Say You Want Me

by Corinne Michaels

  “Hi,” I coo to the horse. “You’re a big guy, huh?”

  Wyatt snorts. “Sure, the horse is big, but you call me little?”

  I shake my head. “He’s just jealous.” I pet the horse’s nose. He’s really a magnificent horse. He’s tall, with a shiny black coat and white speckles on his butt. I glance over at the side of the stall where his name is written. “Aww, you’re sweet, Desperado. And you’re a handsome boy.”

  “He’s an Appaloosa,” Wyatt says, coming next to me. His hand rubs Desperado’s neck, and then he pats it. “That’s why he has the spots.”

  “Do you have Appaloosas at the farm?”

  I don’t know a damn thing about horses. I probably should learn if I’m going to be a part of his life.

  “No, we breed mostly Quarter horses or Arabians. My mother had an Arabian when she was growing up, so my father indulges her. But Quarter horses are what most people want around us. They’re good for working, riding, rodeos, and just about anything else.”

  “Oh,” I say as if any of that makes a difference. Desperado moves slightly and then rests his head on Wyatt’s shoulder, and Wyatt obliges him with a neck rub.

  “You wanna go for a ride?”

  “Can I? I mean, I’m pregnant.”

  I don’t know the rules on that. I was only really concerned with the coffee thing. The doctor didn’t give me a list of restrictions other than the things that were obvious. Since I don’t smoke, and already knew wine and I were going on a break, I didn’t focus on the other stuff. I remembered no sushi from Presley’s pregnancy, and there’s no sushi place around here anyway.

  “You’re safe with me, Ang. We’ll walk slow. I’ll have the reins.”

  “Right,” I say. “But am I supposed to?”

  He steps away from the horse and takes my hand. “I’ve known plenty of pregnant women who ride early on. Plus, before they had cars, pregnant women had to ride. My guess is you’re fine.”

  “Let me Google.”

  Wyatt laughs. “Google away.”

  I grab my phone, searching for the answer. It says as long as I’m past my first trimester, not too big to sit in the saddle, and we take it slow then it’s okay to ride. Wyatt is more than experienced with horses, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.

  “Let’s saddle up, Little Buckaroo! I’m ready to ride.”

  Wyatt grumbles under his breath, and I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing. He’s so cute when I piss him off.

  I stand back and watch him work. He tacks up the horse (which he told me is the proper term, not “dressing” him.) I’m on Desperado and Wyatt is on a horse named Ginger Snap. I love that he’s riding the horse with the girly sounding name.

  “Am I doing this right?” I ask for the tenth time as we start to head back to the stables.

  “Yes, baby. You’re doing great.”

  We’re literally riding at the slowest pace ever, but I’m trying not to look like a terrified kid on a pony ride. Wyatt leans back in the seat, his hand out in front of him like a Marlboro commercial, and I’m clinging to the horn (again he corrected me after calling it the “Oh Shit! handle”).

  Once we settle in a little and I’ve loosened my grip, I turn to him and ask something that has been bothering me for a while now. “Wyatt, why didn’t you go back to working at your family’s farm after Felicia left?”

  He looks over with a sad smile. “I was bought out. When Zach came back, we all had to make a choice. Right there. Right then. My father was sick, and Mama couldn’t run it on her own since she had her hands full. Zach returned, and I figured he’d leave once he rehabbed his shoulder, but after a few months, it was clear he wasn’t going back. All three of us were fighting constantly. He brought on Felicia to help, he sold off a few horses that I had wanted to buy for myself, and Trent was being a fucking idiot. It was just bad.”

  I watch him as the emotions play across his face. I can see how there’s something underneath his words—a pain that still festers there.

  “Anyway,” he continues, “Trent was the first to decide he wanted out when he took the Sheriff position. Zach and I bought his share of the company, and we were evenly split with forty-nine percent of the company since Mama kept two percent. The agreement was she’d hold those shares so that we couldn’t bully the other one out.”

