by Ellie Hall
“I could keep it for a souvenir. Something to take home with me after my stay at the ranch.” Charlotte quickly lifted the glass of OJ to her mouth, shocked that the offer had tumbled from her lips.
“I hardly think that’ll accurately depict the highlights of your stay.”
She shrugged suggestively, brazenly. “What made you stop modeling?”
Wyatt turned off the oven burner and served them both up. He sat down and rested his head in his hands. “I hardly slept. Thinking about everything, including the answer to that question.”
“What do you mean?”
“I left that world after my father passed away and learned that I not only inherited the responsibility of the ranch but the management of my granddad’s wealth.”
“I’m sorry you lost him.”
“Me too. Nearly every day. So trust me when I tell you that you’re not alone.”
He referred to Sydney and that ache knocked hard on her heart, but she was listening to Wyatt’s story and ignored its call, at least right then.
“My father grew up here, at the ranch. It had always been modest—this monstrosity is my addition.” Wyatt gestured around the space. “Actually, this is the original location of the kitchen. But if I was going to spend a lot of time here, I needed to be able to spread out. That’s what happens when you get used to traveling around the world. Small spaces no longer fit right.”
He was a rather large man, but his emotions after the long night seemed even bigger than his well-built figure.
“My father grew up here, then met my mother. They never married and my grandfather frowned upon that, but they had my brother and me. When I was nine, Nash died in a rodeo accident. Our mother left after that. My father became depressed and an alcoholic. He was never quite the same. Because of his drinking problem, my grandfather refused to help him when he lost his job. My father grew incredibly bitter, particularly, as I later found out, about how my granddad had made a fortune in oil and invested well. He didn’t share any of it with my father though because he disagreed with some of my father’s habits.”
“I don’t have words. How heartbreaking.”
“I managed to finish high school a year early and took off. Soon, I was discovered as a model, and never looked back, until I learned my grandfather had died. Even then, I couldn’t come back. There was too much here that hurt. It’s my biggest regret.”
“But you did come back.”
“It was too late. I only returned when my father died and realized I was the last one left in the line of men in my family.”
“Have you seen your mother?”
“No, she moved to Louisiana, I think. I imagine after losing Nash it was too hard for her to look at me without thinking of her other son. You see, he was the favorite. I was just the runt.”
Charlotte looked him up and down. “A runt?”
Wyatt smirked. “Well, back then. By the time I returned, the ranch had fallen to ruin. I didn’t think there was anything left for me here. I went to the church, paid my respects, and a lawyer approached, asked me to come by his office. Long story short, after a lot of hurdles, including going back to college so I could fully understand what was mine and how to best manage and protect it, I inherited the ranch.” He cleared his throat. “And Granddad’s other assets.”
“And brought the ranch back to life.”
“I take in the old horses in honor of my granddad. I should’ve been there for him at the end. My father too, even though he didn’t give two bits about me.”
“Wyatt, that can’t be true.”
“No, he said those exact words. He didn’t care about his father either. Instead of taking care of him, he drank what remained of his life away.”
“How tragic.” Without thinking, she reached for his hand and that time, gripped tightly.
“But it has a good ending. I learned from all those mistakes—my own and my father’s. Life is short. While I’ve opted for the quiet, simple life, I give the horses what I couldn’t give my family.”
“That’s beautiful.”
“Although I’m broken up over Spearmint, he’s with Granddad now. I have no doubt the two are whooping it up, having a grand old time.”
“You believe he forgave you?”
“Actually, it was last night when I forgave myself. It was what you said about learning from our mistakes. It really struck me. Thank you, Charlotte.” A ripple of understanding passed between them.
“Glad I could help.”
“So, what about your family life?” he asked after a pause.
“You know about my father. Maman, my mother, was French. She was wonderful in so many ways.”
“Will never talked about her.”
