Say You Want Me

by Corinne Michaels

  “You’re not going to have half the fun that I am during the next six months.”

  “Tomorrow you’re twelve weeks, right?” Wyatt asks.

  “Yup. Out of the first trimester.”

  It’s crazy that I’ve got this tiny person growing inside me. They explained the first twelve weeks were the most crucial. I needed to make sure I took my vitamins and called if there were any issues.

  Presley got me the information for the only gynecologist within twenty miles of here. He apparently delivered Wyatt, so I can only imagine how old he is, but I’ll find out in two days when I meet him. Wyatt, apparently, loves Dr. Borek. He said he’s the best doctor around, and I’ll soon see why. This should be fun.

  His hand lifts and brushes my hair back. “I know this isn’t what either of us planned, but I hope you know that I’ll always be there for both of you, even if this doesn’t work out.”

  I lace my fingers with his, putting our clasped hands between us. “I promise I’ll never be one of those women who keeps him or her from you. I grew up with two parents, but they weren’t like yours. They weren’t always bad. When we were really little, my mom was awesome. We baked cookies, did crafts, and she was really happy. My dad worked a lot, but he came home smiling and played dolls with me. Then my mom got cancer and everything changed.”

  “I’m sorry.” Wyatt’s eyes are soft and sincere.

  “Don’t be.” I never understood what people were sorry for. It’s not as if they gave her cancer and then cut me out of her life. “She made her choice. Instead of seeing that she had a second chance at life and living it to the fullest, she shut us all out. It was like her life could go at any minute, and instead of holding all of us close, she pushed us away.”

  Wyatt squeezes my hand a little. “Still sucks.”

  I let out a small laugh. “It does, and she’s no better now. When Todd died, she really gave up on me. However, she’s clung to my brother Josh, since he’s the prodigal son.”

  “I didn’t know you had another brother.”

  “Josh is . . .” I trail off, trying to think how to explain him. “Difficult.”

  Wyatt grins. “I have one of those.”

  I wish that Josh were like Trent. As difficult as he seems to be, it’s different. “Not the same. Josh is the biggest snob I’ve ever met. He made a ton of money in his early twenties and let it get to his head. He’s stingy, self-absorbed, and pretentious. He lets everyone know it, too. He’s a pompous prick that I feel no need to be around. I can only imagine what he’s going to say when he finds out I’m pregnant.”

  Wyatt’s body tenses, and his face grows hard. “It’s not his place.”

  “No.” I close my eyes. “But he’ll still have an opinion.”

  One that won’t be good. I’m sure we’ll end up screaming at each other. He’ll call me a whore, or some other awful name, and then inject something about Todd. When Todd died he didn’t even come to the funeral. He stayed in Florida in all his perfection. God forbid he be there for me, Presley, or our parents. It was easier for him to say how Todd made his choice and that he wasn’t going to be inconvenienced because of it. Did I mention he’s a prick?

  I’ve never been more disappointed in him than I was in that moment.

  “No,” Wyatt says with no room for question. “He won’t.”

  It’s sweet that he’s already slightly protective. He’s pretty cute when he’s being all macho. “It’s fine. I’ve learned to ignore whatever comes out of his mouth.”

  “Tell me more about your parents,” he urges.

  We settle in, and I talk about my mother and going through her treatments. We talk about the fact that I haven’t spoken to her in months and really didn’t notice until now. It’s sad that she wasn’t the first phone call I wanted to make, but I’ve come to accept the relationship she’s capable of having. She may not be the mother I wish I had, but I can’t change her. I can’t force someone to love me the way I want them to. It doesn’t work that way.

  Time passes and Wyatt and I keep sharing. Sometimes we talk about our friends, other times our family. My eyes grow tired, and I fight to keep them open.

  “Sleep.” His other hand comes to my cheek.

  “No,” I say around a yawn, fighting the exhaustion settling over me.

  He shifts forward, kisses my forehead, and lies back down. “Good night, Angie.”

  “Good night, Wyatt.”

