“Adults only? Is this where all the Bradleton swingers meet up during the holidays?”
His mouth dropped open. “If I were drinking something, I would’ve actually spit it out.”
“No orgies in small towns?”
“Not in public. But if you’re interested, I’ll see what I can find out.” He leaned his upper body away from her to peer around the building. Then he raised his hand. “Mr. Miller?”
What the hell? He wasn’t really—?
She pushed, ineffectively, against his chest and followed the direction of his gaze to an older couple standing several yards away. The position of Wyatt’s body over hers and the barn hid her from their view.
As long as they didn’t start walking this way.
Wyatt waved. “I was wondering—”
She ducked back against the barn. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
“—if you could tell me—”
“Don’t you dare,” she muttered.
“—where I might find the events of—”
“Stop it!” She laughed and pulled on his arm.
He stared down at her, and in the warm glow of the surrounding light, his hazel eyes gleamed. “Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure they know where all the kinky stuff goes on. I’ve thought that about them for years . . .”
She couldn’t control her laughter. “You are ridiculous.”
He shrugged. “You had your chance. Never mind, Mr. Miller. It’s wonderful to see you both. Have a good night.”
She let her head fall back against the barn. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“I can’t, either.” He smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear and brushed his thumb across her cheek. “You make me do things I’ve never done before.”
The way he looked at her . . .
Heat suffused her body and her heart rebounded against her chest. “Like what?”
“Like kiss a smart, beautiful woman behind the Anderson family barn.”
“I don’t want to be responsible for your corruption.” She fisted her hands in his sweater and claimed his lips.
The man could kiss like nobody’s business. If it were a subject, he’d have a doctorate. If it were a sport, he’d be in the hall of fame.
Quite simply, he took her breath away.
A bell-like ringtone penetrated their heated embrace. Wyatt broke their kiss and pressed his cheek against hers.
“Sorry about this,” he breathed into her ear, as he pulled a cell from his jeans and answered the call.
“Hey,” he said, his eyes boring into hers. “No, we’re here.” He cupped her shoulder and slid his hand down her arm. “We’re over by the Fun Barn.” He twined his fingers with hers. “Mind your damn business. We’ll be there in a sec.”
He hung up.
“Come on. Got us tickets for the private hayride.”
Privacy sounded promising. “What’s that?”
They walked over to a large wooden structure built to resemble a miniature outdoor train station, complete with a shedlike roof.
“Small parties can take a half-hour hayride through the farm and end up in a private section where there’s a campfire and treats and you get to hang out for ninety minutes before they come back to get you.”
When they reached the hayride depot, Caila saw Dan and his wife, Laura, standing close to each other, engaged in a deep conversation.
She slid him a sidelong glance. “You called in reinforcements?”
“This probably isn’t the time for me to get caught having sex with the Endurance rep in the middle of a field. And if it were just the two of us, I wouldn’t be able to say no. I find you irresistible.” He winked at her.
It was her turn to be shocked as Wyatt greeted his friends. She addressed Dan cordially—she didn’t get a warm, welcoming vibe from him—but was surprised when Laura hugged her. She didn’t mind returning it; she liked the other woman.
A red farm truck with a wooden flatbed pulled in. Wyatt hopped into the back and helped her up. Piles of hay were stacked around the bed for comfortable seating. Caila took the spot next to Wyatt; Laura and Dan sat across from them.
The wind kicked up and she snuggled into the fall jacket she’d purchased on her shopping spree. The air was crisp, scented with hints of cinnamon and cloves. Caila did her best to take it all in, to remember the idyllic scene exactly as it—
She sneezed. She sneezed. She sneezed again. When Caila opened her eyes, all three people were staring at her.
“Bless you,” Laura said.
Caila smiled. “Thanks.”
Wyatt turned his body toward her. “It didn’t even occur to me to ask if you were allergic to hay.”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t have lots of occasions to be exposed to it. I do have seasonal allergies.” There was an annoying tickle in her nose, but her throat wasn’t scratchy and her eyes felt fine. “If I am, it’s only slightly.”
“I’m so sorry.” Wyatt clawed a hand through his dark strands. He stood. “We don’t have to do this. Let’s get you some medicine and—”
She tugged on the hem of his maroon sweater. “Sit down. I’ll be fine.”
His brows drew together. “You’re not fine.”
“I want to go. Come on, I’m good.”
He stared down at her before he took two steps and jumped off the truck.
“Wyatt!”
Dammit.
Annoyance at the scene he was making, affection that he cared, and lust at the way his body moved when he leaped down, warred within her. She didn’t know which to allow to the forefront.
She looked over to find Dan and Laura studying her. She tried to lighten the mood. “Did he just ditch me?”
“No. Far from it.” Dan frowned and peered after his friend.
Cryptic much, Officer Daniel?
“Sooo.” Caila switched her attention to Laura. “How long have you two known each other?”
Laura smiled. “Since high school. My family moved here when I was in the ninth grade.”
“Where from?”
“Virginia Beach.”
