She thought about warning him that most likely the house would be a mess and her dad would be roaming around in his “lab coat” which was really a ratty white bathrobe he loved to wear. If they were lucky, he wouldn’t offer them something to eat. His food inventions usually combined ingredients never meant to coexist.
But she decided against issuing any warnings or making any defensive statements. The less she said about her father at this point, the more she’d discover what kind of guy Wyatt really was.
Chapter Twelve
Wyatt carried a tow chain in his truck and the road had dried enough that hauling Olivia’s Jeep out of the ditch didn’t take long at all. She seemed impressed with his efficiency, and he didn’t mind winning more points, but it wasn’t a particularly heroic feat.
He felt meeting her dad would be a much bigger test of his worthiness. Yeah, he was a little apprehensive about that. If it had been up to him, he would have put the moment off a while longer. Then again, maybe it was a good thing to get out of the way.
Deciding to pick up his clothes from the Bunk and Grub on the way back to the ranch, he followed Olivia to her house, a neat little two-story Victorian on a side street a block away from Shoshone’s central business district. On a Sunday afternoon, the streets were deserted.
He parked behind Olivia in the driveway next to the house. The place was old enough to have a detached garage, but someone had kept the property in tip-top shape. The house was painted a sunny yellow with white trim. Two hanging baskets of petunias brightened the front porch area, along with a couple of white wicker rockers.
Wyatt liked the whole rocker-on-the-porch concept, although he still hadn’t taken advantage of the ones at the ranch. He couldn’t complain, though. He’d much rather have spent the morning having hot sex with Olivia than lounging on the porch at the Last Chance.
She climbed down from her Jeep and then pulled her totes out. “We can walk to my dad’s from here,” she said. “I called him from the road, and I’m afraid he insisted on making us lunch. I tried to talk him out of it, but in the end it was easier just to agree.”
“That’s fine.” He had a hunch that an eccentric genius might come up with some oddball food items, but at least the guy sounded hospitable. Good thing Wyatt had a cast-iron stomach.
“I appreciate you being flexible. I just need to put the totes inside. Come on in and see the place.”
“Thanks.” He followed her over to the small porch. He was curious as to what her house would look like.
“I’m still getting settled.” She opened the screen door and shoved the key in the lock. “I didn’t bring much with me from Pittsburgh. What I had wasn’t really worth moving, the kind of second-hand stuff you buy when you’re starting out.”
“Right.” He’d have to take her word for it. When he’d moved into his first apartment, his mother had insisted he take all the rec room furniture, which she pronounced “ruined” after the one and only party he’d had for friends after graduating from college. One coffee table had a slight scratch. Technically it was second-hand, but not the way Olivia meant it.
He followed her through the front door with its leaded-glass insert and found himself in a room full of rainbows. Sunlight streamed through the living room windows and the faceted crystals she had hanging in them.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
“Cheap decorating. It kind of makes up for the lack of furniture.”
“Yeah, but what you have is great.” An overstuffed sofa covered in denim with a couple of colorful throw pillows was the only piece in the room other than a cabinet holding a small flat-screen TV. It was what Wyatt thought of as a make-out couch — long, wide, and cushy.
Too bad he and Olivia had other things to do. He had no trouble imagining how he could draw her down on those plump cushions and coax her out of her clothes. He still had a condom burning a hole in his pocket, too.
“We should go,” she said gently. “I told my dad we were on our way.”
He snapped out of his erotic daze.
Olivia had put down her totes and was gazing at him with amusement.
“Sorry. But it’s a great sofa.”
“I thought so when I bought it.”
He decided there was no point in being subtle. “I was thinking about how much fun we could have on it.”
“I could tell.”
He noticed that her eyes were about the same color as the sofa. She’d look awesome lying naked on it. “I want to kiss you so much right now, but if I do, it would lead to the sofa. So let’s head out the door before my self-control disintegrates and I grab you.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
He felt very noble as he followed her out the door. “Going to lock it?”
“Nope. That’s another thing I love about this place. I can run down to my dad’s for a while and not worry about locking up. When I’m going to be gone longer than that, I usually lock the door, just so the wind won’t blow it open and let in the birds and the squirrels. But I don’t worry about thieves.”
Wyatt took her hand as they started down the tree-shaded sidewalk. “I’d like living like that. It’s not an option in my apartment building in San Francisco.”
“I can’t picture you in the city.”
“I’m not there much. I always figured it was as good a home base as any for Adventure Trekking, since most of my clients come through my website. I’ve never thought it mattered where I lived, but then again, I never look forward to going home, either.”
“It’s good to have a place that welcomes you when you walk through the door.”
“You’ve certainly accomplished that.”
She laughed. “I didn’t realize how seductive that sofa was until you stepped inside my living room. Suddenly all I could think about was rolling around on it with you.”
“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one with a one-track mind.” He squeezed her hand. “But if I’m about to meet your father, I need to get that image out of my head. In my experience, dads have a sixth sense for identifying guys with designs on their daughters.”
“Not mine. He assumes that if I allowed you into my life, then you’re a-okay.”
