With a Twist
Page 20
For the next ten minutes, I shoot the shit, sip on some beer, and lug around Annie Lynn, who remains attached to my leg. We talk about Chester's law practice, Lacy's book club, and Frank--who is married to Jillian--fills me in on his latest business venture... which is apparently an antique store that's for sale.
When dinner is finally served, we all sit around outside at large tables Chester and Aubrey had set out and covered with white tablecloths. The sun starts to set, and although it's on the opposite side of the house, it doesn't stop the Albemarle Sound from turning orange in the dying light.
I look around at my family... healthy, happy, joking, and laughing, and fuck... I want this too.
Almost as if by cue, my phone starts buzzing in my pocket and I pull it out. Andrea's beautiful face stares up at me, and I can't help the smile that comes to my face.
Standing up from my chair, I start walking toward the back of the yard that has a small rose garden and oddly enough... a large, trellised pen covered in chicken wire that houses the pet peacocks my sister raises.
Weird... I know.
"Hey babe," I say as I answer the phone. "Did you make it back okay?"
"Yeah," she says softly. "Just got in the house and getting unpacked."
The reason Andrea and I couldn't see each other is because she flew to Quantico on Friday for another interview with the BRIU. I didn't begrudge her that, and I'm hoping with all my might that she's offered the position. But damn this weekend fucking sucked without her. It's the first weekend in the last month that we haven't managed to see each other. Our work schedules must have been created from Heaven above, because for the last three weekends, neither one of us had to work.
The first weekend, we met in Annapolis, Maryland. The second weekend, I flew to Pittsburgh. Last weekend, she came back to Nags Head.
All three weekends were spectacular and we made the most of every minute we had together, completely shutting out the world around us. But as each weekend ended, and we were hugging and kissing each other goodbye, it seemed that it was just a little bit harder to let go each time. It was also not lost on us that we wouldn't be able to continue to see each other as often, mainly due to the expense of travel. Our chosen careers unfortunately did not pay enough for us to buy plane tickets every weekend.
I couldn't speak for Andrea, but I know I was getting frustrated. This was only made worse by coming here to Aubrey's and seeing the rest of my family so happy to be with their loved ones.
"How did the interview go?" I ask her, sitting down on a little stone bench that bordered the garden.
"It went fine. They actually seemed interested in me. Talked about the Keyes bust a great deal."
"I'm sure it went more than fine," I tell her. "Because you are the most amazing woman ever, and the most complete, badass FBI chick around, I bet they are going to beg you to join them."
She's silent a moment, and I wonder if I said something wrong. Then she has me smiling.
"Oh, Wyatt," she sighs into the phone. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"
I close my eyes, let her words seep into me, and clear my throat. When I open them, I'm looking at my family sitting at the tables... laughing and eating good food. I want Andrea to sit there.
"I miss you," I tell her.
"And I miss you," she says simply, but those words hold a wealth of emotion in them.
"Listen... I better get going. We're in the middle of dinner."
"Okay," she says wistfully. "Talk tonight?"
"Skype tonight," I correct her. "Want to see that face."
She laughs huskily. "You play your cards right, you'll see more than just my face."
Yeah... didn't need to hear that as my cock jumps at the thought of Andrea's naked body on Skype. We've done some pretty dirty things the last few weeks over the Internet and while not as satisfying as having my hands on her, there's definitely something to be said about watching each other get ourselves off while we whisper filthy words.
"Thanks, babe," I mutter. "Nothing like attending a family dinner with a hard-on."
She laughs into the phone, makes a purring sort of noise, and then tells me goodbye. I stare at the phone for a moment after she disconnects, immediately feeling the loss of her.
Making a surreptitious adjustment on myself and mentally telling my cock to go back into hiding, I head back over to the group.
