by Barb Han
And that stopped her in her mental tracks.
How great would it be for Aubrey to feel loved by her father, too?
Meg had to admit the notion brought warmth to her chest and a sense of calm came over her. Having someone else for Aubrey to count on seemed almost too good to be true. Meg had no memories of her own father, so this was new territory. He’d ditched both her and her mother long before Meg was old enough to recall anything about him. Pain pierced her chest.
“What’s wrong?” Wyatt was staring at her. One of his brows was arched like he was looking at a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.
“I’m okay,” she said quickly. A little too quickly. “Look, I’m new at this whole ‘having two involved parents’ thing, so forgive me if I’m no good at it.”
“Same goes here.”
“Your father was Maverick Mike Butler,” she said. “And you never shared that with me when we dated before.”
“Would it have made a difference?”
“No. But that’s not the point.” She wished he’d trusted her enough to tell her.
“Then I’m lost. What is?” he asked, that same puzzled look on his face. He really had no idea what she was talking about.
“Forget it,” she said. “Let’s just promise to keep working together until we figure this out. I’m sure coparenting is like anything else you do for the first time. It takes practice in order to get it right.”
Being in a room with Wyatt when her nerve endings hummed with need probably wasn’t the best idea. It had been a long time since she’d had sex and not because of an outdated belief that single mothers should stay home 24/7 but because the reality of caring for a baby left her too exhausted to leave the house.
And then there was Wyatt. Sex with him had been over-the-top incredible at least in part because of their physical chemistry. Wyatt was sex in a bucket with his easy charm, devastating smile and brilliant mind. His sense of humor and good looks had been so good at seducing her. She’d let her emotions get away from her on something that was supposed to be a stress-relieving, take-time-out-for-herself fling.
The minute she’d realized her mistake in developing real feelings for him, she’d retreated. She could see now that she’d hurt his feelings, which caught her off guard. Or maybe he was just still stinging from her rejection. She highly doubted that Wyatt was the type of guy to lick his wounds for too long when it came to any woman.
Yet, she couldn’t deny there was something she couldn’t quite put her finger on that seemed genuine about his emotions. It had to be more than her wishing it to be true.
Chapter Thirteen
Meg needed to keep up her guard. Experience had taught her that she had the power to hurt others she was close to, break them, really. Like after Mary Jane’s abduction when her own mother started drinking. She’d lost her job and then their home. Nothing had been the same afterward and Meg knew that her mother had secretly blamed her. And that was ironic, too, because Meg already blamed herself.
The new “uncle,” who had had so much promise, according to her mother, cut his losses. He’d left town for a new job and said he’d send for them. Not long after, his cell number didn’t work and he all but disappeared.
Meg had watched her mother sink into a deeper depression, drink more, stay in bed long past morning. It wasn’t long before social services started regular visits. Her mother had been able to get her act together enough to apply for welfare and keep up appearances, but their relationship was never the same.
The day after Meg had graduated from high school, her mother took off. She left two hundred dollars along with a note, telling her she’d be better off on her own.
The two hadn’t spoken since.
Meg could place blame on her mother for leaving. Having stuck around for the next eight years after the life-changing incident had seemed to drain the life out of the woman.
Speaking of which, Meg picked up her phone and called Stephanie.
“I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing,” Meg said. Her friend’s voice was a welcome relief from heavier thoughts.
“Better,” Stephanie said. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I can go back—”
“It’s best for you to stay where you are for now at Wyatt’s place,” Meg said. When Stephanie didn’t respond, Meg added, “As a favor to me if nothing else.”
The line was quiet.
“Stephanie?” Meg’s fear radar jacked up.
“I’m here,” she reassured. “I’m sorry about your friend.”
Meg hadn’t checked online, but she feared her story had been slapped across headlines by now. The sheriff wouldn’t release an important detail but there were others at the scene of Aubrey’s attempted kidnapping. “Thank you.”
She cringed, waiting for the accusations it had been her fault or the judgment that came with knowing she was there and couldn’t remember or help.
“It’s unfair that happened to both of you. And so young.” There was kindness and compassion in Stephanie’s voice.
“Did you get any rest?” her friend asked.
“Some,” she responded. “But I’m more worried about you right now.”
“Me? I’m fine. I slept twelve hours last night and woke feeling the best I have in months. But what I’m hearing from you is that you haven’t slept yet.” Stephanie knew her a little better than Meg was comfortable with at the moment.
Meg stood with her back against the counter. “Not really. But I did lie down for a while and feel more refreshed.”
“How’s the baby?” Hearing how Stephanie’s voice morphed from overprotective mama to basically a glop of goo almost made Meg chuckle. Under different circumstances, she would do just that but nothing had been funny in her life for a long time.
“She’s been great under the circumstances,” Meg admitted.
“And the cowboy?” There was a hint of admiration in her voice.
“You mean Wyatt?”