“So he trusts you.” Wyatt now understood why a disparaging remark about her father would cause Olivia to cut that person off at the knees. With the unwavering confidence her dad had placed in her, she wasn’t about to let him be hurt by an unkind comment.
“He does trust me,” she said. “And I don’t take that lightly.”
“I’m sure not.” He loved how the sunlight brought out little flecks of gold in her blue eyes. “I’m having another one of those I want to kiss you moments.”
She reached up and pressed her finger gently against his mouth. “Later,” she murmured as she came to a halt on the sidewalk. “We’re here.”
The brick bungalow wasn’t as cheerful looking as Olivia’s house, but the front yard was neat and the front porch had a swing. The front door was painted dark purple.
“Interesting door,” Wyatt said cautiously as they approached the house.
“Dad’s choice. He thinks it’s a good color for wizardry.”
“Ah.” Wyatt hoped to hell he was up for this. “So do you knock on the door, or say magic words, or what?”
“Nothing. He knows we’re here and he’ll open the door.”
“He was watching at the window?”
“Nope. We just tripped a laser beam about six inches above the top porch step. It sounds a chime inside the house.”
The purple door opened, and Wyatt decided that Olivia’s father was indeed a wizard, or at least a good impersonation of one. Tall and thin, he wore a long white robe and black sandals. His white hair puffed out from his head like dandelion seeds about to take flight. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on his long nose and brought Wyatt’s attention to piercing blue eyes. All the man needed was a staff topped with a dragon’s head and he could audition for a Lord of the Rings production.
“Hi, Da
d.” Olivia stepped forward and kissed his cheek. “This is Wyatt Locke, the guy who pulled me out of a ditch this morning. Wyatt, I’d like you to meet my father, Grover Sedgewick.”
Wyatt stuck out his hand. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Sedgewick. Or is it Professor Sedgewick?”
“Nope, nope.” His grip was firm. “Dropped out of college. Never could get the hang of academia. And call me Grover, son. It sounds friendlier. Come on in. Lunch is ready.”
Wyatt followed Olivia into a house that smelled sharp and tangy, as if it had been soaked in vinegar. The living room was chaotic, with papers and books scattered on the floor and covering the furniture. Stirring classical music played in the background, the kind with lots of drums and French horns.
Interspersed with the books and papers Wyatt caught glimpses of gadgets — creations involving wires and batteries and strangely shaped pieces of metal. The only orderly surface he could find was the wall opposite the front door.
There, marching in neat rows in an area at least four by eight feet, were framed pictures of Olivia from babyhood to womanhood. A few looked quite recent. Then the display moved on to certificates from elementary school through high school for things like spelling bees, making the honor roll, and good citizenship. Wyatt had never seen more touching evidence of parental pride than this.
“That’s my girl.” Grover swept a hand toward the wall, just in case Wyatt might have missed it. “She’s a corker.”
“Yes, sir, she is.” Wyatt couldn’t help smiling. Corker was an old-fashioned word, but it fit Olivia.
Instead of being embarrassed because her father insisted on splashing her early history all over his living room wall, she simply put her arm around him and gave him a hug. “Thanks, Dad.” She gazed at him with fondness. “You’re a corker, too.”
As she stood serenely in this disaster of a house with a father who greeted a guest in his bathrobe, Wyatt looked at her with new respect and admiration. He’d always known this was a woman he could like, and certainly a woman he could lust after. At that moment, he realized she was also a woman he could love.
They ate in the dining room, where Olivia’s father had cleared off enough of the papers to make room for three plates. Olivia watched Wyatt swallow a hot dog and peanut butter concoction without a grimace or a complaint. He didn’t flinch when her father brought out his “bug juice” as a complement to the meal, even though it was a ghastly shade of blue.
Lunch was a slightly larger test than she’d planned on, but she was impressed with how Wyatt soldiered cheerfully through the meal. After having suffered through her dad’s cooking all her life, she knew the food could have been worse. She was relieved that today’s lunch was at least recognizable.
Conversation revolved around Wyatt’s job and his reason for coming to the area. Her dad seemed pleased that Wyatt was Jack Chance’s half-brother and might end up moving to Shoshone. Because her dad wasn’t privy to community gossip, he didn’t know that Wyatt and Jack’s mother was persona non grata in town. Wyatt didn’t bring that up, which kept the tone positive, the way her father preferred it.
As the meal wound to a close, her dad glanced over at Wyatt. “You strike me as a chess-playing man.”
Wyatt sent Olivia a questioning look.
She held up both hands. “I didn’t mention it. If my dad likes somebody, he usually asks if they play chess.”
Wyatt seemed pleased with that. “As a matter of fact, Grover, I play a little.”
“Care for a game?”
Olivia crossed her fingers. If her father suggested a chess game, that meant he wanted to get to know Wyatt better. Her dad believed in learning about people by observing them during a chess match.
Once again Wyatt glanced at Olivia. “Okay with you?”
She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter one way or the other. “Sure.”
“All right, then, Grover. Let’s set up the board.”