“No, he wouldn’t. It was too hard for him for so many years. In fact, we both owe it to Birdie for helping us through our grief even though she’d never known her grandmother. She’d ask us to tell her stories and it was through doing that, and many tears, we were able to fully process our grief. Well, as much as one does.”
“She’s a special girl, that Birdie.”
Charlotte smiled because it was true. Despite her trouble with Montgomery, Birdie was the biggest blessing. “When Maman was sick, Will checked out. You know, mentally, emotionally. He couldn’t handle it. It was mine to bear alone. I’ve forgiven him. At the time it was so hard. I was young and scared. We’d never had much money so it was hard when she’d needed extra care. That’s when I got into the habit of working three jobs.”
“But you realize you don’t have to anymore.”
“You never know when you’ll need more to pay for medical bills and—” Charlotte gestured vaguely.
“Will didn’t help? Surely, at that point, he had plenty to spare.”
Charlotte wrung her hands. “I wouldn’t let him or rather, ask him. I didn’t want him to see me struggling. He was having a tough enough time on his own. Plus, I was angry.”
Wyatt nodded and thought for a moment. “Much like your brother, I have a vast amount of wealth. In fact, I think I’m on an internet list with the label cowboy billionaire.” He chuckled. “Money isn’t always the solution. In some ways, it makes things easier, like providing the best care for the horses. But in others, things get complicated. But when I run into difficulty in making a decision, I always ask myself what would Granddad do.”
She understood what he was saying. What would Sydney do?
Chapter 18
Wyatt
The night before had been difficult. Not only because Wyatt lost Spearmint. Having Charlotte at the ranch and involved in his life triggered something deep inside him. Something he had to wrestle with in the small hours otherwise he risked overstepping the boundaries he’d created.
He couldn’t help analyze how the past influenced the present. He’d even reached out to Will, who didn’t reply because he was probably merrily on his honeymoon. Wyatt wasn’t sure how much more self-control he had. He approached the situation from every angle imaginable and only had two choices. To stay away from Charlotte or…not. He was leaning heavily toward the latter.
But right then, the best thing to do was to get her out of her adorable pajamas with her fuzzy bed head and sleepy smile and into day clothes. They’d hit the trails—it had always worked as a distraction before.
“How about we attempt a long, relaxing ramble through the hills on horseback again? No rain in the forecast today. Also, there was something I didn’t get to show you yesterday because of the weather,” Wyatt said.
Charlotte stood to clean up the dishes. He insisted she go back to her room to get ready. He didn’t add that if she didn’t leave the kitchen, he truly risked doing something he’d regret—and it didn’t involve giving her a piece of chocolate, though it shared a name with the common candy brand.
After grabbing supplies for a picnic, Wyatt left the house. Norm was in the barn, gazing solemnly into Spearmint’s empty stall.
Charlotte hadn’t come down yet, giving him a few more mi
nutes to contemplate his next move and what it meant.
“It’s tough work, saving a life, becoming attached, then saying goodbye,” Norm said into the emptiness. The older man clapped his hand on Will’s shoulder.
“True enough. It never does get easier, does it?”
“In a way, now that Spearmint is more comfortable in horse heaven, there’s a vacant stall.” Norm’s eyes sparkled. “She’s one lucky lady, getting a first-class ride over here and all.”
“Nothing but the best.”
“For horses and…” Norm trailed off as Charlotte walked into the barn, backlit by the sun.
It would’ve been one of those moments to let out a low whistle, but Wyatt had a will of steel and resisted even though he had to bite his tongue.
Her boots kicked up little clouds of dust as she walked toward them with her hands tucked in her back pockets. Her silhouette in jean shorts and a tank set Wyatt’s skin on fire, and the tilt of her head, wearing his cowboy hat, practically made him jump out of his boots.
“If I were a younger man…” Norm started.
“Not a chance,” Wyatt growled, but he knew Norm was joking. However, he was not. Charlotte, for all her proper British propriety and sensibilities, was smoking hot.
