Wyatt

by Michelle Horst

  “Yes, I’d rather be alone than risk hurtin’ you. People only end up leavin’ each other.” She curls back into me, making herself smaller. I lift myself slightly up on my elbow.

  “Not all people. Look at Aiden and Emma. They’re good for each other,” I say.

  Somewhere, someone must’ve hurt her good for her to feel this way about relationships.

  “For now. It’s only a matter of time before the one will leave the other,” she argues.

  I stare at her stunned. She’s actually serious.

  “How can you be so sure? I’ve never seen two people more in love.”

  She sighs and turns her face more into the pillow. “People meet, they fall in love, they get married. It’s the normal order of things. Then one will die on the other and the one left behind will be heartbroken,” she pauses and swallows. When she talks again her voice quivers. “They’ll end up taking each other to the grave and leaving the child all alone. I don’t want that,” she breathes a shallow breath. “Look how broken Zac is. I’m sure Zac and Laurie loved each other very much, but then Laurie died. Now Zac is alone and empty because the person who completed him left him behind. I don’t want that.”

  ~*~

  When Scarlett turns her body away from mine and presses herself into the bed, I reach for her, but she won’t come to me when I try to pull her closer this time.

  Instead I lean into her and just hold her as best I can, rubbing her back. I have no words of comfort to offer her at this moment. I’m just trying to process everything she said.

  It hurts that she can’t see me in her future. It hurts like hell that she thinks we don’t stand a chance.

  Finally I say, “Babe, it doesn’t mean we won’t make it. Every relationship is different. You know your heart and I know mine. If we commit-” She flips over and the look of heartache in her eyes is almost unbearable.

  “Committin’ has nothin’ to do with it, Wyatt. My parents committed to each other. They were committed to the very end. They loved each other to the end but that didn’t stop my mother from dying on my dad. It didn’t stop my dad from dying of loneliness! He followed my mom to the grave not even a year later.” She snaps her mouth shut, realizing she said too much and she darts up, but I grab for her. She’s finally talking! She’s definitely not running now.

  “No, Scarlett, this is good,” I say, and I hold her down next to me, “keep going.”

  “What?” she shrieks. She grabs at my arm but instead of trying to fight me she holds on, and she curls into me. “I don’t want to feel this for you, Wyatt,” she cries into my chest. “You say now we can make it work, but later on one of us will die and if it’s you it will kill me just like it killed my dad. I don’t want to die like he did. I don’t want to die alone. And what if I give us a chance and you meet someone else later on, what if you fall in love with her and there’s no place for me in your life anymore? That would be worse than dying alone.”

  It feels as if she’s reached into my chest and taken a direct blow at my heart. I knew she had her doubts about me, but I didn’t know she thought so low of me.

  “I’ve been called many things, Scarlett, but I’ll never be a cheat,” I defend myself. Dammit, it’s hurting more than I thought it would.

  I’ve let her in too fast. I’ve made a mistake.

  ~*~

  Chapter Twelve

  Scarlett~

  I’m not good at saying what I feel and I’ve gone and said it all wrong. Now I’ve hurt him again.

  I get up and scoot to the end of the bed so I can start thinking more clearly. Being around him isn’t helping.

  “I didn’t call you a cheat. It came out wrong,” I try to cover the mess I’ve made. “I was talkin’ in general. I mean anyone who I might end up with, not just you.” Oh, I’m making this so much worse.

  I drop my face into my hands and moan my frustration out. I’m not making any sense to myself, how do I expect him to understand me. I feel the bed move and then his fingers wrap around my wrists. He tugs lightly and I let him take my hands away from my face. His chest is warm under my palms as he covers my hands with his, just holding them to him.

  “We’re gonna start sayin’ things we don’t mean,” he whispers and he leans down, brushing his mouth over my forehead.

  My sound system sounds up from the living room, indicating it’s five am and time to start getting up. Wyatt pulls back slightly and listens.

