Doing It Over (A Most Likely to Novel Book 1)

by Catherine Bybee

  “That’s crap—”

  She waved off Wyatt’s comment. “Doesn’t matter. They’re screaming self-defense and you yourself said you tried to stop the fight, Wyatt. Putting your hands on someone first.”

  “But—”

  She stopped him with a hand in the air. “It’s all a ‘he said, he said’ game. Comes down to one thing . . . are you pressing charges?” Jo looked between them. “And before you answer, know that if you press charges, they will press charges, and Josie will have to go that route as well. Right now she’s willing to let it rest as long as you guys promise to repair the damage.”

  “Even those yahoos out there?” Matt asked.

  Jo shrugged her shoulders. “Everyone is booked, or no one is booked.”

  Wyatt hedged his arm toward Luke, nodded at Matt. “We’ll make sure Josie’s taken care of.”

  “Good choice,” Jo said before twisting around and marching out of the room.

  It took ten minutes for Jo to clear out the bikers and return to them. Matt’s wife promptly stormed out of the station, her husband in tow.

  When it was just the four of them in the room alone, Jo shook her finger at both of them. “Don’t ever make me fucking arrest you. Damn, Luke . . . what were you thinking?”

  “I’m blaming the liquor.”

  “It’s not even midnight,” Jo pointed out.

  “Yeah. It won’t happen again, Jo.”

  Melanie saw a cloud pass over Luke’s eyes and she knew the reason behind the alcohol.

  “And you,” Jo pointed at Wyatt.

  Wyatt didn’t offer a liquor excuse. “Can’t watch a friend take a beating, Jo. If you need to cuff me, do it. I won’t hold it against you.”

  Jo’s chest heaved with every breath she took. “Take them home, Mel.”

  Then she was gone.

  Melanie dropped Luke off first since he lived close, then drove Wyatt to R&B’s to retrieve his truck.

  A sign on the door said the bar was closed until further notice.

  Mel parked next to Wyatt’s truck. “Is it that bad in there?” she asked.

  “It didn’t look good.”

  Wyatt didn’t rush to leave Miss Gina’s van.

  “Luke was torn up about Zoe, wasn’t he?”

  Wyatt shrugged. “Man code.”

  She grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Take it however you need to, darlin’.”

  “I guess it’s probably good you were here then.”

  “Tell my head that in the morning.”

  “Is it bad?”

  A mischievous smile spread over his face. “Might have a concussion.”

  She regarded him with caution. “A concussion.”

  “Yeah, the kind that needs someone to keep me awake all night.”

  “Holy . . . you did not just say that.”

  He laughed and opened the door. “C’mon, give me a hand with Luke’s bike.”

  She followed him out in the cool night, let the headlights of Miss Gina’s van light the parking lot.

  Wyatt removed a ladder from the side of his truck and used it as a ramp for Luke’s motorcycle.

  Melanie helped with the straps to keep it in place before Wyatt closed the tailgate. “That should do it.”

  She wiped the dust from her hands. “You’re okay from here?” she asked.

  Wyatt leaned against his truck and crooked his finger his way. “C’mere.”

  She took a step closer, felt the energy change between them. When she was close enough, he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Jo’s my best friend,” she offered.

  His grin spread. “Right.”

  Melanie leaned her head into the palm of his hand that lingered on her face. When he stepped closer, she met him halfway and lifted on her toes to reach his kiss.

  Who knew the swelling in her belly could explode with such a simple touch. But Wyatt’s kiss unleashed a crash of feeling she couldn’t describe. With a moan, she closed her eyes and pressed her tongue against the edge of his lips.

  Wyatt opened for her and took control. He spread his hands along her back and pulled her flush against his body. From knees to lips, he was everywhere. His hands took their time caressing her waist before finding the edges of her breasts.

  Her knees buckled and Wyatt turned and sandwiched her between him and the truck. The hardness of him pressed against her stomach, giving all the evidence she needed of her effect on him. And she liked it. Only when she filled her palm with the globe of his firm butt did Wyatt pull away from her lips with a groan. “Come home with me,” he whispered.

  She wanted to . . .

  “The inn has guests. Hope . . . Miss Gina.”

  Wyatt leaned his forehead against hers and winced.

  “Poor baby,” she said, giggling.

  For a moment he just held her and didn’t attempt to kiss her again.

  “We should probably go.”

  He gave one more lingering kiss before releasing his hold.

  With weak knees and a speeding heart, Melanie slid behind the wheel of the van and let Wyatt close the door behind her.

  “Thanks again,” he said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He tapped the side of the van as she drove away.

  “I suddenly don’t feel so bad.” Wyatt took one look at Luke and winced. Purple was the predominant color of his face with a bright bluish-red spot on the left of his head. If you didn’t know Luke, you might not catch the extent of swelling, but you’d definitely know he didn’t look right.

  “I can’t tell how much of this is hangover or broken crap underneath.”

  The hour rounded on noon, removing some of the hangover time Luke suggested.

  R&B’s would normally hold a handful of people at this hour but today held only a small crew destined to serve their community service for a night of crime. At least that was how Wyatt painted the picture in his brain.