  “Makes sense. I’m guessing there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

  He nods. “I wanted the control and so did Zach. When he made Felicia his right hand, I lost it.” Wyatt turns his gaze to me and sighs. “You see, I’ve fought with my brothers my whole life, but this was like nothing anyone had ever seen. He said a lot of shit. Things that, no matter how much time has passed, still linger between us.”

  “I’m sorry. I know how much it hurts when you fight with a sibling.”

  And I know more than anyone. Joshua is the king of horrible things. Even as a kid, he would find my weaknesses and use them against me. It was his way of demonstrating his superiority.

  “Zach and I are fine now. We don’t talk about it. But I told my parents I wanted out. I sold all of my shares to Zach, and he took over. I left that day and went to Cooper, who gave me a job.”

  Wow. “And you’re okay with it now?”

  He looks off at the horizon. “Not at all. But I’ll never ask to buy back my half. It wasn’t Felicia as much as it was what my brother wanted to do to my parents’ company. It was how he approaches business. I believe that money doesn’t override loyalty. I feel like my father’s reputation was about how fair and generous he was. Zach wanted to take the company in a direction I was not okay with.”

  I decide that right now is absolutely not the time to say what I’m thinking. I started my business in a dog-eat-dog economy. You’re either the alpha or you get lost in the pack. Presley would be like Wyatt, she’d give free cupcakes to people who came in all the time, which only encouraged them to come back for more free stuff. It was horrible, and I had to stop it. I’m career minded, so I can see that Zach was only making smart business choices.

  “Well, I’m glad you guys seem to be okay now.”

  He nods. “We’re both happy. I love working for the Townsends. They’re good people, and Cooper pays me well—not that I need it.”

  My face whips toward him, showing how perplexed I am by that statement. “What?”

  We start to approach the stables and Wyatt hops off his horse. He comes around, grabs my hips, and helps me down. “Zach had to buy me out. I don’t need the money. I live well below my means, and I’ve saved a lot of money.”

  “I had no idea. I mean, we’ve never really talked money, but . . .”

  “I’m not rolling around in my dollar bills.” He laughs. “But I’m set for a very long time.”

  Wyatt’s hands wrap around my middle, and I curl into him. “You should know that I can take care of myself financially as well. My store was very profitable over the last few years, but with Erin buying in, it allowed me a lot of breathing room. I’m saying this because I think you should know that I’m not hard up for cash. I don’t ever want you to think that my motives are monetary.”

  I’ve seen the horror stories. All I want is for Wyatt to be a good dad to the nugget. It’s good to know that he’ll never slack on that part of things, but at the same time, I’m fine. I’m not a gold digger, and he needs to be aware of that.

  “I think it’s good for us to have these talks.” His lips inch close to mine. “It makes me realize just how lucky I am right now.”

  “Yeah?” I ask a little breathlessly as he grows closer. “Why is that?”

  “Because,” his lips graze mine, “I’m winnin’ your heart.”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. His mouth connects with mine, and I hold on tight. We both give and take through this kiss, and his words swim in my head as I lose myself to his touch.

  Everything feels so strong when I’m with him. If someone had told me this was how I would feel about him, I would’v
e laughed. Wyatt isn’t the man I ever thought I would fall in love with. I always saw myself with a business man. He would work downtown, we’d both come home from work, and go to a swanky restaurant for dinner. We’d go to New York when we wanted to see a show or head to the Outer Banks when we wanted the beach. No kids for a long time, if ever.

  Instead, I’ve fallen for a cowboy who has probably never been to New York, and I already have a baby baking in my belly. Definitely not in my plans.

  Yet, I’ve never felt as secure as I do right this second.

  If this is what happens when my plans go to shit, I can live with the consequences.

  On the way back to the cottage, Wyatt tells me we’re staying for two more nights, and that he wants me to relax and think of nothing. Even though we’re living together, it’s so different being here. I can’t fully explain it, other than this feels like a romantic getaway.

  In Bell Buckle, we’re living. Here we’re free of mundane day-to-day stuff.

