Walland

by Andrea Thome

  She watched her words sink in, feeling a little sick at hearing herself being so pragmatic. What if she was wrong to give him space? What if she decided she couldn’t live without him, while he realized he was better off on his own? She knew she couldn’t risk hurting him by not being absolutely sure, so she held her tongue, despite the urge to tell him she couldn’t imagine leaving him.

  Wyatt stood up, pacing toward the other side of the fire. He stood for a moment, lost in thought. He knew he was at a crossroads here; he could feel that the weight of his reaction would determine everything going forward. He decided to do what he’d always done when faced with an impossible decision. He went with his gut.

  He started speaking without turning to look at her.

  “I hear what you’re saying, and while it tears me up to think of you leaving, I understand why you think you have to.”

  He drew a ragged breath and turned around to face her, his face lit up by the roaring fire. She could see the raw emotion in his eyes from ten feet away.

  “I’m willing to take that bet, India. I think what we have here is so powerful, so all-encompassing and larger than life, that I’m willing to let you go to get you back.”

  She felt herself gasp a little. His words touched her deeply, but it was what he asked her next that would change everything.

  “I’ll let you go under one condition.”

  He started walking toward her, a different look in his eye altogether. This one gave her goose bumps.

  “You spend the next thirty-six hours letting me show you all the reasons to believe in us. Let me love you, India. Starting right now.”

  He reached for her hand, pulling her up out of the chair.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-THREE

  Wyatt led India inside the Airstream, ducking back out to make sure the fire was sufficiently dying. India watched him through the window as she slid out of her heels, his back testing the limits of his dress shirt as he worked to cover the remaining embers. India glanced around and noticed an old radio on the sink top and walked over to switch it on. The grainy sound of a Dierks Bentley song came on, urging her to move a little closer, closer. She shivered in anticipation and turned around to look out at Wyatt, but he was already standing in the doorway behind her, his hands clasping either side of the frame, one foot propped on the top step, watching her.

  Their eyes met, and Wyatt entered the trailer before she knew what was happening, closing the space between them. He held her face in his hands, brushing her cheek with his thumb.

  “Do you know what you do to me?”

  He heard her sigh, her eyes closing and then opening as she answered him.

  “This isn’t fair, Wyatt. You’re not playing fair.”

  She moaned as he roughly tugged his jacket off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. His lips found the side of her neck, their softness contrasting with the rasp of his stubble and making her insides turn to jelly.

  “No one said anything about playing fair, India. I want you, and I’m taking what I want.”

  He was consuming her, the sensation of his mouth on her enough to make her surrender before the battle had even begun.

  Her hands made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, tearing the last two open impatiently in a need to get her hands on him. His muscled torso was the definition of sexy, and she slid her hands down his arms as she peeled his shirt off before she could stop herself.

  His hands were roaming now too, gliding up and down the silk of her dress, the flimsiest of barriers between them. He forgot himself when she began to undo his belt, sliding it out of his pants in one quick motion, the heavy buckle dropping to the floor with a thud. She stared at him with a challenge in her eyes.

  He had her now. He reached for her again, but she stepped back, away from him.

  Her eyes were smoldering as she turned around and gathered her loose hair up in her hands, giving him access to the drawstring of her dress.

  “Undress me, Wyatt,” she said, as if he needed any direction.

  He stepped toward her and reached for the silky cord, pulling it slowly until it released, the dress skimming off her body and into a pool at her feet.

  She stepped out of it, but instead of turning toward him, she glanced over her shoulder as she walked slowly toward his bed.

  “Are you going to stand there all night, or were you going to try and convince me of something?”

  Yep. He was definitely in over his head. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

  He knew that Michelangelo, if given the choice, would have chosen to immortalized her over David any day. She was perfect, and he memorized every curve as she walked away from him.

  He closed the gap between them in a hurry, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around to face him. He took her hands in his, intertwining their fingers, pulling back to look at her once more.

  “You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met, India. I’m consumed by you, and I’m about to show you just how much.”

  He pulled her back to him, every inch of her against him now, and kissed her urgently.

  India heard the warning bells but ignored them. Somehow, she knew that this was the point of no return, but if that were so, then she never wanted to go back. She deepened their kiss as she reached down between them, unbuttoning his pants and sliding them and his briefs down in one swift motion.

  Wyatt stepped wildly out of both garments, the air between them electric now as they fought to maintain both the kiss and the ability to breathe at the same time. He gasped as she took him in her hand, pulled him up against her, and began to stroke.

  She filled up his senses, and before he could stop himself, he’d pushed her toward the bed, both of them falling together in a tangle on top of the down comforter.

  India could feel how much he wanted her, but her need to regain control took over.

  She rolled him onto his back, pinning his hands above his head. He couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked, her hair tangled and wild, the skin of her neck and shoulders pink from him. She gave him a half smile before tossing her hair to the side and scattering kisses down his torso, her fingers tracing a circle around him.