“Yeah, that guy. How’s he doing with all this?” Stephanie asked.
“How do you know he’s still with me?” Meg didn’t mask her surprise.
“I saw the way he looked at Aubrey,” she said.
Meg could admit to witnessing the same. There was something warm and reassuring about another human being loving her daughter so much. Meg’s world had consisted of her mother and no one else. When she lost her mother to drinking—drinking that was Meg’s fault—the world had tumbled down around her. A surprising tear sprang to her eye just thinking about the past.
Meg wanted—no—needed so much more for her daughter. She saw her daughter surrounded by people who loved her. She saw birthday parties with kids playing and laughing. She saw Wyatt doting on their daughter. And a little piece of her heart saw a wedding band on his finger.
It was a childish fantasy to think that a child’s parents had to be married for life to feel complete. All Aubrey really needed was two parents to love her. It didn’t matter whether they lived in the same house or not. Heck, some kids thrived with one involved parent, and Meg had seen all too many cases where one parent was a detriment to the child.
Meg had already made up her mind that her past relationship with Wyatt had nothing to do with Aubrey. How silly was that? He was Aubrey’s father. And the two of them were certainly going to have to continue to work at figuring out how to parent together.
It was probably a mix of almost losing her daughter coupled with the emotions of the pending holiday and the past being dredged up that had Meg ready to abandon reason for fantasy. Aubrey had a mother who loved her and that was so much more than Meg had had.
“You know she can stay with me here at the complex,” Stephanie offered. “Since you didn’t hear me the first time I said it.”
“Sorry. I’m distracted.” She faked a yawn. “I don’t want to draw any mo
re heat to Ava’s operation. She’s already doing us a huge favor by taking you until this...situation...is cleared up.”
“It’s quiet there,” Stephanie conceded. “You should lie back down and seriously try to sleep. You know she’ll have you up every few hours.”
“I will.” Meg said before ending the call. Why was it that hospital nurses and pretty much every caring-for-a-newborn blog told new mothers to sleep when the baby slept? If Meg did that she wouldn’t get any work done, her house would be a complete wreck and she’d—
“What’s wrong?” Wyatt stepped into the kitchen, fresh from a shower. His curly hair seemed darker when it was wet and she didn’t even want to think about the fact that he’d been naked a few minutes ago.
She cleared her dry throat in order to speak. “Nothing. What makes you think something’s wrong?”
He glanced at her hand and then locked on to her gaze. “You’re white-knuckling your cell. Did something happen?”
“Oh.” Meg tried to force her fingers to relax on the phone. When that didn’t work, she set it on the counter. Turning to grab a mug and make a cup of tea, she heard Wyatt walk up behind her. She felt his presence when he got close and her body hummed with electricity.
She took in a sharp breath when she realized how close he was—a breath that ushered in his fresh-from-the-shower masculine scent.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said, and he was so close she wouldn’t have to move much more than an inch to be body-to-body with him.
“It was a mistake.” He might be standing so near that her heart thundered in her chest and her pulse pounded, but she didn’t want to give away the effect he had on her. She refused to maintain eye contact as she turned to face him.
He lifted her chin up.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about that kiss,” he said, and her gaze locked on to his.
“It shouldn’t have happened,” she said, figuring he was about to say the same. This way, she could head him off at the pass.
“I’m glad it did,” he said, surprising her.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because it reminded me that I’m alive. I’m human. I make mistakes—”
She held up her hand, effectively cutting him off before he could go all macho on her. “Apologizing for kissing me isn’t necessary and it might just hurt my feelings.”
“Good.”
Meg made the mistake of locking eyes with him again. “So you want to make me feel bad?”
“I didn’t say that.” He issued a sharp sigh. “I had no plans to apologize. I’m relieved that saying sorry isn’t required.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “And I’m no good at feelings.”
“You already have hurt me,” she countered, but there was no emotion behind the words.
“By doing this?” He dipped his head and captured her bottom lip gently between his teeth.
“Yes.” She drew out the word as he released it. His breath smelled like her favorite peppermint toothpaste and a unique mix of all that was Wyatt, because she was certain her brand didn’t taste like this straight out of the tube.
Wyatt took a step toward her, closing the small gap between them, and her body stiffened. He looked into her eyes; his were hungry and primal, and she gasped as their bodies pressed against each other. His chest was a wall of muscled steel with a silky exterior, and she should know because her hands gripped him in an almost laughable attempt to push him away. Instead, her fingers dug into his shoulders. Instinct took over and she pulled him toward her.
“What about this?” He dipped his head again, skimming his lips along the line of her collarbone, her neck, across her jawline...
Until he found her mouth and hovered just out of reach. Her lips stung with a need for contact. Every uniquely feminine part warmed, and there was such a strong sense of urgency building inside her, like a tsunami that would obliterate everything in its path when it made landfall. And yet she didn’t care about the destruction it would leave. Not when he was this close and her senses overrode rational thought.