"Was that Andrea?" my mom asks in her sweet, southern accent. Glenna Banks is a beautiful woman at sixty-two. She wears her silvering, blonde hair in a sleek bob and her skin still looks as smooth as porcelain. She knows about Andrea because I told her one night when I stopped by her house after work. I just laid it all out to her, knowing that my mom would always be a good sounding board for me.
"Yeah... she just got back to Pittsburgh."
"Where was she?" Aubrey asked, and while I have not talked to my sisters about Andrea, I also know that my mom dutifully filled them in.
"She had an interview with the Behavioral Research and Instruction Unit of the FBI in Quantico. She's hoping to get a position there."
"Now that sounds impressive," Jillian says.
"I don't know," Frank says. "A woman like that scares me a bit."
Jillian smacks him on the arm. "Why? Because she carries a gun?"
"No, because she's probably way smarter than I am." Frank taps his finger against his temple. "I bet she could probably read minds. Isn't that what they do in that Behavioral unit place?"
We all start laughing, and my father tells Frank he watches too much Criminal Minds on TV.
Dessert is served and I have a cup of coffee with mine. After the sun sets, the fireflies come out and the kids start winding down, I know it's time to head back home. I have to get up early for work tomorrow.
My mom walks me out to my car, her arm looped through mine.
"So how are you really doing, sweetheart?" she asks, her voice worried. I know this is a direct question regarding Andrea, because while my mom will always worry over her youngest child and only son who is a police officer, she's also come to accept that part of my life and keeps her worries hidden.
"I'm okay," I tell her as we step through the gate. "Sucks she lives so far away, is all."
"I bet," she says with a squeeze to my arm. We round the front of my Suburban and she releases me so I can get my keys out of my pocket.
"Have you given any thought to maybe moving... to Pittsburgh?" she asks hesitantly.
My head snaps her way, surprise lighting through me. "No... why?"
"No special reason. It's just... when two people love each other, it's not good to be away. It causes hurt and loneliness."
Love? Where did she get love from?
Before I can even ask her that, she goes on. "Wyatt... you've talked about Andrea to me. I watched you just a little bit ago while you were on the phone. This is something special you have with her. Now, I haven't met this girl yet, and that is something you better rectify on her next visit here, but I do know you well, son. The look on your face... the happiness... the peace. All from just talking to her, or talking about her. I don't know if you call it love at this point... that's between you and her. But I know what I call it."
She looks at me expectantly... as if I should know what to call this.
I'm not sure that I do, so I just tilt my head at her in question.
Standing on her tiptoes, she kisses my cheek. When her feet are planted solidly again, she pats my face with her hand. "I call it destiny, Wyatt."
My mom's words continue to ring inside my head.
Destiny.
It's not a word I'm sure I've ever used in my vocabulary before. I certainly never paired that word with what I have with Andrea. But now when I think about how we met... the bond we forged while working together... about reconnecting and the way we seem to be growing closer every day... maybe my mom has it right. Maybe she is my destiny.
What necessarily follows that line of thinking is the concept of love.
&nb
sp; If she's my destiny and the future means our paths will merge permanently, that only happens with the added feature of love.
So now I have to consider... is Andrea really my destiny? Do I love her?
I want those answers to be "yes". I don't even have to think about that.
But never having felt love before, I'm just not sure if that's the way to describe this deep, emotional pull I have toward this woman. Is it love when Andrea is the first thing I think of when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think of when I go to sleep, which doesn't include the million other times I think about her during the day? Is it love that my heart hurts when she's sad, or that I'm fearful of not being able to protect her? When she laughs, I can't help but laugh as well... so is that love? What about that when I'm sunk deep inside of her, and she's staring up at me... completely fulfilled, and my heart squeezes in pleasure. Is that love? Or how about that I ache from loneliness... missing her desperately? Love or not?
I think back to what Hunter told me. About the reason why he gave up his surfing career to be near Gabby.
He said it could have worked... because if you love someone, you make it work. But he said ultimately he just didn't want to deal with the hurt of being away from her.
It was just that simple.
He loved Gabby and being away from her hurt him.