Caila sat forward, responding to an experience that seemed similar to her own. “That must’ve been jarring.”
“Oh, it was. My father was in the navy and when he retired, he wanted to move closer to family. My grandparents lived here, so we moved back.”
“I’m another transplant,” Dan added. “We moved here when I was five.”
“Wow. I guess I didn’t think of Bradleton as a place that people moved to.” She closed her eyes when she heard her own words. “Shit. That sounded more bitchy than I intended.”
Laura’s bark of laughter caught Caila by surprise. “No, I understand what you’re saying. But it’s the biggest town in three counties, so people come here to do their shopping or to visit and spend the day. Nearby towns haven’t fared as well.”
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
“You can ask, but we may not answer,” Laura said, a smile softening her words.
Caila took a deep breath. “Why do you stay?”
They glanced at each other before Dan said, “We all left to attend college; couldn’t wait to get away. But as you get older and start thinking about having a family, you want to give them the same experience you had growing up.”
I don’t, Caila thought.
“We have history here. We know the people here.” Dan took Laura’s hand. “Eventually, we’ll want to raise our children here.”
Laura nodded. “Bradleton may never be what it was, but it won’t have the chance to morph into something new if everyone leaves.”
An easy decision for them to make. They fit in here, were straight out of central casting for Small Town, America. Laura ran a wellness center. Dan was a cop. No offense, but they could live in a small town. Hell, they could thrive.
“Have you always been into wellness?” she asked, several moments later, when Wyatt hadn’t returned.
“No.” Laura laughed and
rolled her eyes. “I worked in politics in D.C. When we left, there wasn’t an opportunity for me to work remotely.”
“And how did that translate into wellness?”
“I’d practiced yoga and Pilates for years, and when we came to visit, before we moved, I’d always complain about the lack of a proper studio in town. Once we’d officially relocated, I looked into opening my own.”
Caila remembered Wyatt’s correction at the game. Laura, who owns the yoga studio in town. Wait, sorry, the new Bradleton Wellness Center. “The wellness center is a recent development? You opened a yoga studio first?”
Laura nodded. “In my practice I often referred clients to our local massage and physical therapists, and they were doing the same. Then, about eighteen months ago, we all got to talking at the monthly business mixer and we realized we could save money and provide better, more comprehensive service, if we combined under one umbrella. So, we did.”
They’d made a really smart move. By merging, they could share accommodations, thereby reducing their expenses and creating built-in cross promotion with their existing clientele.
Something about that blueprint pinged a latent part of her brain, but before she could explore it further, Wyatt ran up, a black and blue plaid blanket thrown over his arm. He hopped in the truck—Lord, have mercy, he could move!—and spread the fabric over the hay. He gestured for her to sit on it.
“Maybe that’ll help.” He pulled a small pouch from his jacket pocket. “I also have tissues.”
“Where did you get all of this?” Caila asked.
He grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. He looked so damn adorable. “I kinda pulled rank at the box office. I figured they’d have something useful around here.” He sat down next to her. “It’s a working farm and the Andersons’ house isn’t far. I asked one of them to help me.”
Her heart shifted, settled into place, and began racing at the speed of light. She placed a hand on his knee. Squeezed. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you.”
Wyatt covered her hand with his. “You’re very welcome.”
A voice screeched through the loudspeaker attached to the back of the truck, breaking the mood. “Now that everyone’s aboard, let’s get you guys going.”
Warmed by Wyatt’s concern, Caila sat back and tried not to read meaning into the look that Dan and Laura exchanged.
Chapter Sixteen
Wyatt closed his eyes, and in the dark, everything was more intense. The softness of her skin, the sound of her moans, the smell of their sex.
It overwhelmed him.
He opened his eyes, and the visual onslaught didn’t help.
Fuck! It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to last much longer.
Caila’s body was arched above him, one hand braced behind her, the other holding the device that was driving them both insane. She held the vibrator against her clit and undulated her hips, the muscles in her sleek thighs rippling with her exertions. He could feel the reverberations inside her pussy, and the all-encompassing sensations drove him insane with desire.
He slid a hand up her sweat-slicked torso and caught a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it.
“God, Wyatt, yes. Harder.”
Her husky voice lowered in pleasure? There was no better sound on this earth.
He rose up to suck on the hard peak and press it against the roof of his mouth. She cried out and ground vigorously against him. Her moans?
The second-best sound.
“That’s it, baby. Ride me. Ride my cock.”
He gripped her hips and thrust into her until he couldn’t see straight and her eyes rolled back in her head. She gripped the sheets between her fingers and screamed as she came, rhythmic bands of pressure swathing his cock.
His heart galloped in his chest and pleasure tightened into a knot at the base of his spine. A second later, it was his turn, and he roared as his balls contracted and waves of paralyzing energy coursed hot and thick through his body.
She collapsed on top of him, and the vibrator rolled from her fingers to rest on the blanket.
He exhaled shakily and hugged her close, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead.
