by Sara Daniel
Cover
Title Page
Wyatt’s Guilt
A Finally Ever After Story
Sara Daniel
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An imprint of
Musa Publishing
Copyright Information
Wyatt’s Guilt, Copyright © Sara Daniel, 2012
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
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This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.
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Musa Publishing
633 Edgewood Ave
Lancaster, OH 43130
www.musapublishing.com
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Published by Musa Publishing, December 2012
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This e-Book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this ebook can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.
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ISBN: 978-1-61937-433-1
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Editor: E. Schraeder
Cover Design: Kelly Shorten
Interior Book Design: Coreen Montagna
Content Warning
This book contains adult language and scenes. This story is meant only for adults as defined by the laws of the country where you made your purchase. Store your books carefully where they cannot be accessed by younger readers.
Dedication
For my brother and his high school sweetheart
Chapter 1
NICOLE DEMONDE EXPECTED TO REGRET her idiotic high school mistakes as she returned to her hometown for her brother’s wedding. What she didn’t expect to regret was renting the little red sports car.
Steam rose from under the hood as she tried to restart the engine. Her already jumpy stomach turned a sickening flip. Shoving her thick black hair over one shoulder, she rummaged in her purse for her cell phone.
A moment later, she tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. The rental company was apologetic but ultimately unhelpful. Her brother, Zane, wasn’t answering his phone, as usual. His bride, Julianne, hadn’t picked up either, which was less expected but not surprising considering she was probably knee-deep in last minute preparations.
Zane was Nicole’s only family, and she’d lost contact with everyone else in town after their mother passed away. She was already late for the dress fitting. Zane and Julianne’s wedding was tomorrow…rescheduling wasn’t an option.
Well, she had two functional legs and was within sight of the “Dentonville, population 1,463” sign. Maybe if she walked she could still manage to drop a pound or two before she squeezed into her maid-of-honor dress. Nicole tugged on the hem of her tailored red suit to keep it from riding too high up her thighs as she stepped out of the car.
As she yanked her carry-on suitcase from the trunk, a police car flipped on its blue and white flashers. It swung in a U-turn to pull behind the broken down rental. She squinted through the bright sunlight reflecting off the windshield, trying to see if the officer was the same one who’d lived a couple doors down when she was kid. Maybe she could convince him to give her a ride.
She couldn’t see through the glare until the cop opened his door. Then a familiar chiseled face came into focus. Oh no, not Wyatt Truman.
He hesitated a moment as he met her gaze. A flash of something crossed his face. Regret, maybe? It was gone so quickly she’d likely imagined it.
Nicole hoped she’d masked her own shock quickly enough. She’d expected to see him. He was Julianne’s brother, after all. She just didn’t plan to spend a moment alone with her colossal high school mistake.
He swaggered toward her, broad-shouldered and clean-cut in his crisp, blue uniform. “Car trouble?”
“Apparently.” Nicole resisted the urge to tug on her blazer and cross her arms defensively. The grand plan to zip into town looking flashy and sophisticated was officially a disaster, and she hadn’t even made it inside the city limits.
His eyes followed the lines of her body, lingering on her pronounced curves. She smirked and jutted out her hip. Let him look at what he’d missed out on holding all these years.
Wyatt cleared his throat and lifted his gaze to her face. “Are you out of gas?”
She shot him her most withering look. She wasn’t a skinny teen anymore, but she still felt like the same foolish girl crushing on the most popular guy in school, desperate for him to notice her. “Whatever you think of me, at least give me credit for not being as stupid as I used to be.”
“I never thought you were stupid, Nicole.” So he definitely recognized her.
The intimate way he spoke her name made her stomach flutter with anticipation. Damn it, she was supposed to be long over him. “I already called the rental company. They should have a tow truck here in an hour.”
“When is your replacement car coming?”
“Sunday.” The fact that today was Friday and she’d be begging favors all weekend made her wince, but she covered it with a bright smile. She’d promised herself not to show any weakness in front of Wyatt.
“Can I give you a lift?”
Her only reasonable option was to accept. “That depends. Do I have to be handcuffed in the back, or can I ride shotgun?”
“That depends,” he shot back. “Would you like me to handcuff you?”
Unbelievable! He was flirting with her. She’d considered the possibility that he might and decided she would laugh him off to prove he no longer had any hold over her. Except she couldn’t laugh.
Nicole was no longer sure she’d conquered those silly schoolgirl feelings that had led her straight into his arms fifteen years ago. Those arms had dropped her as soon he’d taken what she’d pathetically, willingly offered. No matter what feelings she still harbored, she would not make the same mistake twice.
Wyatt had expected to see Nicole DeMonde at his twin sister’s wedding rehearsal tonight. He’d planned a carefully worded apology on behalf of his callous teenage self who had dumped Nicole immediately after sleeping with her fifteen years ago. He anticipated a scathing retort, in which he would honor her decision not to forgive him by keeping a respectful distance for the rest of the weekend.