  “There you are.” Josie walked from the bar, hands on hips, attitude in her stride. “I thought I was going to have to call Jo.”

  While Josie’s words were stern, her smile was anything but.

  “Cut the crap, Josie,” Luke told her as he made his way up the steps to the bar and pulled her into a half hug.

  “You look like someone drug you behind their truck on a rope for a good ten miles.”

  “That’s about how I feel.”

  Josie nudged his hip with her own. “I probably should have cut you off.”

  “I doubt that would have helped,” Wyatt said. “The place was charged last night.”

  Josie had her long brown hair twisted into a braid. Her jean shorts shouldn’t look as good as they did on a woman in her midforties, but Wyatt had to admit, they did. “Matt’s inside cleaning up.”

  “I’m going to make a run to the Eugene hardware store when I leave here. Try and get you back up and running by tomorrow night.”

  Luke was already inside, Wyatt right behind him.

  Matt stood in the center of the room with a broom. Some of the tables that still had all their legs had been placed to rights. Those that couldn’t be salvaged were still where last night’s fight had left them. A big pile of glass had been mounded up on the floor, the smell of stale beer more pungent than on any given Saturday night.

  Luke let out a long-winded whistle. “I didn’t remember it being this bad.”

  “You were drunk,” Josie reminded him.

  Wyatt placed a hand on Josie’s back. “I’m really sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry . . . if I hadn’t asked you to stick around until Jo got here, this might not have happened.”

  Wyatt had already considered that. “It is what it is, darlin’.”

  Jo
sie offered a smile. “I’ve already ordered replacement glassware. There’s a restaurant and bar warehouse in Eugene that supplies my tables and I’ve already given them a call. If you can go and pick them up, that would be great.”

  For the next hour, Wyatt, Matt, and Luke cleared out the dozen tables and chairs that were unsavable, cleaned the room, and mopped up the liquor that had fallen in sheets on the walls and stuck.

  Wyatt took note of a couple of holes in the walls. A little drywall and paint would show up the rest of the bar. It was really hard for him to do anything halfway, but since Josie was already paying for the broken glassware and helping with the tables and chairs, it was the right thing to do. He already knew Luke would be on board with helping with the manual labor.

  Outside, the gravel kicked up from the parking lot, which prompted Josie to step out while they finished the cleanup.

  “Lunch is here,” Josie said when she walked back in.

  Melanie had her hair pulled into a tight ponytail, and her short shorts hid enough of her ass to keep him guessing, but not enough to think she was trying to hide something.

  He licked his lips and leaned the broom in his hands against the wall.

  Hope ran in behind her mom and wrapped an arm around Wyatt’s waist before he could say hello. Her tiny arms felt strange and strangely comforting. “Mommy said you were hurt.”

  He knelt down and leveled his face with hers. “I’m okay.”

  Hope’s tiny smile fell and her hand reached to touch the tender spot above his eye. Wyatt held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t push too hard and make him wince.

  He didn’t need to worry.

  “That looks bad.”

  He glanced at Melanie, who was watching the exchange. “Your mom took good care of me.”

  Hope leaned in, lowered her voice. “Did she put that stingy stuff on you?”

  Wyatt made a silly face and nodded.

  “We should probably take that away from her, huh?”

  Holding back his laugh at the seriousness of Hope’s face was the most difficult thing he’d ever done.

  After swallowing hard, he bit his lip and said, “I think the stingy stuff helps clean cuts and stuff.”

  Hope pushed out her lower lip. “But it hurts.”

  “Yeah. It sure does.”

  There was an argument stuck between Hope’s brain and her mouth, but she held it in and pressed her lips to Wyatt’s forehead.

  “Kissing it better.”

  The tiny punch in his heart was unexpected.

  He patted her head as he stood, left an arm on her shoulder as they both faced Melanie.

  “I thought you might need food.”

  “Food never sucks, Mel.” Luke was the first one across the room. “My stomach finally feels like it can eat.”

  “Considering last night’s indulgence, I’m surprised.”

  Luke wiped his hands on his jeans and pulled up an operable chair to a sturdy table.

  Melanie had brought several sandwiches, potato salad, and a full container of cut up summer fruits. Considering the slim delights in his refrigerator, Wyatt was happy to fill his stomach with someone else’s idea of lunch. He made a mental note to buy some groceries on his way home from Eugene.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” Melanie asked him as the others gathered around the table to dish out a portion of food.

  “Like I’ve been in a bar fight.”

  “So you’ve been in them before?” she asked.

  He shrugged, knew there was a fine line for a woman when it came to fighting. “I’ve blocked a punch or two before. A couple in high school, usually over a girl.”

  “Humph.” She regarded him from the corner of her eye before walking behind the bar.

  “Not bad, Mel,” Luke told her from across the room.

  “You better offer a deeper compliment than that if you ever wanna free meal off me again,” she told him.

  “You women are never satisfied.” Luke waved his sandwich as he spoke.

  “Says the man who is going to be very hungry if he doesn’t start shoveling out the sugar!” Melanie teased.

