Bedazzled (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 1)

by Madison Michael

  “And maybe everyone back home is right, Wyatt.” She looked stricken. “After all, I was doing this a long time before striking out on my own. I am almost broke and getting nowhere. Why should they believe in me? All indicators are that I am not good enough.” She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop chattering. “Sorry, it’s just hard to keep going when no one wants to show my work. It’s obvious that the experts don’t think I have what it takes. I guess they are right.”

  “Don’t give up yet,” Wyatt encouraged her now. “I believe in your talent, your strength and your determination, Keeli. You are an inspiration to me. You have done what I only dream of doing.”

  Blushing, Keeli murmured an awkward thanks and shifted direction. “Enough about me already, tell me about a typical week for the famous Wyatt Lyons Howe, IV.”

  “So formal? First, I am not famous.” She watched as he cooled to her instantly and knew she had hit a nerve, but not sure how. “My life is about meetings mostly, with sellers, with buyers, with architects, developers, city planners. Otherwise, I am looking at spreadsheets then meeting with investors, bankers, and lawyers. It’s pretty dull stuff.”

  Keeli knew that Wyatt was playing down the significance of his work, so she asked questions to find out more about his current projects - two large buildings being developed for Chicago’s up and coming South Loop neighborhood and a huge office complex in the western suburbs. These represented tens of millions of dollars, he explained nonchalantly, and a lot of time with his father.

  “The whole family is involved in the business,” he was explaining now. “My sister Regan would love to run the show, but my father won’t hear of it. He rules with an iron fist and questions and reviews everything we do. I feel like I am still in first grade with him, still on trial. It annoys the crap out of me.”

  Keeli heard the heat in his voice, but then he reined it in and continued, ”My brother Ethan trained as an architect and is involved with project design. Regan and I run the offices with my father. She is strategy. I am finance and technology, such as it is. We both do acquisitions. We all do the development work. Regan and I make a great pair behind the scenes but she loves the work more.”

  “And Melissa?” Keeli noticed he never mentioned the sister she met at the art fair. “She didn’t strike me as the real estate mogul type, somehow.”

  “Missy? She did a short stint running our HR department. She is really good with people and great with personnel issues, but right now she is a stay-at-home mom to my two perfect nieces.”

  Wyatt’s face took on an indulgent sweetness as he thumbed his phone before proudly displaying a photo of two adorable, sandy-haired girls.

  “The older one is Alden, she is three and just discovered ‘Frozen’. The little one is Abigail. She just turned one but she already wants to do whatever Alden does.”

  “They are so adorable.” Keeli loved watching Wyatt’s face as he showed her a few more pictures with such obvious love and pride. She could tell he loved his nieces, wondered if he might want children of his own. Keeli knew to bite her tongue rather than ask him. It was way too soon for those questions.

  “Do you see them often?” she queried instead.

  “They live up north, in Glencoe, but now that I have the Panamera, I see them more than before. I like taking the drive up there more than I did in the truck, so I visit pretty regularly.”

  “A truck? You drove a truck!” Keeli could not believe her ears. “I cannot picture you in a truck.”

  “Yep, mud flaps and everything,” Wyatt responded with pride. “I work at construction sites, remember?”

  “I didn’t realize. I usually see you in suits,” Keeli reminded him, gesturing to his beautiful gray suit. “From now on though, I will think of you like a ‘Wild West’ Wyatt. I have a completely new image of you. Less Wyatt Howe, more Wyatt Earp.”

  “Well, technically it is an SUV,” Wyatt laughed. “But it is a Land Cruiser, and so it handles like a truck. Does that make me suit guy or cowpoke?”

  They were both laughing as the server came to deliver their order. Keeli stole a quick glance at her phone and was surprised to realize they had been sitting over drinks nearly an hour. Wyatt ordered another round of drinks then reached across the table and took Keeli’s hand, removing the phone from her grip gently and running his thumb over her palm seductively.

  “Have to be somewhere else?”