Being away from Andrea hurts me.
Doesn't take a fucking genius to figure out what's going on here.
Chapter 24
Andrea
I open the oven, eyeballing the lasagna I have cooking. I just put it in, and it has a while to go yet. Glancing at my watch, I see I'm running short on time before Wyatt gets here. I still need to get the salad together, pop the wine, light the candles, and um... I need to get naked. He said he would call and give me a heads up when he hit my neighborhood, so I'll at least have a few minutes' notice shed my clothes.
It's been two weeks since we've seen each other, and I think the main priority should be for us to get naked. In fact, I'm loving my grand plan to meet him at the door without a stitch of clothes on, and well... we'll let nature take its course.
But first... the salad.
I open the fridge and pull out the big bag of mixed lettuce. A quick swipe of the knife into the plastic and a hard shake into a wooden bowl, and voila... the salad is complete.
If only life were so easy... if it were like a big bag of salad you could shake out and where it all lands is how it should be.
That would be the easy way, but it leaves too much to chance. And when it comes to Wyatt... I don't want to take any chances.
So, I've been giving my life some serious thought. I've evaluated my goals, and then reevaluated them. I've prioritized what's important to me, and when I weigh all considerations, I've come up with some surprising conclusions.
Surprising and one somewhat crazy conclusion, and yet... what I've decided feels right.
So very right.
I can't wait to talk to Wyatt about it when he gets here, but first things first. We've been apart too long and talk can wait. The sex can't.
I reach into my utility drawer beside the stove and pull out the matches, but before I can take a step into the living room to light the dozen candles I laid out, my phone rings.
Crap... time's almost up. Pulling it out of my pocket, I answer, "Circle around my block twice, babe. I'm not quite ready for you."
"Um... Andrea?" I hear a hesitant voice ask.
"David?" I say with shock and an equal amount of dismay.
"Hey," he says jovially. "It's good to hear your voice."
I glance at my watch again, over to the book of matches in my hand... the bowl of salad on the counter. I don't have time for this.
But I try to be as gentle as I can. "David... hi... um, listen... now is really not a good time--"
"Listen... I know you told me that you've moved on, and I respect that, but I just think if we could sit down and talk, you'd see that we could--"
"I'm sorry, David," I butt in before he can start spilling his guts to me. "But I truly don't have time. I'm expecting company any minute."
"Who is he?" he asks in a dead voice.
"Pardon?"
"When you answered the phone... you said "babe". Unless you started batting for the other team, that means you were expecting a man to call you. So who is he?"
Anger surges through me, not because he's questioning me, but because he's cutting into my precious time to finish getting ready for Wyatt. "David... that's not any of your business."
"Jesus Christ, Andrea. We were engaged, and you've seemed to move on awful easily from me," he sneers.
"Just as easily as you walked out the door on me," I say quietly. "Doesn't that tell you something? This was awful easy for both of us."
David is silent... processing my harsh words, contemplating the next best thing to say to me.
I don't give him the chance. "I'm sorry, David. But I have moved on, and there is someone else. Someone very special. And I only wish for you to find the same thing. So please... move on with your life and be happy. That's what I'm going to do."
The doorbell rings. I look at the book of matches in my hand... over to the bowl of salad on the counter... down to my fully clothed body. Damn... Wyatt didn't call me to give me a heads up.
"Andrea... darling... let's just meet and talk about this before you make any hasty decision--"
I press the disconnect button on my phone and toss it onto the counter... David absolutely forgotten. Instead, I concentrate on my pulse, which has sped up knowing that Wyatt is on the other side of my front door.
There's no time to light the candles or strip down. I do spare three seconds to do an excited, happy jig--right in place--then I run to the front door.
I pull it open, and right there... standing before me... the only truly important thing in my life right now. He takes one step in and I'm in his arms, his mouth is on mine. We kiss as if starved. I pull on him... urging him closer to me. I'd immerse him inside of me if I could.