  His other hand slides down my body, and my eyes jerk open. His brown eyes don’t move from mine, and he keeps our fingers intertwined. His hand rests on my stomach. “Good night, baby.”

  I place my hand over his. “Good night, baby.”

  We both smile at each other, and his beautiful eyes close.

  THE NEXT TWELVE DAYS GO by seamlessly. The doctor was old, but really sweet. He gave me a lot of things to think about, and some advice on how to handle any symptoms I’ll probably have. All in all, Wyatt was right. He is a great doctor, which of course I won’t tell him. We told his parents last weekend, which I was nervous about but quickly learned I had no reason to be. I still haven’t called my own parents, though.

  Wyatt works, comes home, showers, and we have dinner. He’s typically asleep before I’m even remotely ready for bed, but that’s because he’s up at the ass crack of dawn.

  Wyatt’s given me carte blanche in regards to any decorating I want. I’ve spent hours online and probably spent way more than I should for a three month stay, but at least I know that when the baby is born, the house is pretty.

  I flop in the chair with a huff. I’m freaking tired. Like, all the time. I want to sleep and then sleep some more. Who knew that growing a kid would be so freaking exhausting? Not me. Although, I’m sure the book of crap that no one tells you has that little tidbit.

  “Knock, knock,” I hear someone say from the doorway.

  I stand and see Wyatt’s mama pop her head in. “Mrs. Hennington! Come in, please!” I smile, glad to have someone here to keep me from buying anything else.

  “Hi there, darlin’! I wanted to come see how you were getting along here.” She smiles with the warmth of the sun. “Also, I brought you a pie.”

  She’s probably one of the sweetest women in the world, and her Southern charm is infectious. I’ve met her a few times with Presley before I claimed my door prize, and it’s clear where her boys get their good hearts from. Macie Hennington has raised her kids with honor and respect.

  “I’m hanging in there.”

  “You’ll love it here, I just know it.”

  Fat chance in hell. I still have no access to a Caramel Macchiato or the cupcakes. I also miss my store, which means I’m getting crankier by the day. Instead of actually telling her that, I decide to grin. If there’s one person I really want to like me—it’s her. She’s close to her boys, and she’s the grandma I want for my baby. The one who will bake cookies, give sewing lessons, and smother grandbabies with love. Unlike my mother, who will teach my child how to ignore people properly.

  “Oh, you’ve already made this house so much better.” Mrs. Hennington looks around. “Wyatt’s room always looked like one of those dorm rooms with white walls and awful posters.” She waves her hand. “But you’ve done such a beautiful job just puttin’ a woman’s touch around here.”

  “Thank you.” I grin.

  “I can’t wait to see what you two do for a nursery.” Her eyes are light with excitement. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m just so happy. I know it’s a little unconventional and all, but it’ll be my first grandbaby. After I chewed Wyatt’s hide over how this could happen, I couldn’t stop myself from being . . . happy. I hope you understand.”

  “I’m glad you’re excited.” Someone should be out of our parents.

  “I wasn’t sure you would be,” I confess.

  She laughs and pats my leg. “Sugar, Wyatt’s a grown man, and I’ve warned that boy time and time again about carryin’ on with women. But of all the girls I could pick to be givin’ me my fi
rst grandbaby . . . I’m glad it’s you. You’re a smart, strong, and beautiful girl with a big heart.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  Mrs. Hennington shrugs. “Just tell me you’ll be careful with his heart and take care of that baby inside you.” She glances at my belly.

  “I will,” I promise.

  “Good. Now, tell me about what you’ve been up to.” She takes my hand as we catch up.

  I fill her in on all my very boring and uneventful days. I’ve gone by the Townsend’s each day, had lunch with Presley or Wyatt if he wasn’t busy, hung out with the boys, and then came home before him. It’s fun, but I need purpose. I can’t handle feeling like I’m useless. I’m not the stay-at-home kind of girl. I’m always busy, and if I have a lull, I find some new project to take on. Idle hands and all that.

  She’s excited to hear that Erin and I are mapping out a possible new location for the bakery. I don’t tell her about how tight our timeframe is or how worried I am about being able to open while we’re still relevant. The demand is high right now, and For Cup’s Cakes is more than willing to be the supply. But I’m here and can’t help Erin much.