  “If you comment on my choice of music, I’m going to have to kill you,” I growl at him. I’m a Bon Jovi fanatic. I have my sound system programmed to start with Bed of Roses every morning.

  But Wyatt doesn’t say anything about my choice of music. Instead, he slips his arm around me and takes me back to the middle of the bed.

  “When everythin’ is said and done, I still want you, Scarlett.” He moves over me and there’s so much desire in his eyes, it burns right into my heart. “I still wanna be with you. I still want you to want me back. I still want you to give us a chance. I still want to kiss you and bury myself so deep inside of you that we won’t know where I end and you begin.”

  I do want him. I want to say yes so badly but anything can happen. Anything can go wrong and then I’ll end up getting hurt.

  “Baby steps,” he whispers and he brushes his mouth along my jaw, “how about we take it slow and see where this goes. No next week, just today. We take every day as it comes.”

  His mouth keeps trailing down my neck and I arch up so I can push my body into his. I weave my hands into his hair.

  “Just today,” I repeat his words. I can do that. It’s just one day.

  ~*~

  No, we didn’t have sex. We didn’t make love either. He just kissed my neck and then got up. He left me wanting him while he got ready for work.

  My fourth day starts off better. Old Bertha smiles wide when a dozen of red roses are delivered just after twelve. She signs for it and then peers at the card.

  “Oh, darlin’. These are for you,” she beams in my direction. I take the card she holds out to me and at first the words don’t make sense.

  I wanna lay you down in a bed of roses. You’re making us sleep in a bed of thorns. JP

  I keep staring at it until the words finally sink in. The bastard knows it’s my favorite song?

  “You okay, darlin’?” Old Bertha asks. I can only nod.

  “Can you give me a few minutes, I just need to take them to the kitchen,” I excuse myself from the office.

  “Sure, hon. Take your time,” she coos.

  I grip the vase tightly and force my body to move. I don’t take in any of the faces on my way to the kitchen. I nudge the door open with my shoulder. I open the trash can and I dump the roses.

  “Babe?” I take a breath before I turn to Wyatt.

  “Hey, you’re not out on patrol?” I ask, and I hope my voice sounds normal.

  “Why are you throwin’ the flowers away?” he asks, ignoring my question.

  “It’s from him,” I say, feeling miserable to answer. I just wish the guy would disappear.

  “Did he send anythin’ else?” Wyatt’s voice tenses some.

  I nod and hand him the card. I watch him read it.

  He clenches his jaw and reaches for me. I place my hands between us and try to glance over his shoulder.

  “People might see,” I whisper urgently.

  “You’re embarrassed being seen with me?” he asks, darkly.

  I shake my head fast. “No, of course not. It’s just that we’re at work. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

  “You’re lunch is at one right?” he asks and I nod. “I’ll come get you. I got some info on the guy.” He places a kiss to my hair. “I’ll see you in …” he glances at the clock on the wall and then he smiles,” what do you know, thirty minutes.”

  When I get back to my office I have an overwhelming need to hear Morgan’s voice. I’ve neglected her so badly since I got into town. I dial her number but it goes straight to voicemai
l. I leave her a short message before I get back to work.

  ~*~

  Wyatt takes me to a cozy cafe called Pete’s Place. He swears they make the best sandwiches in town. He orders two house specials.

  After the waitress serves our drinks he starts to talk. “Do you want to know who he is?” he asks.

  I frown. That’s a real odd question. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “It will make him more real,” he explains.

  “I think he’s as real as they come, Wyatt. The letters, the roses,” I take a breath to try and calm down, but it’s not working. “When someone comes into your house and puts his hands on you it makes it real. He knows my favorite song. He knows things he shouldn’t. How does someone do that?”

  Wyatt takes hold of my hands, stopping me from obliterating the napkin I’m busy shredding to pieces.

  “Jeffrey Parker. He’s from New Orleans. He does odd jobs at hospitals. He-” I see Wyatt’s mouth move but I can’t hear what he’s saying. My vision blurs in on the sides. I feel the prickles run over my tongue and the back of my head and then it all almost goes black.