  She quickly reassured him. "There is nowhere else I need or want to be." He flashed her a relieved, cocky grin and his thumb glided up to her wrist, then back to her thumb in a hypnotic rhythm. Keeli’s thighs tightened against each other in sudden arousal as she searched her now-empty brain for speech.

  Wyatt was searching Keeli’s eyes with his icy blue ones and she could see his lust there. He knew the effect he had on her, even here in a crowded restaurant. Keeli had that feeling she often got with Wyatt - that she was out of her depth.

  Her lips parted slightly and her tongue peeked out to moisten her bottom lip. Wyatt released her hand with a smug lift of his lips.

  Oh yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing to her. Exactly.

  “So, tell me what you do for fun, Keeli.” He was all politeness.

  He must have felt that right? He must know we keep sharing these incredible moments. How does he keep so damn calm?

  Keeli took a deep breath, mentally shaking off the desire that was consuming her completely from just that small stroke on her wrist.

  “I work two jobs, as you well know. I work art fairs on weekends and work in the studio during the week, so there is not much time for fun.” She sounded so wistful until she caught herself and changed tone, not wanting him to think she was complaining. “Not that I am unhappy, mind you. I just wish I had more free weekends. I have only been in Chicago a few years really, so I love to go to the art museums, the parks, the stores, ride my bike along the lake. I jog pretty regularly, watch movies, read, and hang out with friends - the usual.”

  “The usual,” Wyatt repeated, cynically. “None of that would be my usual, but I am thrilled to hear you like the art museums.”

  “Yes, I read that you raised a lot of money for them Saturday. Fine job, Mr. Howe, very fine job.” Keeli dropped her chin and her voice to sound like a pompous, old man and Wyatt laughed at her bad imitation while acknowledging her well-deserved accolades with shy pride.

  “Yes, thank you, that is more like my definition of ‘the usual.’ My usual is black tie fundraisers, a little tennis and golf with business associates, family dinners.” None of these sounded like fun as he said them. Keeli called him on it.

  “Those sound like obligations to me,” she voiced her opinion with a bit of trepidation. “What about fun, just plain fun?”

  “Hockey,” he said without missing a beat, “Playing and watching hockey. Great food, great music, great women.” Wyatt raised his eyebrows in a perfect Groucho Marx imitation, taking the sting out of the last words. “Spending time with you.”

  “Speaking of great food…” Her heart was hammering in her chest. Keeli felt a blush creep into her cheeks and changed the subject. She had never been one to pick at her food in front of a man but she backed off a bit from her usual habit of bending low over her food and shoveling. It was a bad habit she picked up living with brothers on a farm. Putting her fork down she reminded herself she was not on the farm anymore.

  “Mm, this is delicious,” she raved around a mouthful of chicken potpie. “Is the fish good?” She noticed that he was eating his fish and chips with a fork. “You idiot, just pick it up with your hands and make a mess. It tastes better that way.”

  Unlike Keeli, Wyatt did not speak with a mouthful, swallowing before answering. “I have never been here before but the food is very good. I picked it from Yelp because it had good reviews and it was convenient for you. Is it a regular spot for you?”

  “Not too regular, but I have been here before. Just pick it up,” she goaded him again, until Wyatt finally picked up the flakey
fish and took a huge bite.

  “OK, it does taste better this way,” he laughingly admitted. “Don’t tell my mother.”

  That allowed for an easy segue and the conversation flowed. They conversed easily over their food, about restaurants, Logan Square and how Keeli liked living there, about his friends and family, a little more about hers. When the server offered dessert, he checked with her before declining for them both and suggesting one last round of drinks instead. They agreed to move back to the bar.

  The server delivered the check and Keeli reached for her oversized bag. “What do I owe?” she asked sincerely.

  Wyatt looked shocked. “Nothing, of course, I can buy dinner.” She had obviously offended him.

  “I know you can,” Keeli offered, “but you bought last time and I thought it would be right if tonight I paid at least my fair share.”