  Tonight, we’re going out to dinner and from what I can tell, it’s definitely more upscale. I look through my bag, hoping to find something I can wear, and see my emerald satin cocktail dress. Presley did a fantastic job packing for me. I only brought two fancier dresses with me to Tennessee, and this is by far my favorite. I pin my hair into a messy updo and do my makeup a little heavier for dramatic flair. This dress calls for a little more of everything.

  I finish getting dressed and look myself over. The dress still fits perfectly. The front is a lower-cut top that crosses in the front, and it clings past my hips, ending at the knees. It’s extremely formfitting, and the baby bump I’ve been pretending is not there, is now very prominent.

  My hand rests against it as I suck in a deep breath. “You’re really in there.” My eyes won’t move from the spot. “I knew you were, but now I can see that you’re really in there.” I lean against the bathroom counter and look down at myself. It’s a moment. A big one for me. My baby, our baby, is there. Growing all on its own.

  I’m going to be a mom.

  I knew this, of course, but it’s really happening. There’s proof of it. It’s real.

  A tear falls, and I wipe it away. I’m overcome with emotions. These last four and a half months have been trying. I’ve really run the gamut of highs and lows. From being unsure of whether I could do this to knowing I would find a way. Then being so angry about having to move to now being upset that there is a little over a month left before I have to make a choice. Then there’s the feelings about Wyatt. Do I love him? Is it too soon? Has it always been written in the cards but I was too blind to see?

  Right now, I can’t believe how much love I have for this baby. This tiny little person I’ve never met has already become the center of my universe.

  I was so distraught about it, but now I want it more than anything.

  I look through blurry eyes, staring at the reflection in the mirror. “I’m going to have a baby.”

  Once I get myself under control, I fix my makeup and exit the bathroom.

  Wyatt stands in the middle of the room, wearing a pair of black dress pants and a white shirt. His dark hair is styled with little spikes on the top. His eyes roam my body, and a wicked gleam forms in his eyes.

  “You’re gorgeous.”

  “Look!” I place my hand over my stomach. “There’s a bump!”

  His big hand covers mine. I take a deep breath, inhaling his musky cologne as I commit this very moment to memory. Standing in this gorgeous house in Tennessee together with Wyatt’s hand and mine both covering our baby.

  Wyatt looks down and then up to me. Pride, love, and happiness fill his face. He moves both his hands to encompass my stomach and then drops to his knees. His lips press against my dress as he kisses my stomach. “I already love you, and I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with your mama.” He looks at me, and I cover my mouth with my hand. “So, you keep doing what you’re doing, and I’ll make sure I keep working on her.”

  The tears I had smothered before fill my vision. He rises so we’re eye to eye. “Wyatt.” I place my hand on his chest.

  “I’m going to find a way to keep you here, Angie. If you’re going to leave me, you better be ready for the fight of your life.” His hands cup my face. “Because I’m not letting you walk away, not without layin’ it all out. I won’t say anything else. Words are just words, baby. It’s the action behind those words that matter.”

  “Your words aren’t just words.” He presses his forehead against mine. “Your words are your truth.”

  “And my heart is yours.”

  And mine is yours. But I can’t say it. The words are stuck in my throat. But they’ve never felt more true.

  THIS LAST MONTH HAS BEEN amazing. Wyatt and I have settled into being a couple. He works at the ranch, I’m at the bakery three days a week, and we have our nights together. I still fall asleep in his arms after we wear ourselves out with all the sex.

  Today, though, I’m in a planning session at the bakery with the old biddies of Bell Buckle.

  “Angie can’t march in there and grab Presley,” Mrs. Townsend says with exasperation.

  “Maybe she can fake some kind of labor pains!” Mrs. Rooney says.

  Mrs. Townsend’s head falls in her hand. “She’s not even that far along! How would she have labor pains?”

  “Right,” Mrs. Rooney agrees. “Moving on.”

  All I’ve been doing is sitting quietly and eating cupcakes. I think I’ve figured out their process, though. One of them throws out an idea, two of them talk about it back and forth, the fourth explains why it’s dumb, and then they all move on. It’s hilarious and exhausting. All in all, it’s not a bad gig.