Wyatt looked at her one more time with a question in his eyes. His hands came up and cupped her face as they made contact.
She nodded so slightly that she could tell he almost missed it. Almost. Until she realized his pupils dilated right before he kissed her.
Meg parted her lips to allow better access, and he took the invitation immediately, sliding his tongue inside. His tongue slicked across hers. He tasted even better than she remembered and her body cried out for more contact. He seemed ready to take it slow, and that only built up the wave gathering momentum inside her. Her body was strung tight with tension.
Meg dropped her hands and ran her fingers along the strong wall of his chest, letting her fingertips linger on his long, lean muscles. He took a half step back and pulled his shirt over his head in a heartbeat, tossing it to the floor. Speaking of things being better than she remembered, his body was in a whole new stratosphere of muscled strength. She smoothed her palms over his pecs as he unbuttoned her blouse.
She shrugged out of it, and a moment later the thin material joined his on the floor.
A primal grunt issued from Wyatt as he took in her almost fully bared breasts. His thumb ran across the lace of her flesh-colored bra, sending goose bumps racing up her arms. Awareness skittered across her sensitized skin as he outlined the thin material. Her nipples pebbled and her breasts swelled from needing contact.
Urgency was building from a deep place inside her, sending impulses shooting through her sensitized body.
“You’re even more beautiful, Meg,” he said, trailing his finger around her beaded nipple. He rolled one in between his thumb and forefinger, causing her breasts to swell with need, her body to hum.
The words were appreciated but unnecessary because the look of appreciation in his eyes stirred more emotion and physical attraction.
Without waiting for him to take the lead, she unzipped her jeans, popped the snap and wiggled out of them until she was standing there in her bra and underwear. Under any other circumstance this would be awkward.
With Wyatt, she felt adored and at ease.
Of course, his charm had been all too good at seducing her before, and that same skilled smile overtook his lips now. She pushed up to her toes and kissed him, pressing her body to his before he could say anything.
He leaned against her until her bottom met the hard countertop. Her hands flew to the buttons on his jeans.
It took two seconds flat for him to join her and have his jeans, boxers included, added to the clothing pile on the floor.
His erection pulsed and strained against her midsection as he freed her from her silky bra. She stepped out of her panties next and he grunted another sound of appreciation. Before either could talk themselves out of what was going to happen next, she hopped onto the countertop and wrapped her legs around his toned stomach. He stepped toward her, into her, as she guided him inside her slick heat.
He cupped her breasts as she worked her hips to allow him better access. And then his hands dropped to her bottom as he thrust inside her, taking her breath away. He looked into her eyes as he drove deeper.
“I missed this. You,” he said in a low, gravelly voice.
“Me, too, Wyatt,” she said, wishing that it could last longer than today. Knowing that was unrealistic.
In that moment, she didn’t care a bit. She tightened her grip around his waist and pressed her body against his. In a swift movement, her bottom left the hard granite and he was carrying her into the master bedroom. The baby slept in the room next door.
They both came down hard on the bed, entangled in each other’s arms and legs. Both laughed, but all Meg could really feel was how good he felt on top of her, his solid weight pressing her deeper into the mattress. This was h
ome to her and in that moment she knew he felt the same way. He paused long enough to retrieve a condom and sheathe himself.
He looked into her eyes with so much adoration, her heart stirred, and that was dangerous ground. Sex was one thing, an easy thing when it came to Wyatt. Emotions were a slippery slope they had yet to figure out how to navigate effectively.
Wyatt pressed his lips to hers and drove his tongue inside her mouth in an air-grabbing kiss. All reason, all hesitation flew out the window. All that mattered was the fleeting feeling Meg had right now—love. Love?
Meg clasped her legs around Wyatt and bucked him deeper. He responded in kind until they met a fever pitch reaching faster and higher, their bodies so tense she felt like a bomb about to detonate. Meg’s body was alive with sensation she hadn’t felt in so long...since the last time with Wyatt.
He matched her stride for stride as they climbed to the summit together and stood at the edge not yet ready to trust and completely let go. Need overtook every rational thought...a need to release all the tension in her body.
Instinct and need took over, and Meg relinquished control. She raised to a fever pitch until she could no longer fight the pressure. She dove off the cliff into pure pleasure and sensation, and fireworks being lit at the same time.
Wyatt’s body, still taut, drove deeper until, with a primal noise of release, he detonated inside her. She could feel his erection pulsing and releasing until his body seemed drained.
He rolled onto one side and positioned her in the crook of his arm. His breathing was coming out in jagged gasps.
“I’m done for,” he said through raspy breaths. “In serious trouble.”
She had no idea what he meant by that.
But she hoped it meant more than it probably did.
Curled against him, Meg drifted off into a deep sleep.
Meg couldn’t be sure how much time had passed when a sudden noise startled her awake. Meg sat bolt upright. She scanned the dark room and patted the empty bed.
Wyatt was gone.