Wyatt's Guilt

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Wyatt's Guilt Page 4

by Sara Daniel


  Angry that he meant so little to her, he called her cell phone to demand an explanation. She didn’t answer, and he had no idea where she would have gone. As much as she’d told him about her work and her life, she hadn’t said where she was going after this weekend. She seemed as likely to head to one city as any other. How could he narrow down his search to start looking?

  The one person who would know where to find her was her brother. Zane would probably want to beat the crap out of him. And Wyatt would let him. He had no intention of fighting back. He started to dial before he realized he couldn’t interrupt Zane and Julianne’s honeymoon for something that no one else would consider an emergency.

  Instead, he went to the police station and immersed himself in his job. He’d enforce laws and carry out justice. That was exactly what Nicole had done—an eye for an eye style justice. He didn’t know how she’d survived his actions, as a teenager. Now as a grown man he was a lovesick mess.

  He’d gotten what he deserved, which was exactly what he’d hoped for at the beginning of the weekend.

  Over the next few days, mundane tasks brought him to a standstill. He couldn’t fix a pot of coffee without thinking of her wearing only his jacket and her panties in his kitchen. He couldn’t sit on the couch to watch TV without replaying everything she’d confided in him about her career and her life. And he certainly couldn’t lie on his bed and expect to sleep at all.

  On Thursday, he kicked the TV remote under the couch in frustration. When he bent to retrieve it, he pulled out Nicole’s purple panties instead. The memories he’d been trying to block assailed him. She might have claimed this was only a fling, but she wouldn’t have wasted her time talking about her dreams if she hadn’t trusted him with them.

  Even after he’d hurt her so badly, she trusted him. He hadn’t trusted her with his dreams of forever or his heart, but he still could.

  Hope swelled in his chest for the first time since he’d stood in that empty motel parking lot. Maybe she hadn’t been doling out justice and revenge. She said she’d forgiven him and assured him she’d moved on before taking him to bed. He just hoped she hadn’t already moved on again.

  As soon as Zane and Julianne returned from their honeymoon, Wyatt drove to their house. “I need to know where I can find Nicole,” he said.

  Zane shrugged lazily. “Ask her yourself.”

  “She’s not answering me.” His chest ached at the reminder that she’d never replied to his frantic call, not even to assure him she was safe.

  Zane’s gaze narrowed to a razor-sharp blade. “Why? What’d you do?”

  Fell in love with her. Not that Zane would believe him. He wasn’t sure he could convince Nicole of the truth. “Go ahead. Punch me in the face. We both know I deserve it. Just tell me where to find her.”

  Zane’s fist clenched, but otherwise he didn’t move. “What are you going to do if I tell you?”

  “Point my truck in that direction if it’s within a day’s drive. Buy a ticket and fly out to see her if it’s not.” Wyatt hoped he didn’t have to fly. He’d gone on a plane exactly once in his life and hated every minute of it.

  “And when you find her?” Zane pressed.

  He wanted to save the words for Nicole, but first he needed the chance to say them. “Try to explain how much I love her and how she completes my life, and then beg her to marry me.”

  Zane relaxed his clenched fists, but his posture was still tense. “You do see the irony here, don’t you? You beat the crap out of me fifteen years ago when my only crime was loving your sister more than life itself.”

  “We’ve come full circle,” Wyatt agreed, his stomach queasy. The guilt he could handle, but his need for Nicole erased his last ounce of pride. He held out his hands at his sides. “Give me your best right hook. I believe that’s the punch I started with.”

  Zane shook his head. “I’m not going to punch you…now. You might get a better response from my sister if your ugly face is intact. She’s in San Diego.”

  “Thank you.” Wyatt’s knees felt weak with gratitude. But hell, of course, she had to be as far away as possible to force him on an airplane.

  “Wyatt,” Zane called, as he started to turn away, “if you come back without her, I will mess up your face.”

  He didn’t reply. If Nicole pummeled his heart to a bloody pulp, he wouldn’t care about the condition of his face.

  The breeze through the revolving door ruffled Nicole’s hair as she left the client’s office, and she automatically smoothed it back into place. Her two-inch heels clicked on the sidewalk illuminated by the streetlights as she strode back to the hotel. Despite having stayed long past what any normal person would consider regular business hours, she preferred work. Lonely hotel rooms only left her second-guessing the choices she’d made nearly two weeks ago.