So far, nothing was going according to plan. Nicole looked like a walking wet dream and talked to him like he’d never been part of her past. Instead of apologizing and groveling, he’d come on to her…while acting as an ambassador of Dentonville’s finest. He was going to have to turn himself in for inappropriate conduct.
“I’ll pass on the handcuffs,” she said. “I’m done with guys who want to use me. Don’t even think you can go there again.”
Wyatt closed his eyes. Well, she remembered the past and went straight for the scathing retort. “Actually, if you’re going to ride with me, you have to sit in the backseat. Standard protocol. No handcuffs. I’m off-duty and on my way home. We’ll switch over to my pickup, and you can ride shotgun after that.”
She handed him her suitcase and walked around her car, coming back with a purse and a laptop case. “Why’d you stop if you’re off-duty?”
“I’m the police chief. Even when I clock out, I’m never completely off.” He was responsible for the well-being of this town, and he took
that responsibility seriously. He opened the backdoor for her.
She stepped past him into the car. “So, I should be honored that the chief of police would deign to stop for me, let alone offer me a ride?”
“That’s not what I meant.” But he wasn’t surprised that she would see his actions in the worst possible light. “My ego’s not as big as it once was.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
A phone started ringing, and she dug it out of her purse as she pulled the door closed. Wyatt stowed her luggage, checked that the disabled car was secure, and then returned to his vehicle.
By the time he settled in the driver’s seat, Nicole was immersed in a conversation, her phone tucked between her shoulder and her ear. “Hellish meeting with a client, flight delay, defective rental, and now I’m riding in the back of a squad car. Murphy’s Law is biting my ass today.”
Wyatt caught his breath. He’d like the chance to bite her curvy ass.
She laughed at whatever the other person said. Her full, throaty chuckle shot to his groin. She caught his eye in the rearview mirror and winked. For one horrified second, he thought she’d read his mind.
Then she started talking into the phone again. “No, your brother’s giving me a ride. If I don’t show up in a half hour, you can assume he decided to lock me in jail instead.” She put her phone back in her purse and spoke to him through the mirror again. “Your sister is the sweetest person ever. Anyone else would have gone bridezilla on me for not arriving until three hours before the rehearsal and never setting eyes on my dress.”
“Where is your dress?” he asked.
“At your sister’s house.”
“Are you staying with Julianne tonight?”
“I have a motel reservation.”
The town’s only motel had a decent reputation, but he was called to disturbances there just often enough that he was glad her car had broken down and he had a reason to chauffeur her safely to and from her room. “Okay, well, first stop at my house, so we don’t have to keep talking through this metal screen at each other.”
Nicole would be protected and safe as long as she was with him. He would not bite her ass, touch her inappropriately, or flirt with her. Maybe when she left this time she’d think of him warmly, instead of as an asshole who’d thought sleeping with her and dumping her was a good revenge plan against her brother.
Wyatt held the door open, forcing Nicole to walk closer to him than she would have liked, as she entered his home.
“Make yourself comfortable.” He leaned her suitcase against the couch. “The bathroom’s down the hall on the left. Help yourself to the soda in the fridge if you’re thirsty.”
“I’m good.” She’d intended to keep her distance this weekend, and already she was alone with him inside his house. Not the most auspicious start.
“Okay, well.” He rocked back on his heels, apparently as ill at ease as she was. “I’m going to run upstairs and change.”
She waved him off, relieved for the break from his imposing presence. Only after his broad shoulders and tight butt disappeared up the stairs was she able to notice anything about his house.
The living room was nondescript beige and brown with well-cushioned furniture and a ginormous TV. The only sign of color or female influence was a piece of art that resembled a giant pink shoe on the wall above the couch. She stepped closer and realized it was a collage of shoes assembled to look like a single shoe.
A bland, predictable bachelor…with a shoe obsession. Sure, everyone had secrets, but she’d have guessed his ran along the lines of biting a woman’s ass during sex, not shoes. She willed away the erotic train of thought as his footsteps sounded on the stairs.
After gaining her composure, she turned to face him. He’d changed out of his starched uniform into a relaxed pair of jeans and a gray polo shirt that stretched across his sculpted chest. Even with his too-short military haircut, he looked good enough to eat.
Nicole searched for something to say that would defuse her attraction. “Tell me about your shoe fetish.”
“Shoe fetish?”
She gestured to the collage.
His cheeks turned as pink as the picture. “I was supporting Julianne’s silent auction of student artwork and feeling guilty for how I’d kept Zane away from her. I was bidding over my head,” he admitted. “But you should have seen how excited this girl was that I paid so much for her work. I tried to give it back to her, but she was afraid her dad would throw it out.”