  Wyatt was writhing around, trying his best to let her take the lead, but it was impossible. When her hair scattered across his chest, it was all he could take, and he pulled her back up to him. He rolled her over onto her back and poised himself just above her.

  She could feel him there, ready to merge them together, but he stopped. Looking into her eyes, his face was as serious as she’d ever seen it.

  “I’m so in love with you, India. I hope that, no matter what, you know that now and always.”

  She pulled him down into her then, the two of them lost in each other, but also found.

  They had no idea what time it was, but the light outside had changed as the moon prepared to switch places with the sun. She got up and wrapped herself in the fleece blanket, padding over to the doorway to peek outside. Morning was breaking, and she could hear the birds announcing the start of another day.

  Her last full day with him.

  She was resting her head against the doorjamb, considering it all, when she heard the click.

  She glanced over to where she’d left Wyatt in bed. He was awake now, his camera in his hand, pointed at her. She smiled shyly at him, reaching up instinctively to smooth her hair. He lowered the lens.

  “I never want to forget how you look right now, in this light. I hope we can look at this photograph in forty years and tell our children that this is the moment their mother decided she couldn’t live without me.”

  India walked back over to the bed, crawling in next to him. She laid her head on his chest as he wrapped them both in the comforter.

  “You have my heart, Wyatt. I just need to make sure that I can fully give myself to you, and I won’t know that until I get back to the life I’ve worked so hard to build. I’m not sure how important that life is anymore, and that
terrifies me, especially since it’s only been a week. I need some perspective, and I know you can’t see it now, but you do too. You deserve someone who can give themselves to you completely. I don’t know if I’m capable of that. Yet.”

  She propped her head up on her elbow and looked at him.

  “I don’t want to put a time frame on it. I think we’ll both know when we know. But maybe for the first couple of weeks, we should try not to talk so we can get real clarity.”

  She saw his frown and placed her hand tenderly on his cheek.

  “I know that if I hear your voice, I’m not going to be able to think clearly. We have to figure out if this can work for real, Wyatt. That will only come with time and space.” He rolled onto his back and sighed.

  “I know you’re right, India, and I hate that I seem so needy. I promise you I’m not that guy. It just sucks when you meet the person you want to call your family . . . and . . . I guess I just want to start building that life without wasting another minute.”

  He looked at her.

  “I’m the man I want to be when I’m with you. But I understand that sometimes you have to tear something down first to build something better. I’m willing to bet on us.”

  She smiled, her eyes full of tears, and leaned over to kiss him.

  “I love you, Wyatt Hinch. There’s no mistaking that. Let me show you how much.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FOUR

  It was the final day of the workshop, and Wyatt was teaching, so he drove India back to Woodshed so she could change her clothes. On the ride, she glanced over and saw him clamp his hand down over his mouth, a poor attempt at hiding a huge grin.

  He was so handsome. His curls were still damp from their shower, and he’d trimmed his whiskers a little closer, showing off his chiseled jawline. She could’ve stood there all day watching him shave, wearing only a white towel around his hips.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  She could tell he was trying hard not to laugh. He was perfection in a simple black T-shirt and jeans.

  “I was just thinking that if we keep this up, I’d better get a sign to hang on the Airstream door, ‘If the trailer’s rockin’, don’t come knockin.”

  He stole a look at her and laughed even harder when he saw her jaw drop.

  “What? I mean, it was about time I broke her in! I owe you one, really.”

  He was obviously pleased with his attempt at humor.

  “You did not just say that! Wyatt!” She couldn’t help it, cracking up in spite of herself.

  It was so easy between them.

  He’d made them both coffee before they’d left, thinking as he’d added creamer to hers that he could get used to doing that small kindness for her for the rest of his life. He prayed she’d give him the chance.

  They were rounding the bend by the barn, just across from Susan’s house, when he pulled the truck off the side of the road and threw it in park. Reaching into the backseat, he pulled out his camera bag and started to open it.

  “C’mon. We have a minute,” he said. “I want to photograph you on the bridge.”

  India looked at him like he was crazy. She was wearing her dress from last night, with Wyatt’s blue shirt over it, tied in a knot to hide where she’d ripped his buttons. Her feet were bare, her shoes on the backseat.

  “Oh, you want to capture my ‘drive of shame’ look?”

  India rolled her eyes at him, convinced he was still teasing her.

  Wyatt had taken his camera from the bag and removed the lens cap, but he stopped at her words. He turned his shoulders so he was facing her head-on.

  “A photograph is about capturing a feeling, a moment in time. I want to remember this morning with you forever, India. Besides, you manage to look more beautiful every second I spend with you. Blackberry Farm agrees with you. Or maybe love does.”

  He reached over and gave her a tender kiss.

  She sighed when he pulled away.

  “Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no? I just hope nobody comes along and sees me barefoot and in my clothes from last night. Make it quick.”