  I’ve never almost fainted because of shock. This is a first.

  Wyatt darts around the table and grabs hold of me before I can face-plant the table.

  “Scarlett!” There’s panic in his voice.

  I remember him now. As if it was yesterday and not two years ago. But he was nice back then, almost too nice. He even looked different.

  “I remember him,” I whisper hoarsely. “He smiled every single day. I thought that was a nice thing to do for someone who mopped up floors and saw people die every day.” I fold my arms around me when I realize how much he’s seen of me. “I was so stupid. I didn’t put it together when I saw him at my dad’s hospital too. I just thought it was nice seein’ him again, seeing a friendly face.” My eyes shoot up to Wyatt’s. “But I really didn’t recognize him! I promise, Wyatt! He had shorter hair back then. It’s been two years. I haven’t seen him in two years.”

  Wyatt’s frowning at me as if he’s just figuring something out.

  “Babe, normally I snap things quite fast but with you I’m just not getting’ the whole picture. You’re tellin’ me he met you at a hospital?” he asks. Before I can answer his facial expression chances as if the light finally just went on. “Every day? For how long were you in?” he asks.

  The wrong light went on.

  “Not me. My mom got sick and died first, she was in for a long time, almost six months. I saw him every day while I was with her,” I explain so he can get on the same page as me.

  He lifts an eyebrow but before he can comment the food comes. He just glances at it, thanks the waitress and then looks back to me.

  “And then your dad?” he asks.

  “He died that same year. I then saw Jeffrey again and really I should’ve –“

  “Hold on,” he stops me. “What you said this mornin’,” he looks stunned, “you were serious?”

  The switch in topic throws me completely.

  “I’m not followin’ you now,” I admit.

  “The part you said about the people takin’ each other to the grave and leavin’ the child alone,” His hand slips over my back and I stiffen. It was so much easier having this conversation in the dark, not in broad daylight. “You were talkin’ about yourself? This actually happened to you? Your parents died and you feel like they left you behind?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it now.” I glance at my watch and I’m relieved to see there’s only fifteen minutes of my lunch hour left. “We have to get going. Eat up.”

  Wyatt doesn’t look happy. I’m not happy.

  I should get a gun and take care of this Jeffrey guy myself.

  ~*~

  Wyatt follows me home. I don’t get to even pick up the piece of paper that’s waiting for us. He goes for it and reads it. He tucks it in his pocket and locks the door behind us.

  “Let me see,” I ask for it.

  “Nope,” he refuses. He sets his keys down on the counter and turns to me. “I’ve been thinkin’ a lot today. I have some questions if you’ll let me ask them.”

  “Show me the letter and I’ll answer anythin’,” I answer foolishly.

  “Okay,” he agrees and he hands me the paper.

  Don’t bend, don’t break, we aren’t gonna live forever. We are gonna die together. My heart is like an open highway and it’s coming right for you. JP

  I’m back to staring at it, until Wyatt’s hand wraps around the paper. My eyes jump from the pale paper to his tanned skin, his strong fingers, and I let my eyes trail up his arm to his blue uniform.

  “Have you dealt with someone like him before,” I ask.

  “Every case is different,” he answers vaguely.

  “But you’ve seen what people like him do?” I keep pushing, “if someone like him isn’t stopped, what happens?” Wyatt shakes his head at me, refusing to answer me. “I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve pressed charges when you had him.”

  “We’re on the lookout for him. He won’t get far. He won’t get close to you.” He tries to comfort me.

  I point to the paper in his hand. “Every time he does somethin’ like this he gets closer! He’s already been too close!”

  He tucks the paper back in his pocket and pulls me in against him. “Listen to me,” he says adamantly, “I’m here and as you can see I’m not going anywhere. Why don’t you pack a bag and crash at my place tonight? I’ll even go jogging with you. Afterwards we can go for a few drinks and who knows, I might even let you kiss me,” he jokes. I smile and wrap my fingers around his tie, tugging him closer.