“Hello there, little lady,” Norm said. “Charity is ready for you.”
“We just have to get Kingston tacked up.” Wyatt made quick work of saddling the horse and the two set out. All the while, Wyatt could hardly keep his eyes off Charlotte.
The sky was clear blue and endless. The horses well rested and ready for riding. For Wyatt, the new day brought a renewed sense of purpose and he hoped the surprise he had in store for Charlotte during their ride, and later on, would make her happy. Loss taught him the best thing he could do with his time and resources was to bring others comfort and joy while he was able.
As they came up over a rise, the flower fields stretched in every direction. He halted Kingston at the top of the hill, leaving enough room for Charity to come up beside them. Charlotte’s breath caught when she took in the view. The wildflowers were in full bloom, painting the land in marigold and crimson, indigo and lavender.
“It’s like a painting.”
“This is what I did after I stopped modeling, after I lost my granddad and then my father. I came here and planted seeds.”
“They grew into something beautiful.” The corners of her eyes pinched together and her chin trembled.
“Let’s wade in,” Wyatt said, guiding Kingston down the trail and into the field. Charity followed and when they got to the bottom, they dismounted.
Charlotte spun in a circle with her arms wide. “It’s unreal.”
Wyatt grinned, wishing he could capture the moment on film. He was glad it had the intended effect, not because he wanted to impress her, but in much the same way the sea of flowers had done for him, she was clearly moved.
“That first year, I wasn’t sure they were going to sprout. Sure enough, they pushed through the dirt, seeking the sunshine.” He recalled Sydney’s message on Charlotte’s phone.
Her lips parted. Then she stepped deeper among the bluebonnets and phlox, the verbena that reminded him of a watercolor, and the bold lantana.
He followed, toting the picnic. When she stopped, stunned by the endless waves of flowers, he asked, “Are you hungry?”
She nodded. “And definitely thirsty.”
He passed her a sparkling water.
Meanwhile, the horses wandered over to the creek that split Wyatt’s land. He spread a blanket on a grassy clearing and they both sat down.
“I feel like I’m in a wildflower pool. I can see why you like to spend time here. It’s so special.”
She picked up a slice of watermelon and a piece of hair came loose from the tie she held it back in. He tucked it behind her hear. “You’re special, Charlotte.”
Their gazes met and he didn’t have to look at his reflection in a mirror to know his eyes smoldered. Hers blazed with something that had nothing to do with the sun beating down on the two of them lounging on the picnic blanket.
“That’s sweet of you, Wyatt.” Her cheeks caught a blush.
“I know we both have our reasons for not wanting to be involved—” He cleared his throat. Even though he’d thought about what to say countless times, it was still unfamiliar territory and difficult to talk about. With a strong, independent woman like Charlotte, there was no telling how she’d respond.
“You told me yesterday you had three reasons that you didn’t like to talk about your marriage but only gave two.”
He nodded and swallowed hard. “My ex made me question a lot of things. I’m ashamed because it goes against what I know to be true about love.”
“Remember, we learn and grow from our experiences,” she said gently.
“How do we do that now?” he asked. “I’m Will’s best friend and you’re his sister.” There, he’d finally put it on the table, or picnic blanket, as it were.
She bristled. “Wyatt Jones, you have to stop thinking of me only as Will’s sister. I’m Charlotte Wheaton. I’m my own person.”
“Darlin’ I stopped thinking of you as Will’s sister quite a few paces back. He’d kill me if he knew that so I just keep telling myself that you’re off limits.”
“As I said, I make my own choices about what I do and who I do it with. My brother may look out for me but—” She tipped her chin up.
“And ask me to look out for you…” He wasn’t sure how that would go over, but he had to be honest with her.
“I understand that. This is only a risk if you intend to hurt me.” She gestured to him and back again. Then it was true, she felt the smoldering between them, waiting for one gust of wind to set it ablaze.
“I would never hurt you,” he breathed. That was the truth.