  Luke started to hum and licked his lips. “Oh, Mel-Bel, this is the best damn sandwich I have had all summer. My mom needs to take notes.”

  Melanie rolled her eyes as she walked around the bar with several cups filled with ice on a tray. “Your compliments suck.”

  Luke winked and bit off half his sandwich with one bite.

  “I like your sandwiches, Mommy.” Hope was in the process of removing the crust from hers and nibbling on the inside.

  “Thanks, sweetie.”

  Wyatt was about to add his thanks when Hope added, “But Aunt Zoe’s cookies are waaaay better than yours.”

  The mention of Zoe’s name had a couple of heads turning toward Luke. The man was brushing crumbs off his shirt while speaking with a full mouth. “She has a point, Mel-Bel.”

  “Yes, yes I know. Good thing sugar is bad for you or I might have to bake more and make you eat my mess.”

  “No need to eat bad sugar when there is good sugar out there,” Josie said, and Matt agreed.

  Wyatt enjoyed the friendly banter from the sidelines until the conversation found a break. He walked up beside Melanie and placed a hand on the side of her neck and kissed her surprised lips. “It was delicious.”

  Her cheeks turned pink when he stepped away. “It was just a sandwich.”

  Then, to tease, he added quietly, “I wasn’t talking about the food.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  Wyatt waved his soda in the air and walked away. “I have my list. If you think of anything else we need, call or text. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  He felt Melanie’s eyes follow him out the door.

  “Mommy, Uncle Wyatt just kissed you!”

  “He’s not your uncle, honey.”

  “Ewehhhh.”

  The smile he’d managed since he’d met the woman accompanied him all the way into Eugene.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The drive from R&B’s to Miss Gina’s inn only took about ten minutes. The constant questions and comments coming from her daughter kept the drive lively.

  “Why did Wyatt kiss you?” The first question played inside Melanie’s head for a good minute before answering.

  “I think he likes me.”

  “Likes you like, like you like you? Like a boyfriend?”

  Boyfriend felt a little deep considering their early stages of getting to know each other, but for her daughter’s sake, it was probably best to keep it simple.

  “Yeah, kinda like a boyfriend.”

  “So you have a boyfriend.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I’m . . . yeah . . . I guess you can say that.” She might need to explain that to Wyatt before the seven-year-old inquisition happened to him.

  “My friend Kimmie told me that sometimes boyfriends turn into daddies. Is Wyatt going to be my daddy?”

  “Oh, honey, let’s not go there. Wyatt and I hardly know each other. Being a dad takes a long time to figure out.”

  “Hmmm.” Hope stared out the window, her fingers tapped on the edge of the door in thought. “I think Uncle Wyatt could be a good dad.”

  Melanie wondered if Wyatt had any clue as to what his simple kiss had started.

  She pulled into the driveway of the inn, noticed a rental car that hadn’t been there when she’d left. Nathan?

  She felt her pulse jump, hoped he wasn’t the one behind the car. Her head scrambled for an excuse to keep Hope from following her inside. “Sweetie, take the leftovers to the kitchen for me.”

  Hope shrugged and pushed out of the car.

  When Hope stepped in place beside her, Melanie clarified what she wanted. “Around back, honey.”

  “But I
can go through the front.”

  “The fruit container is dripping. I don’t want to mess up the floor.” It was a complete lie, but Hope took it and walked around the back.

  Melanie squeezed her hands into fists and released them before stepping inside.

  Her breath released in a happy rush. “Mr. Lewis.”

  The man who had stayed one night on the evening of Zane’s craziness stood at the front desk with Miss Gina.

  “Hello again.” Mr. Lewis was ten years her senior and had recently started some kind of business that brought him through River Bend.

  Melanie’s relief that Nathan wasn’t behind the rental car kept a smile on her face as she approached the desk.

  “That was a quick trip,” she said to him.

  “I have another one next week.”

  Miss Gina handed him his room key. “Might need to get a punch card or something.”

  “My boss takes care of it,” Mr. Lewis told them. “He doesn’t complain about the price.”

  “Then maybe we should charge you double,” Miss Gina suggested.

  Mr. Lewis laughed and tapped the counter before reaching for his bag.

  “Should I show you your room?” Melanie asked.

  “No, I remember where it is.”

  The sound of feet running through the hall accompanied Hope’s happy voice. “Oh, hi, Mr. Lewis.”

  “Hello, beautiful.” Mr. Lewis placed a hand on Hope’s shoulder and left it there. “You’re not running through the house, are you?”

  Hope snapped her lips shut and looked between the three of them. “Uhm . . .”

  “I didn’t think so,” he said.

  Hope had the three of them laughing when she offered an animated smile full of teeth and mischief before walking slowly out the front door.

  “Guest reception is at five, Mr. Lewis.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Nice man,” Melanie said after he made it halfway up the stairs.

  Miss Gina offered a shrug without words.

  “You don’t think so?”

  “Nice enough, I guess. Wyatt is more your speed.”

  Melanie rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “Good. Now, how is Josie’s place?”