Olivia relaxed. She hadn’t realized until that moment how tense she’d felt as she’d watched the two men interact. But it would be okay. Anyone who could eat her dad’s cooking with as much grace as Wyatt had could also handle being annihilated in a chess game.
To her surprise and delight, Wyatt played a decent first game. Her father still beat him handily, but then, her father beat everyone handily. A couple of times in the twenty years she’d been playing him, she’d come really close to winning a game. Anyone who could give her father even a slight challenge was aces in his book.
In the second game, Wyatt actually managed to make her father pause and stroke his chin, a sign that he didn’t immediately know his next move. Olivia gazed at Wyatt with new respect. Not many accomplished that.
“Did I stump you, Grover?” Wyatt took another sip of his blue drink.
“Momentarily.” Her dad studied the board. “Aha.” Then he proceeded to take command of the game once again.
As Wyatt went down in flames for the second time, taking his defeat without excuses and complimenting her dad on his playing, Olivia longed to wrap her arms around this amazing guy and hold on tight. She thought of the way he’d looked at her sofa, and glanced at the time on her phone. The afternoon was getting away from them.
“I hate to break this up.” She thought the lie was forgivable under the circumstances. “But Wyatt and I need to get moving if we’re going to finish our other little chores before we head back to the ranch for dinner.”
Wyatt pushed back his chair. “Guess so.” He held out his hand to her dad. “You’re a tough competitor, and I’m looking forward to a rematch.”
“Any time.” Her dad stood. “Any friend of Olivia’s is a friend of mine.”
“She mentioned that, and I feel lucky that she considers me a friend.”
Her dad nodded, his white hair bobbing. “You are lucky. I need to warn you that she’s picky, though. She’s given three men the boot already, back when we lived in Pittsburgh.”
“Because they were jerks,” Olivia said. She hadn’t told her father the exact reason she’d broken up with all three of those guys, and she didn’t intend to.
“I think there was a little more to it than that,” her father said with a smile. “But I guess it helps if you don’t act like a jerk.”
“I’ll do my best not to, sir.”
“I hope so. I’d like to keep you on as a chess partner. Now run along, both of you. I know you have things to do. Thanks for spending some time with an old man.”
“You’re not old, Dad.” Olivia gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You’re timeless. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I’d like that.”
Once they were out the door, Olivia laced her fingers through Wyatt’s. “Thank you. You were terrific.” Terrific didn’t even cover it. He’d passed this test with flying colors, but she had to be careful not to overdo her compliments or he might suspect he’d been set up.
“You say that like I was making some sort of sacrifice. I had a blast.”
“Well, I could see you were engaged in the chess game, and he is an outstanding player, but I can’t believe you were okay with the food.”
Wyatt laughed. “It was like being back at Scout camp when we used to dream up every gross combination we could think of. I’m pretty sure we had hot dogs and peanut butter once. It tasted very familiar.”
“You really didn’t mind it?”
“Hell, no! Even the bug juice made me nostalgic for those days at camp. Considering my home life, I loved camp. One of the counselors taught us how to play chess. I was in my element just now.”
She hadn’t expected that kind of response in a million years. “Then maybe I shouldn’t have dragged you away.”
“Oh, yeah, you should.”
“But if you were having so much fun, you probably wanted to stay and wallow in nostalgia some more.”
“I might have, if I hadn’t also known there was a certain cushy sofa waiting for us over at your house.”
Now she felt better. “You think
that’s why I suggested we had to leave? So we could roll around naked on that sofa?”
“I hope so, because if that’s not what you have in mind, then I’m going back for another game of chess with your dad.”
She tightened her grip on his fingers. “My dad’s had his time with you. Now it’s my turn.”
Chapter Thirteen
Olivia’s pulse rate had skyrocketed by the time she and Wyatt reached her front door. “We’ll have to lower the blinds,” she said.
“I’ll leave that to you.” His voice was low and urgent. “I’m feeling so desperate I might pull the damned blind right out of the window casing, and then what would we do?”
“Go back to my bedroom.” Nothing was going to stop her from having her way with him.
“Maybe we should do that in the first place. Just because I have an image of you naked on that sofa, doesn’t mean—”
“Yes, it does. Anybody can do it on a bed.” She drew him through the door. “Let’s make some memories on the sofa.”
“Yeah, let’s.” Shoving the door closed with his booted foot, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her feverishly as he began divesting her of her clothes. He behaved as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
“The blinds…” she gasped between kisses. “We have to… ”
“I know. In a minute. I just need to—” Pulling her T-shirt over her head, he unhooked her bra.
“You’re crazy,” she murmured, but she was just as busy unsnapping his shirt and running both hands up his lightly furred chest. “I love how you feel.”
“I love how you feel, more.” Cupping her breasts, he leaned down and sucked an aching nipple into his mouth.
She forgot all about the blinds. Nothing mattered but his hands, his mouth, his tongue. They wriggled out of their clothes, laughing as her zipper stuck and his boots refused to come off his feet. Her zipper finally gave way but his boots weren’t so cooperative.
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