“Then you believe in forever?” Her words were measured, careful as though she didn’t want to suggest their future involved forever. There was a chance it could. Nothing about Charlotte made him think fling or throwaway romance, not that he was that kind of guy. However, he had been once.
“Under certain circumstances.” His chest pounded. He was a grown man, a cowboy, and yet that woman made his heart race.
“What about these circumstances? The two of us, sitting in a field surrounded by nature, by beauty. Just the two of us and the infinite.” She gestured to the sky. Her voice was like poetry.
“If it’s only us.”
“Only us,” she repeated, leaning closer.
“So you fancy snogs and kisses?” His gaze dipped to her lips. He wanted to kiss her so badly.
“Yes, Wyatt.” Her voice was a whisper he could feel on his skin.
“I don’t mean frozen yogurt or candies.” His voice was laced with desire.
“I know that.” She moved closer still.
“Then that means I can—” His eyes caught hers, stunning pools that matched the sky.
“You can.” Two simple words.
His chest lifted and lowered as he fought an internal battle. He had her permission. Not Will’s. “At the fountain in London, this is what I wished for. This moment. It was just a wish.” He was desperate to embrace her, to feel her softness meet his rough-around-the-edges exterior.
“Sometimes wishes come true.”
“You’re so contained, in control. But I can’t trust myself around you.” He gritted his teeth.
“I have kissed you in my mind a thousand times, at least.” Her lips quirked.
“I haven’t kissed you because I’m afraid I won't be able to stop.” There it was. He was losing his grip. He knew that once his lips landed on hers right then might turn into forever.
“Then what are you waiting for?” Her eyes, her lips, her everything was a tease and a demand at the same time.
“I don’t want to ruin anything.” The feeling pulsing between them was mutual, but once they crossed the line there’d be no turning back.
“Then don’t. Let’s stop talking
about it and—”
His lips landed on hers and for him, the connection was instant. It was atomic.
Chapter 19
Charlotte
Wyatt’s lips met Charlotte’s with both confidence and demand and yet the kiss was soft, slow as he gently worked her bottom lip and then moved to the top. His hands were on her low back, inviting her closer and she planted her palms against the rim of his neck.
Her mind raced to catch up with her heart. Was that really happening? Were they really kissing? She hardly believed it. For Charlotte, it had been so long. She hardly remembered the last time she’d kissed a man. She followed Wyatt’s cues as he applied gentle pressure with his mouth against hers. The fire in their chests had been lit and flames licked her mind, searing away worry and doubt. But as the heat increased, she pulled back, meeting his eyes.
“Are we doing this?”
The back of his finger brushed her jawline and his eyes flared, adding kindling to the fire.
“It seems we are.” He reached for her wrist and kissed the delicate skin. “But we can move more slowly.” He twined his fingers in hers then gave her a peck on her bare shoulder, the dip in her collar bone, and worked his way up her neck then back to her lips. “We can do this how ever you’d like.”
“I guess I just needed to catch my breath.” Her legs trembled even though she was seated. “Yes, let’s go slow.” It wasn’t because she was nervous. Rather, she never wanted it to end so she intended to relish each moment.
Birds called in the distance and the sun was hot on her skin. Surrounded by the flowers, the setting was perfect, a dream.
Charlotte wanted Wyatt and his kiss more than anything she’d ever wanted. Her mind clouded, giving way to pure desire. She ran her hands over the taut skin stretched across the firm muscles of his chest. She planted her lips on the soft spot behind his ear and moved under his jaw, before balling his shirt in her fist and tugging him closer as she kissed him once more.
Wyatt let out a deep groan and with that, the kiss detonated. Charlotte had never experienced such a blaze of desire or perfection as his lips mashed against hers. It was a give and take, a kiss and be kissed, the just right amount of moving in and pulling back. It was like their lips were made for each other. The sensations were almost overwhelming, like staring into firelight, but the warmth flooding her, melting her, made it impossible for her to stop.