Nicole wished she hadn’t asked. She didn’t want to know that, in addition to having a body that grew hotter with age, Wyatt Truman had turned into a nicer guy too. In fact, a really nice guy who helped out his sister, made amends with his future brother-in-law, and supported a teenage girl’s dreams. She couldn’t hate anyone who owned up to his mistakes and wore his big heart on his sleeve.
She needed a better plan to deal with him this weekend—a plan that didn’t remind her of her crushed teenage dreams. Avoiding him obviously wasn’t going to work, so she needed to control their conversations. Preventing herself from ending up vulnerable and hurt again was her number one priority.
Chapter 2
WYATT WALKED NICOLE TO THE DOOR of Julianne’s house and would have hung out there until the rehearsal, but his mom let Nicole in and then blocked the doorway. “Women only. Your father and Zane are checking on the tent for the reception. You can hang out with them.”
Wyatt left. He didn’t head to the tent though. He might be Zane’s best man, but in truth he and his future brother-in-law were just barely at the point of becoming civil to each other after fighting over Julianne’s honor fifteen years ago.
Not believing that Julianne and Zane had been genuinely in love, Wyatt had punched the other man out, getting both Zane and himself expelled from school at the end of their senior year.
But Wyatt hadn’t been content to stop there, not with Julianne moping around the house, heartbroken that Zane was gone. So when Zane’s pretty little sister Nicole started flirting and tempting him, she provided the perfect opportunity to get even.
Now Wyatt had to atone for his actions, not just to assuage his guilt, but to make sure nothing from the past bubbled up and ruined the wedding or strained the relationship between their two families.
At the wedding rehearsal that evening, he mentally recited his canned apology but never found himself alone with Nicole to engage in private conversation. During the dinner that followed, they were seated next to each other in the backroom of Gippi’s, the local pizza parlor, but they were still surrounded by the rest of the wedding party.
Wyatt’s dad held up his beer in a toast to Julianne and Zane. “As father-of-the-bride, I think I speak for everyone here when I say I’m so glad you two finally found your way back together. We knew all along that you were made for each other.”
Wyatt’s stomach churned. He hadn’t realized it, not until Zane returned a few months ago. He had kept his sister from the love of her life for fifteen years.
His mom wiped a tear from her eye and reached across the table to squeeze Nicole’s hand. “Between the school expulsions and broken hearts, I think you’re the only one of you four kids who came out of this mess unscathed.”
Except she hadn’t. Because Wyatt had stolen her innocence and broken her heart. He set his glass down with a thud and braced for Nicole to blast him in front of the happy bridal couple.
“You’re right, Mrs. Truman.” Nicole smiled sweetly at his mother and patted her hand.
Wyatt gaped at her while she clinked glasses and laughed with the other members of the wedding party. He didn’t want to be cut out of his family or create conflict on the eve of his twin’s wedding, but he certainly didn’t want the person who had every right to hate him to feel forced into covering for him.
He touched Nicole’s arm, trying not to notice her warmth and the electric tingle that shot up his fingertips. “Can I talk to you privately?”
She aimed her bl
ue eyes straight at him. Her gaze proved she knew exactly what he was thinking. “Everything is fine, Wyatt. I never told anyone, and I’m not going to start now. The only person who might have guessed was my mother.”
“I’m sorry about your mother.” He closed his eyes briefly, relieved she had no intention of ruining Julianne’s wedding, embarrassed that the possibility of her doing so even crossed his mind. Nicole had proven she could move beyond the past. For him to do so, he had to start with an apology, preferably where no one in their party would overhear. “Please, come with me.”
He guided her through the backdoor of the restaurant. Stepping to the side of the building, he turned to face her. He should have let go of her arm, but somehow speaking came easier while touching her. “I should have apologized first thing when I saw you this afternoon, but meeting over your car troubles caught me off-guard.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I’m over it.”
He shook his head. She might be willing to let him off easy, but he wasn’t ready to forgive himself. “You still deserve a formal apology. I am sorry, very sorry. I treated you horribly fifteen years ago. You have every right to cut off my balls in front of our families.”
Her gaze shot down to his crotch and back up. “You’re the first guy I’ve met who’s been willing to put his testicles on the chopping block for any reason. As I recall, you treated me fine and gave me exactly what I asked for. Of course, I was so smitten that I took it pretty hard when you decided you’d had enough of me.”
Great. He’d delivered his big apology, and now he felt worse than ever. It would have been easier if she’d vowed never to forgive him. She’d been “smitten”? No apology was strong enough. And yet knowing she’d felt more for him than pure lust warmed his lonely soul.
“The point is I wanted you,” Nicole argued, her shiny black hair swaying emphatically with her words. “I threw myself at you and gave as good as I got.”