  I need to do something. Decorating Wyatt’s bachelor pad isn’t as interesting as it sounds, even though he’s demanded that any purchase be paid for by him. I would’ve thought that spending his money would be fun . . . but it’s not.

  “What’s wrong?” Mrs. Hennington pushes.

  I debate not telling her, but the way she’s looking at me makes it clear she’s worried. “I’m bored. I work really hard back home and being here, sitting around, makes me a little stir crazy.”

  “Oh, sugar, I understand. I worked for Rhett since we bought the farm. It was one thing being a mother and looking after three boys, but I needed to really have something of my own. When I would go into the office, it was like I was livin’ again.”

  “Exactly.” She totally gets me, which is nice to have. Presley thinks I’m insane for feeling like this. She stayed home until the twins were in school, and even after she had her afternoons free, she didn’t really work until we opened the bakery. She was content being a wife and mom. I would’ve chewed my arm off.

  She nods in understanding. “Have you gone into town?”

  “And be gawked at?”

  Her head pulls back. “Don’t tell me those girls are bein’ mean.”

  “No, no.” I try to laugh it off, but she doesn’t look like she believes me. “I just feel like everyone is looking at me.”

  “You pay them no mind,” she commands. She sits quiet, and then her eyes brighten again. “Have you thought about working at the bakery in town? I’m sure they’d love to have you!”

  It’s a good idea. I can maybe learn a few things, too. My business has only been around a fraction of the time that bakery has, and there is a lot I could learn about how they’ve managed it. Sometimes it’s not about how much money you make that determines success, it’s about how you weather the storm. I feel this way about all things. When something is easy, it’s not worth as much to me. It’s the things I have to fight for that have the most value. On the other hand, I don’t plan to stay here long so there’s no point.

  “I don’t know. I would hate to leave them in a bind.”

  She tsks and pats my leg. “You don’t even worry about that. I’ll call Becca right away. Since Charlotte left, she’s been lookin’ for someone. Especially with the festival coming up next week. I’m sure havin’ you around would be a godsend.”

  Charlotte. The girl with big boobs and a fake smile. After Wyatt snubbed her, I was the object of all her hate. She bumped into me once, which didn’t go unnoticed by my best friend. Presley marched right over and laid into her. I saw Charlotte’s breath hitch as she nodded feverously. I can only imagine what was said, but it didn’t stop her from the constant dirty looks and whispers.

  “I think I’ve met Charlotte. She and Wyatt were . . . close.”

  Mrs. Hennington doesn’t miss a thing. Her eyes hone in, and she purses her lips. “I’m sorry about that, darlin’.” She shifts a little. “The thing is that all my boys have their appeal, I guess. Zach was the star baseball player, but everyone knew his heart was Presley’s. Trent,” Macie rolls her eyes, “he’s a mess that boy. He had the girls hangin’ around, but he was more worried about his friends. Then when he took the role of Sherriff, I lost that battle. But Wyatt? He’s always been something special.” Her smile is huge as she says it.

  “Special?”

  She nods. “Wyatt has a very different way of thinkin’. He’s kind, loyal, and always puts the needs of others first. I know the stories, believe me, I’m not blind. He might have been sowing his oats, but deep down he was searchin’ for someone. All those girls had dreams they were it. Charlotte’s no different. She wanted him to look at her, but when you’re actin’ like a hussy, a man won’t respect you. Those women want what you have, and they’ll try to hurt you, Angie. Don’t let them. Wyatt’s the kind of man that once you earn his love, you’ll have it forever. He’ll never betray you or desert you. It’s very special to have someone come into your life like that.”

  I listen to her speak of him with such adoration. The pride that exudes from each syllable is both unmistakable and familiar. It reminds me of the way Presley talks about him. She speaks about his loyalty and how he’d hurt himself for someone else. How he gave up his own happiness for her. How the only time he ever did something selfish was when Zach took over the Hennington Horse Farm and he left.