  She tugged on her beige blazer and adjusted the shoulder strap of her laptop case as she turned the corner, bringing the hotel into sight. Weddings made single people do stupid things. Unfortunately, recognizing she’d joined the ranks of the stupid didn’t make her feel better.

  Ahead, a man rose from the bench in front of the hotel’s valet parking, his gaze trained on her. His stance awakened an ache of longing. He took a step, and she recognized the small town cop swagger.

  She stopped. Wyatt had called her exactly once after she left, a courtesy post-sex check-in, proof that their night together had only been a fling. Unable to pretend her plan to work him out of her system had succeeded, she hadn’t returned the call.

  “Somehow, I don’t think this is a coincidence.” She was grateful her voice didn’t betray how shaky she felt.

  “You’d think right,” he said, stepping aside as the valet ushered a group of businessmen into a waiting car.

  “Do you have some nasty communicable disease you didn’t think to warn me about ahead of time?” Voicing the worst-case scenario was easier than letting him see how much she hoped he was here because he cared about her.

  “No.” Wyatt whispered a curse and ran a hand through his too-short hair. “Is that really your first thought when you see me?”

  Her first thought had been to launch herself in his arms and never let go. Working him out of her system was clearly her most colossal failure yet. “Are Zane and Julianne okay?”

  “Everyone’s fine. I’m here to investigate a crime.”

  He was here in official police capacity. Her heart plummeted. For one moment she had allowed herself to believe that he’d flown across the country to prove to her how much he loved her and couldn’t live without her, but she’d projected her own broken-hearted needs on him. “Couldn’t the San Diego police investigate for you?”

  “This is personal. See, there’s this guy who was a total jerk as a kid and was responsible for abandonment, neglect, and insensitivity. I thought he’d turned himself around. But now he’s guilty of wanting more than a one night stand, and he neglected to tell this to the woman he’s in love with.”

  Nicole gasped, and her laptop case slid down her arm. She didn’t have the strength to pull it back in place, not with Wyatt looking straight at her and speaking the L word. “My standing policy is to forgive the guilty party and walk away, but I don’t think that’s going to work in this case,” she said.

  “I agree.” Wyatt took another step toward her. “Nothing short of a life sentence will do.”

  She bit her lip and hugged her bag to her chest, scared to believe what she thought he meant. “Sounds like quite a commitment you’re making.”

  He gave a small shrug, but the movement came off as tense, contrasting with his glib lines. “I happen to be a big believer in justice. Hazard of the profession.”

  She blinked sudden tears that threatened to blur his beautiful image. She couldn’t play this game anymore. She didn’t want a fling. Wyatt Truman wasn’t a man she could work out of her system. “You’d have to hold me again and make love to me. I’m scared to death of being vulnerable with you, of getting hurt again.�


  He set her bag aside and encircled her with his arms before she could say anything else. Earnestly, he kissed the tears from her cheeks. “I’ve got your back, I promise. We’ll take it as slowly as you want. I love you. I’m going to do everything in my power to make you happy for the rest of your life.”

  Nicole gulped and wiped her eyes. They had both grown and changed from the people they once were. She’d helped him overcome his guilt, and he was proving every second that she could be vulnerable and trust him with her heart.

  She studied Wyatt’s intense gray-blue eyes, sliding a finger down his cheek. She’d avoided saying these words her whole life, but she didn’t need to shy away from them any longer. “I love you.”

  He relaxed and covered her mouth in an eager, passionate kiss. “Please tell me your room is close.”

  It could have been on the moon and she wouldn’t have cared, as long as she was with him. “Fifteenth floor.”

  “Not nearly close enough.” He crushed his lips to hers again.

  The valet cleared his throat behind them. “A bit too much affection for in public, wouldn’t you say?”

  Wyatt snickered like a teen caught in the act.

  Nicole lifted her head and grinned. “Guilty as charged.”

  About the Author

  Sara Daniel writes what she loves to read—irresistible romance and captivating small-town drama. She writes to entertain and to give people hope and a belief that everything can and will turn out happily ever after. On the personal side, Sara is a frazzled chauffeur, chef, personal assistant and slave to her children. She’s crazy about country music and the drama of NASCAR. She has her own happily-ever-after romance with her hero husband. In addition to Wyatt’s Guilt, she is also the author of Zane’s Art, Mr. Forever, The Wiccan Haus: A Man Worth Fighting For, The Wiccan Haus: Psychic Lies, More Than a Fantasy, and Construction Beauty Queen. You can learn more on her website:

  www.SaraDaniel.com

 

 

 


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