When Wyatt pulls back, my lips tingling from his onslaught, he looks down at me and says, "Hey baby. I missed you."
"God, I missed you too," I tell him, and then push my face into his chest for a hug.
One of his hands comes to the back of my head and his lips press into my hair. "I have something important to talk to you about. But first... and I'm sorry, baby... but I need to fuck you. It's all I've been thinking about for the last two weeks."
That's all I needed to hear, and I love how we clearly have the same priority in mind. My hands start working at his belt but I glance up at him briefly. "I have something important to talk to you about too, but it can wait until after we have sex."
His mouth is on mine again, and he's pulling at my clothes.
"Door," I manage to gasp and he kicks his foot back, slamming it shut and sparing the neighbors.
We've gone from fully naked, fully writhing, and fully moaning to semi-dressed and eating lasagna on my couch. The candles never got lit and the salad was ignored. The wine, although a nice touch, was also ignored in favor of two bottles of ice-cold water to quench the thirst we had worked up.
Sighing in contentment because my lust for Wyatt has been satisfied--for now--and my belly is almost filled, I look at him sitting on one end of the couch. He's only wearing his jeans, halfway zipped up, with his legs stretched out and bare feet resting on my coffee table. I chose to sit at the other end, wearing only my t-shirt and underwear, sitting cross-legged and facing him.
"This is really good, baby," he says before stuffing another bite of cheesy mess in his face.
"It did turn out good, didn't it?" I respond, staring overly long at the start of his happy trail peeking out of his unzipped jeans.
"Keep your eyes on your food," he teases, and I glance up to see him smirking at me.
I smile, duck my face, and take another bite of lasagna. I'm so freaking happy he's here, but I'm a little nervous about how he'll
react to my idea. Even though we've both been very clear in our feelings so far, which I think are parallel to each other, there is still some doubt in my mind that Wyatt wants the same things I do for the long haul. It's not a subject we've discussed because the physical distance between us presents quite the wall of opposition.
"When do you think you'll hear from the BRIU about the position?" Wyatt asks.
Distractedly, I look over at him. "What? Oh... they made me an offer a few days ago."
Wyatt's body stills, the fork in his hand stopping in mid-scoop. He blinks once at me, and then removes his feet from my coffee table. Leaning forward, he sets his plate down, then leans over and takes mine from my hand, also setting it on the coffee table.
"They offered you a position?" he asks quietly.
"Uh-huh," I say with a sheepish smile on my face.
Wyatt lunges at me, wraps his arms around my waist, and hauls me off the couch. Spinning me around, he yells, "That's fucking amazing, Andrea. Fuck... I'm so happy for you."
My hands come up to grip his shoulders and after two complete circles that make me kind of dizzy, I try to take a moment to appreciate his joy for me. Giving him a sweet smile, I lean in and kiss him. "Thanks. It was a bit of a surprise."
Sitting down on the couch, Wyatt tucks me onto his lap and looks at me with excited eyes. "So... when do you start? Shit... there's so much to do. Get your house on the market, get you packed up, and find a new house. Or maybe it's an apartment you'll need in Quantico? Regardless, I'll take some time off work and help get you moved. And what the fuck... how come you didn't tell me? Were you trying to surprise me?"
I stare at Wyatt, completely amazed over his utter abandon. The simple, yet deep happiness he has for me... that I've accomplished a major goal in my life. I'm not sure anyone in my life has ever felt this type of happiness or pride for me before, and it's humbling.
Before I can even answer those questions, he keeps right on going. "Okay, so this is the perfect time I guess to tell you what I've been thinking about. I hadn't really factored the Quantico job into my thoughts, but that actually works out better."
"Better?" I ask with confusion.
Wyatt takes a deep breath, leans in, and kisses me. "You know I'm crazy about you, right?"
"Yeah," I say hesitantly. Even more confused.
"I mean... you really know that about me? That I'm crazy about you and that I miss you terribly when we're apart?"