  Zach was dating this awful twat, Felicia, and she made Wyatt’s life hell. Her constant undermining and games were too much for him. He gave Zach the chance to get rid of her, but he didn’t. So, Wyatt went to work for Presley’s family.

  “Wyatt is a good man, Mrs. Hennington. I can see that, and I’m glad that if this had to happen with anyone . . . it’s him. The baby is lucky.”

  I truly mean that. If Wyatt Hennington is half the man they all say he is, our child is going to have one hell of a dad.

  Her eyes soften a little more. “You are, too, Angie. I can see already how much he cares for you. Now, tell me about some of the flavors you make up there in the North.”

  My head spins, and the seed of hope starts to take root. Now we have to see if it grows.

  “Hey, Big City.” He comes in the door with a grin.

  “I’m going to come up with a nickname for you.”

  Something he hates. Maybe Tiny Wanker or something to question his manhood. I know for damn sure he isn’t lacking there, but I have to find something super annoying.

  “Can’t wait to hear it, honey,” he says as he slaps my ass.

  He’s been great about my rules. He doesn’t even attempt anything at night, which I was most worried about.

  However, each night is growing increasingly harder for me. He now sleeps shirtless for one. It’s not only his bare skin that is getting to me, it’s also his scent. I close my eyes, and his cologne mixed with the clean smell that’s Wyatt overwhelms me. I can remember the way his sweat tasted as I kissed his body the last time when we had sex. I can feel the way his hands roughly touched each inch of my skin. Every time I lie next to him, it takes every ounce of my strength not to maul him. Plus, we wake up the same way each morning—tangled limbs and a very hard erection against me.

  I’m going to crack.

  And very soon.

  “You have a good day?” he asks as he places a soft kiss on my temple. I love that he does that. It’s as if he’s been doing it forever. Weird that in such a short time we’ve become so comfortable around each other.

  When I look at him, I don’t see the guy who knocked me up. I see a man who I could like. I see a man that I want to like me, and I want him to know me the way no one else has cared to do before. I worry that he could hurt me, which is always possible. Wyatt wouldn’t be a man I could come back from. I can see in his eyes the way he’ll own my heart and soul. If I give them to him, they will be his forever. His m
other confirmed that today.

  Wyatt crouches in front of me and places his hands on my belly. I don’t have a bump. If you didn’t know that I was pregnant you wouldn’t be able to tell. But we know, and each night Wyatt lets me know that he’s thinking of the baby in some small way. Sometimes it’s a simple touch, other times it’s a glance. Then, the other night, he rolled over and his palm rested there. He was sleeping and probably didn’t know he did it, but I do. I laid there, unable to move, feeling every emotion possible. It wasn’t as if he hasn’t done it before, but this time it was an unconscious, protective gesture. It was as if it was the most natural thing to do. To make sure that me and the baby were safe.

  Eventually, I draped my hand over his and fell asleep.

  “Baby?” he asks again, and I realize he’s calling me that, not the actual baby.

  I shake my head. “Oh, I did. I had an eventful day.”

  A slow grin forms across his lips. “Yeah? I can’t wait to hear it. I’m going to hop in the shower. Come in and talk if you want.” He wiggles his brows, and I laugh.

  “Persistent.”

  “Hedging my bets.”

  Wyatt turns and heads into the bathroom. I listen as the shower turns on and wait a minute. The truth is, I want to talk to him. I enjoy when he comes home and we have a little time to go over his day, because really, my day is boring.

  “Wyatt?” I ask from outside the door.

  “Come in!”

  This is a bad idea. “You better be in the shower,” I say as I open the door. Thankfully, or maybe not, he’s in, and I walk to the other side of the bathroom so I don’t see through the glass. “Your mom came by today.”

  He opens the door and leans out. I quickly turn my head. “Did she?”

  “Yup.”

  “What did Mama have to say?”

  I bet he’s worried. I decide to be a little playful. “She told me all about you. All the things to watch for.”

  The sounds of the water splashing do nothing to calm my imagination. He’s in there. Naked. And I’m out here, because I’m stupid. No, not stupid. I’m cautious and being smart.