Several moments later, when he’d caught his breath, he chuckled. “Evelyn Nash sells sex toys? I won’t be able to look her in the face the next time I see her.”
Caila snuggled into his side and slid her knee over his thigh, lazily stroking his calf with her foot. “The next time you see her, you should thank her. It was worth every penny I spent.”
Had he ever felt so at peace? Like he was finally home? Holding her in his arms, her warm feminine scent both stimulating his senses and soothing his soul . . .
He never wanted it to end.
Caila’s fingers idly combed through the hair on his chest. “Dan and Laura kept staring at us.”
“I noticed,” he said, grabbing her hand when her wandering thumb brushed too close to his nipple. He needed a little more time before round two. “They weren’t trying to be subtle about it.”
“They probably thought I was the rudest person on earth.”
He smiled against her hair. “Earth might be stretching it a little, but . . .”
She groaned and hid her face. “I know.”
“Baby, I’m kidding.”
She pushed back against his arm and stared up at him. “I basically questioned why she’d give up a career as a policy analyst in D.C. to own a yoga studio in Bradleton.”
That pretty much summed it up. But Laura hadn’t taken offense at her questions. In fact, she’d taken him aside a little later and told him how much she liked Caila.
“She doesn’t tolerate bullshit and I respect that,” Laura had said.
Wyatt did, too. He cared for Caila. A lot. Beyond that, he wasn’t ready to quantify his feelings, though he couldn’t escape her growing importance to him.
At one point during their outing, while making s’mores and talking to Dan, he’d caught sight of Caila in his periphery. She’d looked stunning with the firelight flickering across her brown skin and a bright smile curving her lips at something Laura said. Emotion had swamped his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.
This is what I want. More evenings like this . . . with Caila.
“Dude, I like my marshmallows burnt, but that one is incinerated.” Dan had smirked, lifting a bottle of beer to his lips.
Wyatt had tried to remain casual and act like nothing had changed. He’d flipped Dan the bird, then discarded the alien-looking clump of charred sugar.
But once the thought had formed, it refused to go away.
He wanted more with Caila. Beyond her temporary stay in Bradleton.
But how could that work? She had her life and career in Chicago; he had his family and responsibilities here in Virginia. Not to mention the biggest obstacle between them: the role she might play in Chro-Make losing the Endurance contract.
Uncertainty sank like a stone in his stomach. He didn’t want to worry about any of that right now. He had ten more days with her until Joe came back, and he wanted nothing more than to spend them just like this: her in his arms, the outside world at bay.
No talk of factories, contracts, or the future.
Caila kissed his chest. “This is great.”
“I agree.”
“And you’re wonderful.”
He smiled and tried to shake off any lingering anxiety. “I like to think so.”
Her laughter was his heart’s siren song. “But I couldn’t do what she did. As much as I respect what Laura and Dan have, it isn’t for me. I’m never getting married.”
He stilled. “Why not?”
She shifted her upper body to fold her arms across his chest and prop up her chin. “Because I’ll never allow myself to be dependent on a man. For anything.”
The harshness of her words initially chilled him, until he saw past his own shock and caught the pain saturating her eyes.
“That kind of pro
clamation requires a story.”
“It really doesn’t.”
She didn’t want to talk about it, so he’d let it go. For now. It was good to know how she felt. Maybe it would stem the rising tide of his affections.
He stroked her hair and forced himself to speak past the sudden obstruction in his throat. “I appreciate your candor and I’m glad you told me. Because someday, I’ll have to get married.”
She tensed and looked away from him. “Why do you say ‘have’ instead of ‘want’?”
He allowed the distance and imbued his tone with a breeziness at odds with his mood. “It’s my responsibility to carry on the Bradley name.”
“You’re talking like you’re a Rockefeller or a Kennedy.”
“Down here, I am. Objectively speaking, the Bradleys are a big deal in Virginia. For as long as I can remember, my family has drilled into me that carrying on our legacy is my foremost duty.”
She turned back to face him. “It seems to me you’re doing exactly that. You’re the popular mayor of the town named after your family. What more could they want from you?”
Everything.
“I’ve had a very privileged upbringing and I was granted a lot more leeway than other members of my family, but now the bill for that freedom is due. My grandfather wants me to run for the Virginia House of Delegates next year, with an eye toward the governorship.”
Caila sat up and pushed her hair out of her face. “That’s major. Is that what you want to do?”
Had what he’d wanted ever been a consideration? Or had they all assumed his wishes didn’t matter? That he’d do what was expected of him?
“Why were you given more leeway?” she asked when he didn’t respond.
He folded an arm behind his head. “My dad. Do you remember how I told you I got my interest in woodworking from him?”
“Yes.”
“Since becoming mayor, I’ve been able to balance fulfilling my responsibilities to my family and pursuing what interests me. My dad didn’t. To him, staying true to his art was the most important thing.” More important than me. He swallowed those unsaid words. “He left when I was twelve.”
“Have you seen him since then?”
“No. My grandfather wouldn’t allow it.”
Sweet Talkin' Lover Page 20