  I’m so grateful for the distraction he’s offering me.

  “You might let me?” I stand on my toes to reach his ear. I breathe out against his skin and his hands settles hard on my hips. I trail my mouth down his neck and just before I reach his collar I nip at his skin. “I’m glad you think you’ll let me. We’ll see about that.”

  I pull away from him and move fast when he reaches for me.

  “No, no, no,” I hold my hand up to keep him at bay and he keeps coming until his chest presses against the palm of my hand, “Wyatt, no. What’s fair is fair. You started that,” I laugh at him.

  “How so?” he grins.

  “I’ve been asking nicely since last night and all I get is you saying you might let me kiss you later, so now you’ll just have to wait for me to make the move.” I start laughing when he takes hold of my hand and he pulls me flush against him.

  “I have to wait for you to make the move?” he asks. “Isn’t there anyway I can help make this move faster?”

  “No,” I squeal when his hands slip over my butt and he lifts me to him.

  “You sure about that?” he asks again.

  I can feel how much he wants me as his cock presses hard against my core. I wrap my arms and legs around him. I drop my mouth to his neck again and brush my lips over his skin. “Very sure,” I murmur against him and then I nip at his skin again.

  I gasp when he slams me into the wall and his hand pulls my head back. His mouth crushes against mine and the first wave of sizzling pleasure hasn’t even spread through my body when his tongue sweeps into my mouth.

  I grab hold of his hair and tug hard at it. I’ve had soft and gentle with Wyatt. I want him to help me forget. I want Wyatt to fill every corner of me. Just for today.

  ~*~

  Chapter Thirteen

  Wyatt~

  Oh. Fuck.

  I only meant to kiss her but the second she grabs at my hair it’s as if she’s hot wiring my body.

  Her hands start trailing down my chest and I know if I don’t break away now it’s going to be over in seconds. I bite at her bottom lip one more time before I drop her legs, letting them slide to the floor.

  Dammit, I want her. But I don’t want her running, either.

  “Wyatt,” she breathes against my neck. She finally looks up at me. “Why are you stoppin’,” she
asks.

  “I need it to be more,” I throw her words back at her.

  I mean them. I can’t just have sex with her. I thought we were on the same page when I made love to her. I was clearly wrong. The next time she will be the one making love to me.

  ~*~

  We skip jogging. She packs a bag and I see that as a real positive thing.

  After dinner she pins me with that stare of hers, the one that tells me she’s about to be real direct. I steel myself.

  “How many?” she asks, and I’m not quite sure I’m following.

  “How many what?” I ask just to make sure. Her cheeks flush and I get where she’s heading. “Oh, that how many,” I say to buy some time.

  She pulls a cute worried face, like maybe she shouldn’t have asked.

  “You really wanna know?” I ask, giving her time to back out. I know for a fact women don’t do the jealousy thing well.

  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Now she’s the one giving me the out.

  “Six.” I let the number fall between us and she frowns.

  “Am I number six?” she asks.

  “Hell no,” I say a little too loudly. “I didn’t count you. You’re not a number.”

  I don’t know if she expected worse from me. I don’t know what I did, but I did something right, because she flings herself at me.

  “I’m number seven!” she squeals.

  Okay, she really likes the number seven. I have to remember that. She plants a kiss on my cheek and pulls back slightly.

  “Wyatt,” she looks at me all amazed-like, “do you just like givin’ people the impression that you’re a player?”

  “Uhm…” I start and I’m not sure where she’s heading with her questions. “You’re the one who came to that conclusion all by yourself. Normally people like just me for my awesome personality.”

  She leans back some more.

  “How come so few?” she asks again.

  “What’s with the third degree?” I counter.

  “I’m just tryin’ to get to know you. Someone who looks like you,” she waves her hand across my person, “I would have thought you’d have a list as long as your arm.”