  She flipped down the visor mirror to take quick stock of her face, which was completely devoid of makeup. She pinched her cheeks and borrowed a swipe of his ChapStick from the cup holder, running her fingers quickly through her knotted hair. Wyatt had come around to her side and opened her door, and as she stepped onto the running board to get down, he scooped her up in his arms.

  “Allow me. I don’t want you to step on anything sharp.”

  He carried her the few yards to the bridge, setting her gently down on the weathered boards, but not before kissing her once more, deeply this time.

  The sun was just cresting in the meadow behind the bridge, lighting India up from behind. Wyatt backed up a few feet and looked at her through his lens.

  She was exquisite. Her hair told the story of their time together in bed, the golden light of the sun illuminating it like a halo around her head and shoulders. He could just make out her expression, the love in her eyes. His heart skipped a beat. She was his muse, and he would never have another. As he snapped the picture, he knew it would be magnificent but that it could never tell the whole story as perfectly as this moment did.

  He walked back over to her, scooping her up again, and carried her back to the truck.

  “Promise me that when you’re back in New York, you’ll find a place to get quiet and hear the answer, India.”

  She looked up at him, not certain what he meant.

  “I just mean . . . when you’re figuring out what you want. You’ll have to be quiet to hear the answer. I can hear it now, when I’m with you.”

  He held her gaze.

  “Love is the answer,” he said.

  Susan had gone out to the garden to cut some fresh mint for her morning tea when she saw Wyatt’s truck pull off by the bridge. She watched the two of them, Wyatt photographing India, the love between them evident. Susan felt like a voyeur.

  She hadn’t realized that she’d been standing there with her hand over her heart until she heard the screen door slam, and looked back to see Finn coming down the steps in his overalls.

  “Good morning, Susie. What’s got you out here rooting around so early?”

  He looked across the drive to where Wyatt was carrying India back to the truck, smiled, and reached down to grab Susan’s hand.

  “I never thought I’d live to see it, Sue. He’s finally opened up, after all this time. Hell of a woman there, to finally get through to the ornery cuss.”

  He looked over at her as it dawned on him that she might have mixed emotions.

  “Is it hard for you to see him with someone else?”

  Susan sighed, shaking her head and smiling sadly.

  “You know, I wondered if it would be, but strangely, it’s comforting to see him so happy. It feels like his love for Claire wasn’t the ruin of him after all, and I’m glad of that. I’ve lived with the guilt of encouraging them to marry when I knew there was no hope for years. It feels like that spell is finally broken. India is an incredible, accomplished woman, and I think she’s a great partner for him.” Finn nodded in agreement.

  “She’s a perfect match for him, if you ask me,” he said.

  Susan raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, a question on her face.

  “I’m just worried that she won’t realize that what they’re experiencing is so rare, that her job will be too much to walk away from. She has a big life in New York. What if she’s leaving here before they’ve really had enough time to solidify what they’ve started? I worry that Wyatt won’t bounce back from a broken heart this time. I wish there were a way to convince her to stay longer, let this love take root.”

  She reached down to pick up her basket of herbs, placing the mint on top and gathering her garden gloves and shears.

  “Look how long it took us, for Pete’s sake! We wasted decades, when we both just wanted to be together. What a couple of mule
s.”

  Her steely blue eyes looked up into his.

  “I’m not wasting another day, Finn Janssen. I know I’m not the young woman that you had a crush on all those years ago, but if last night is any indication, we still have a few good years ahead. Why don’t we show those kids by example? When you know, you know, right?”

  She set the basket back down, grabbing both of his hands in hers. She could stare up at his handsome, suntanned face all day long, particularly when the lines of his eyes were crinkled up in a smile like they were now.

  “I know this is crazy, but why should we waste another minute? This farm—this common ground we stand on—it’s a place we created together, Finn. I want to grow old here with you.”

  He raised a brow at her. She smiled.

  “OK, older, then. I want to live with you here in this place we’ve made. And I want to do it as your wife. What do you say? Will you marry me, Finn? And will you do it tonight, after dinner, surrounded by our guests? What better way to make them feel at home?”

  He smiled at this woman who’d been a partner and friend to him for so many years. Be damned if she couldn’t still surprise him. He took his hat off and rubbed his head, looking at her incredulously.

  “Susie, nothing would make me happier than to wake up as your husband for the rest of my days. And, as for tonight, it just so happens I’m free. What exactly did you have in mind?”

  “I’ll fill you in on the details once we’ve consummated this engagement.”

  She stood on her tiptoes, reaching up to give her fiancé a kiss.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Jack Sterling could count on a solid five hundred retweets on any given day. He’d created quite a following for himself on social media after his life-and-death tweet from the plane and his subsequent failed attempt at marriage. He’d managed to parlay the drama into his own little cottage industry, and his fans were insatiable.

  That morning, when he’d retweeted the article he’d anonymously fabricated for Page Six, he’d rocketed up over twelve thousand retweets. Apparently, the public was still hungry for details about “Jindia,” and he’d been happy to provide them.