  “Do you know how ridiculous you sound?” He was very offended, Keeli realized. “I have more money than God and you are offering to split the check?”

  Wyatt’s voice was rising. Keeli was not sure what she had done wrong, but she knew she needed to diffuse the situation.

  “I don’t date much, Wyatt. I thought this was the right thing to do.” She thought the excuse was lame, but it was all she could come up with. “Besides, just because you have money doesn’t mean I can spend it for you.”

  “Are you for real?” Wyatt’s anger dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. He handed his platinum card to the server and asked him to bring the receipt to the bar. He planted a kiss on the top of her head, well below his in her flat shoes.

  “Thank you for dinner,” Keeli offered in a small voice.

  “It was my complete pleasure,” Wyatt responded and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “My complete pleasure,” he repeated. “And Keeli,” he waited until she made eye contact, “I will always be the one to buy dinner. Got it?”

  Keeli nodded mutely understanding that something had shifted in their relationship. She could not tell if he was still angry but at least he had implied there might be a next time. She held on to that notion to get past the awkwardness of the moment.

  They found two stools at the bar and Wyatt helped her onto one before sitting facing her on the other. Her legs were caught between his strong thighs and he placed one hand on them lightly, the other idly stirring the ice in his scotch. His thumb started those lazy circles on her thigh that he seemed to make unconsciously.

  “I like you, Keeli,” he stated bluntly. “I really like being with you.”

  “I like you too Wyatt, and I like being with you,” she responded carefully wondering where he was going with the statement.

  “I would like to spend more time with you.”

  Nothing like just putting it out there. “I would like to see more of you too.”

  “Good. So, what is your schedule like? I am asking because I would like to take you to Ravinia for some music. Would that appeal to you?”

  “Oh definitely,” Keeli bounced with excitement. “I have never been to Ravinia, but I imagine it must be fantastic to listen to music under the stars on a beautiful summer night.” Since moving to Chicago, Keeli had seen the ads for Ravinia, a 36-acre park with an open pavilion and musicians from the symphony to heavy metal bands performing all summer.

  “There are some jazz greats in concert this Saturday. We could go?”

  “Oh I wish I could,” Keeli sounded so disappointed. “But I have the Milwaukee art fest this weekend so I can’t make it. It’s Milwaukee, so it is a big deal for me as well as a very late night.”

  “Another time?” He sounded less confident.

  “Definitely another time,” Keeli replied, “although I don’t know much about jazz.”

  “It’s a deal. So…Do you have plans in Milwaukee?”

  “Well, it depends on whether I rent a car or ride with Clarice I guess.”

  “Let me take you. I will drive you up and get us a place to stay, or do you already have one?” Wyatt was taking control of the situation a little quickly for Keeli’s taste, although the offer sounded fantastic. He was caught up in the planning, speaking faster and faster.

  A weekend with Wyatt. It would be paradise, but I have so much work to do. Ahh, screw the work Keeli. Take a chance.

  “Oh wait, I can’t do the whole weekend.” Wyatt was thumbing his phone as he spoke. ”I promised to be in Lake Forest Sunday for dinner. I could still take you up Friday and stay over until Sunday morning, if you could get a ride back? Lake Forest would be on my way home. And…If I can make it late enough, we can both go to my folks, then I could bring you home.”

  Even as the words left his mouth Keeli could see he was wishing he could take them back.

  Take her to meet his family after knowing each other a week? Well, knowing each other a year, but only dating a week? Besides, she was not his typical date and they both knew it. She would appall his family.

  “I could not impose on you like that,” she said now, helping them both save face. “It will be crazy for me Friday, leaving at the crack of dawn and setting up. I will miss seeing you but maybe we can do something the following week instead.”

  “We’ll see.” He sounded dejected.

  Maybe he is rethinking the whole ‘I like you’ thing. I guess I blew this one after all. Maybe he is just relieved that I turned down that dinner invitation. He dodged a bullet. We both did.

  “Actually,” he offered after a pause, ”I was thinking it was time to talk to my father about leaving the business. Sunday dinner would be a good time for that, so maybe it is better if I go alone.”

