less speak, she had no idea. She simply nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck, climbing into his lap and getting as close to him as possible without…
Her lips found his, and the thought took hold of her brain and body at the same time. She twisted in his lap until she straddled his thighs, grinding into him. He groaned against her mouth, and she slid her tongue inside, her hands tugging up the flannel shirt under his open coat and diving beneath, desperate to touch his skin.
Their bodies rocked in time with each other in slow, symphonic movements, fingers stealing beneath clothes, finding tender, sensitive places. His mouth left hers to trail down her neck, sucking lightly at the base where her pulse throbbed.
“Please,” the word escaped her mouth on a sob. “Please, Wyatt. I promise I am ready and I love you and…oh hell, please.”
His shallow breathing echoed hers, and she wanted to scream out her
frustration at the shake of his head. “And I love you too, Angel. Too damn much to let our first time be here like this. Too much to allow it to be anything rushed.” His fingers tangled in her hair. “When it’s right, it will be right in every way.”
She groaned and dropped her forehead against his shoulder. “I hate the fact that you insist on everything being perfect and the fact that it makes me love you even more.”
Wyatt laughed and pressed his lips to her temple before setting her back and helping her stand. “Now there’s a first. I usually nail the role of Carlisle family asshole pretty well.”
Georgia stopped on the path out of the park and cupped his face between her palms. “Wyatt, that’s a title you created. No one believes that. Not anyone in your family, your adoring fan club,” she rolled her eyes, “and certainly not me.”
He stared at her for the space of a dozen heartbeats before devouring her mouth in a needy, passionate, desperate kiss. One she was certain she’d remember for the rest of her life.
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
Wyatt
Present Day
He scrubbed a hand over his clean-shaven jaw and ran through the list in his mind again as he slowly buttoned his shirt. The first thing he had done was make sure he had furniture. At least the minimum, round table, two chairs, and a couch. A massive TV was mounted on the wall above the fireplace and was far bigger than he needed, but it was his one indulgence.
Well, the TV and the bed.
That was the one piece of furniture where he didn’t opt for the cheapest model in the showroom. He did his damndest to pick out one that was similar to the ivory tufted headboard she had at her house, only the next line up with a luxurious mattress and decadent bedding in a shockingly warm teal pattern.
At least that’s what the saleswoman at the store had told him. The only thing Wyatt saw when he turned to smooth his hand over the rich material was Gigi tangled in the sheets.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Every day for the past two weeks, he’d arranged with her father to take over the afternoon shift with Gram instead of the home health nurse. He joked with Barry that it was his way of paying him back for working with Wyatt’s own insurance agent in filing the necessary claims to rebuild his finances in the wake of the embezzlement issues while he waited on the law to catch up.
Today he would take the same shift he always did, but with one notable exception. Tonight Paige and Barry had both agreed to take the night shift when Gigi got home. Tonight he was going to remind her of the same thing he told her when they were teenagers; it’s okay to have something for herself. He patted the bulging right front pocket of his jeans with a slightly shaky hand. Tonight…was everything.
The house was in perfect order. His gaze swept over the living room to make sure he’d stashed his work boots away and cleaned up any mud trails they’d left behind. The lingering scent of the freshly laid wooden floors and final coat of paint had dissipated to a much more tolerable trace than it had been earlier this week.
He climbed into his truck, slid on his dark sunglasses, and threw it into drive. Everything was falling into place despite the hiccups and bumps in the road. He snorted. Jim, the damned rat. His fingers absently traced the circle in his pocket as he drove. Even thoughts of his lying, stealing, manipulative former manager couldn’t erase the hope burning in his chest.
Wyatt eased his truck along the curb in front of Gigi’s house and took a deep breath and knocked twice before letting himself in. Something he would have never dreamed of when he was a teenager, but something Barry had insisted on when Wyatt took his own place on the rotating shift of caregivers for Gigi’s grandmother.
The two men exchanged a brief hello, and Barry updated Wyatt on how the morning had gone and let him know that Gram was taking a nap after her physical therapy. He grabbed his laptop case and headed for the door. “I have two meetings, but Paige is going to be here by five just in case I’m running late.”
Wyatt’s lips twitched. “That’s perfect, sir, thank you.”
The older man lifted his brows. “Son, I think it’s high time you start calling me Barry.”
He laughed and nodded at Gigi’s father. Wyatt still called his own dad “sir” and couldn’t see that ever changing for either man. “So noted.”
The afternoon passed at a snail’s pace. Or so he thought because he was certain when he checked the clock five minutes ago it was only three when Paige burst through the door, completely out of breath. “Georgie. Early. Right behind me.”