  Of course, I would much rather be spending the day with Wyatt. Yesterday we went back out on that stupid Gator thing as he showed me more of the property. We walked along the creek that’s between his and the Townsend’s property where we had a picnic, and then he showed me why living in the country is great for fooling around.

  We definitely couldn’t have had sex like that outside in the city. Well, not without an audience.

  I’m enjoying our newfound sex life. According to the book of horrors, I’m only going to get hornier, which is the silver lining to all this. Wyatt doesn’t seem to mind, and I’ve told him to enjoy it while he can.

  The only thing I have to do is address the elephant in the room—my leaving. He hasn’t brought it up, but then neither have I. I know we need to talk about everything, yet I haven’t found a good time. I’m not sure if I should go to Erin first or Wyatt. The last thing I want is to sever my ties to the bakery, only to find out that he doesn’t want more with me.

  So, I let it linger.

  But today is our twenty-week ultrasound. We’ll get to see the nugget and hopefully find out what the sex is.

  I’m hoping after we get through that and Presley’s bridal shower next week, we can iron out our future, because the idea of leaving him . . . cripples me.

  I glance at the ladies sitting around and decide to interject. “Why don’t I tell her I need her to run an errand with me?” I offer up, and they all laugh.

  Another idea gets thrown out and dismissed right away.

  Back to the cupcakes it is.

  “I know!” Mrs. Hennington grows excited. “Why don’t we have Angie call Presley, tell her she has to go across town to do something, and that she needs her help?”

  I swear I said that.

  They all look at each other as if she just spoke gospel. “Oh! That’s a great idea, Macie!”

  Really? I glance over at Mrs. Kannan. “Yes! So smart, and Presley will never expect it.”

  “Umm,” I say with bewilderment. “I just said that, and you shot me down.”

  “Not the point,” Mrs. Townsend says. “Can you go over there and take care of this? It’s important that she has no idea what’s going on. We’ve been plannin’ this event for a long time.”

  I’ve learned that Wyatt wasn’t exaggerati
ng when he said it was best to humor them. Presley isn’t a fool. She asked me last weekend to make sure she has her hair done and is dressed nice when she gets ambushed.

  Still, I know I can’t tell them that. “It’ll be no problem. I’ll make sure Presley is completely in the dark.”

  “Wonderful!” Macie yells. “Now, let’s talk about the balloons . . .”

  Being the maid of honor in a wedding typically means you have to plan stuff, not here. Not with these ladies. It means I sit back, eat glorious food, and pretend my opinion is at all wanted. It’s cute they invite me, but really, I’m just here for the food.

  Another half hour passes, and we’re all set.

  I say goodbye to everyone, but Macie hangs back.

  “How are you feelin’, sugar?” she asks as she loops her arm in mine. “Any sickness or cramping?”

  “Nope.” I smile. “This has really been a wonderful pregnancy. I’m so glad I didn’t have morning sickness at all. The only thing I’m having now is heartburn whenever I eat sweets. But no cramping like the book said, and I feel really good.”

  “That’s wonderful. I had great pregnancies with the first two boys. Wyatt, though . . .” She gives me a serious look. “He about killed me.” Who says something like that to a pregnant girl? “Today is the ultrasound?” she asks, completely missing the look of shock on my face.

  “Yeah, I’m meeting him back home in an hour and then we head over.”

  She pulls her shoulders up with excitement radiating off her. “So exciting!”

  “I can’t wait.”

  The last time that I got to see the baby was so early that I wasn’t even sure it was human. It looked like E.T.’s little brother holding a balloon.

  “Have you thought at all about staying a little longer?” She tries her best to look innocent, but it’s not an offhanded question.

  “I have,” I say and leave it there.

  “You’re going to leave me in the dark, huh?”

  I smile and nod. “I think Wyatt and I need to talk first. I hope you understand.”

  Macie pats my arm. “Of course I do, honey. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I want you to know that if you need anything . . .” she pauses. “I mean anything at all, you call me. And maybe after you find out whether my grandbaby is a girl or a boy you’ll let me go shoppin’?”