  “Wyatt, that is such a big step. Are you ready?” When he nodded yes, she continued, “I think it will go really well. You have a plan, potential investors, and they are your family. They love you and want you to be happy, right?”

  “Oh Keeli, you have no clue, do you?” He asked, no bite to the words, just an observation. “They may love me, but they love honor, duty and family tradition a whole lot more.”

  “So do you, you believe in all of those,” she encouraged him.

  “Really? Then why break with tradition and shirk my duty? That is the question he will ask me. My father will want to understand why I am willing to break his heart. It will not be pretty.”

  The mood was suddenly somber. Wyatt was shredding a damp, cocktail napkin, so Keeli put her hand over his, calming him. Wyatt folded his hand around hers, and wrapped his legs around hers pulling her to stand, leaning against him for balance.

  Wyatt tightened his thighs around her legs and reached his hands around either side of her face wrapping his fingers in the curls at the nape of her neck. Pulling her firmly toward him he kissed her softly, leaned back to look into her eyes. He must have seen what he was looking for because he hauled her still tighter against him, kissing her deep and hard, demanding for her to respond in kind.

  Keeli’s world was turning upside down. Wyatt had her surrounded with his hands on her face and neck, his legs holding her in a vise grip as his mouth plundered hers. The kiss was strong, warm and compelling. She returned it from the depths of her body, pressing her breasts hard against his unyielding chest, matching his tongue stroke for velvety stroke. There was a fluttering low in her abdomen as she slid even closer so that their bodies were touching from lips to hips. She could not get enough, did not care that they were in a public place. If he had tried to make love to her right there on the floor, she would have let him. She wanted him with her whole being.

  Fortunately, or unfortunately, he was aware of their surroundings. He slowly broke off contact, leaning back slightly, dipping in for one short last kiss, and then releasing her so that she fell back onto her stool. Her eyes cleared of their dazed look to find him smiling down at her like the cat that stole the cream. She gave him a shaky smile in return. She was still in a sensuous haze so he took her hand and helped her from the barstool as if she was a precious porcelain doll.

  “Let’s get out of here.” He was standing beh
ind her, hand on the small of her back, pointing her toward the door. His hand slipped lower as they maneuvered through the crowd, coming to rest on the curve of her behind. It was a longer version of that brief caress in the elevator last winter, but unlike the elevator encounter, she knew his hand was there intentionally, savoring her curves through the thin material of her dress.

  “Feels so good,” he mumbled under his breath. “Feels familiar.”

  Did he just say that or did I imagine it? Does he remember the elevator the way I do?

  When they were standing on the street in front of the restaurant she came to herself again. “I live that way,” she pointed north.

  “I am parked that way.” He pointed south. In unspoken agreement he took her hand and they walked toward his car. He stood tall and imposing above her. She shuffled a bit closer to him as they walked. There was nowhere she wanted to be more.

  The summer sun had set and the sky was shades of deep blue and black. Keeli and Wyatt stepped in unison, hands clasped, hips touching, moving from shadows to the halo of a street lamp, to shadow again. The air was warm and humid, a typical summer night. Wyatt had his suit jacket slung over his shoulder dangling from one finger. Keeli’s sweater was draped over the top of her hobo bag. She could feel the warmth of his skin through the fine cotton of his shirt; see the ripple of his muscles when he moved. She longed to run her hands over his taut body. They moved silently through the night, totally aware of each other.

  With a ‘beep beep’ Wyatt unlocked the car then he opened the passenger door, casually tossing his jacket behind the seat. He took her bag and sweater and dropped them onto the passenger seat, pulled her to him, closed the sleek door and leaned her against it. He rested his body against hers, sandwiching her between his warm skin and the cool metal.

  She loved the weight of him pressing against her, found his commanding presence an incredible turn on. He was looking at her like he wanted to devour her but he didn’t move, just pressed his body from hips to shoulders tight against hers, seeking something in her eyes.