Wyatt laughed and leaned over to give Gram a peck on the cheek before he stood. A gesture she seemed completely impervious to as her eyes stayed fixed straight ahead on the game show playing on TV. Some days were good, some days not so much, but Wyatt was grateful he had a chance to be here for them all. “She has to ruin all my plans.”
Paige winked and pushed him toward the door. “Not if you haul that jeans model ass of yours out there. Scoot!”
He rolled his eyes but did as he was told and reveled in the start he gave Gigi when he met her on the front porch.
Her eyes moved from his head to his toes and back again. “Going somewhere, Cowboy?”
“Yep.” He tipped the brim of his ever-present hat and held his arm out. “And you’re coming with me.”
Gigi’s face paled, and she shook her head, taking one step back from him, her high heels sinking into the dirt of the front lawn and causing her to curse. “I-I can’t, Wyatt. Gram needs me.”
He took two steps forward and cradled her face in his hands. “Is there ever gonna be a day where you just say, ‘Sure, Wyatt, let’s do whatever you want’ without fighting me? I’ll wait for it. Just give me a date to look forward to.”
A smile curled the corners of her glossy red lips, and her mouth parted slightly. Wyatt groaned from the temptation. The entire time he’d spent helping to care for her grandmother, he never once tried to kiss her or touch her, needing to prove he wanted more than just the sex she initially offered.
The inappropriate comments, however, tended to sprinkle many of their interactions.
“Paige is with Gram, and your dad is going to be home soon too. I promise she’s fine.” He winked. “I covered her in bubble wrap myself.”
Her palms fell on the front of his shirt, and she nodded. “Sure, Wyatt, let’s do whatever you want.”
***
Georgia
“Are you taking me riding, Cowboy?” she playfully teased Wyatt as they pulled alongside the barn.
His brows drew together, and he threw her a bored look. “You ought to know better than to expect a repeat of anything from me by now, Angel.” He winked. “Or at least not in the last decade or so.” With that, he leapt from the truck, rounded the hood, and opened her door, holding one hand out to her. “Ready, Gigi?”
The two words sounded benign to anyone else, but to Georgia they carried a heavy weight. She’d lain in bed every night this week, eluded by sleep and consumed with thoughts of Wyatt. He’d been better than his word. Not only had he unfailingly shown up daily and seamlessly slid into the role of co-caregiver with Georgia, Barry, and Paige, he’d done so with no fanfare, no arrogance, and without laying a freaking hand on her.
That last point was up for debate on whether she appreciated it or hated it.
Never once had he had other plans; never once had he been late. He’d been there. Exactly as he promised.
Paige was right, he wasn’t Bruce. And he wasn’t even the Wyatt that had left, even though that boy would always own a large part of her heart.
He was the man who proved himself reliable and trustworthy. And completely deserving of a second chance. A decision she hadn’t told him, but one she’d made nonetheless. One she had every intention of telling him tonight until he managed to unwittingly highjack her plans.
She pressed her hand into his and slid from the truck. “I’m more than ready.”
Instead of taking her inside the barn, he led her
around to the far corner where they stopped. He produced a blindfold out of his back pocket. “Trust me?”
Without a single doubt or moment’s hesitation, she breathed out her response. “Yes.”
He gingerly placed the material over her eyes and held both her hands in his as they rounded the corner, walked along the side, and turned to the back.
Every molecule of air disappeared from her lungs when he removed the blindfold. A large rectangle was created from railroad ties, and the entire space inside was filled with sand. Two large palm trees were planted at the far corners, and wooden Adirondack chairs sat between them.
His arms wrapped around her from behind. “You give up so much for those you love and do it without a second thought. I want you to have a piece of somewhere you love here, and I want this to be your home.”
He turned her to face him within the space of his arms. “And more than anything, I want to be the one person you count on when everything around you is crazy.” Wyatt leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. “I haven’t always made the best decisions, Angel, but this time I choose to stand by your side and never leave. I choose us.”
Wyatt kissed each wet cheek, and his hands fell from hers to dig in his pocket. He dropped to one knee and held out a breathtaking onyx and diamond ring. “I don’t deserve a second chance, but if you can find it in your heart to give me one, I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life earning it.”
Breathing was difficult, and words were impossible. His actions over the past several weeks had slowly stitched her heart back together in ways she hadn’t realized until this moment. Until it beat so strongly for him, speaking his name with every thump against her ribcage.
“Georgia Lee Marsh, will you marry me?”
Chapter Thirty
Meant To Be Different Page 21