Wanted by Him (Wanted Series #1)

by Kelly, Hazel

  Then again, he didn't seem to be joking. It was more like he was trying to test the waters. Or get a rise out of me. And he had.

  What’s more, he'd planted a seed, and I couldn't shake the idea of being with him.

  Maybe that was harmless. It was just a fantasy that would never materialize, but that didn't change the fact that he seemed like a guy who knew his way around.

  Of course, I didn't enjoy being with men in that way. It wasn't that I didn't like sex because I did… or at least I knew I liked the warm feeling it gave me when I had it with myself.

  But when it came to having it with an actual partner, experience told me that most men were selfish and considered women to be a means to an end and nothing more.

  And I'd had more short term relationships than anyone I knew so it would’ve been foolish to have anything but low expectations.

  Sure, Wyatt was a little bolder than the suits I was used to- and definitely a little sexier- but he clearly knew it.

  So I had to keep my guard up. No matter what.

  Otherwise, he would hurt me, and even if he only hurt me by reaffirming what I already believed about men, it was more than my heart could take right now.

  When I heard a knock at the door, I exhaled through my lips before smiling to make sure there was no lipstick on my teeth. Then I pressed my fingertips against my scalp and wiggled them until my hair lifted between them.

  When I opened the door to Wyatt, I was impressed by how handsome he looked… and surprised by how disappointed I was that he’d put on a shirt.

  "You clean up nice," I said.

  His eyes looked me over from head to toe. "I think I have the wrong house."

  I rolled my eyes. "What?"

  "I'm looking for a serious redhead who should be slightly annoyed to see me," he said. "Not a supermodel with high heels in her hand."

  I leaned over just enough to set my shoes on the floor. "Trust me," I said. "I can keep up."

  "Don't worry about it," he said. "If you're going to go around looking like that then I'm happy for you to set the pace."

  "Good," I said. Pairing that dress with flats would have been a sin even a nun would've scoffed at. Besides, heels made me feel sexy and confident. They were as essential as good underwear.

  He raised his eyebrows. "You ready then?"

  It was painful to tear my eyes away from where his shirt grazed his pecs, but somehow I managed to grab my purse off one of the hooks behind the door. "Yeah. I’m all set."

  As he turned to walk down the steps, my eyes dropped to where his jeans were hugging his ass, and I found myself wondering if he had a bad side.

  And when I realized I was following him over to his pickup truck, I felt the tightness in my chest dissipate. I don't know why. I guess it reassured me that he was probably more down to Earth than most of the men I went out with, and that made me feel less anxious.

  In that moment, my meeting objective was decided: I needed to get out of the cabin. Therefore, the night was already a success.

  "Thanks," I said when he opened the door for me.

  "I know a lady such as yourself is probably used to a more extravagant ride, but I'll-"

  "It's fine," I said, climbing in carefully. "I like it."

  He nodded and checked out my legs. Or maybe he was just making sure I was all the way in. Then he closed the door and walked around the front of the truck.

  I watched him turn the key. "So where are we going?"

  "Just a local bar. Nothing fancy. They should have some good live music tonight, though."

  "Nice." I leaned back and waited for the car to move.

  But it didn't.

  "Everything okay?" I asked, rolling my head towards him.

  "Yeah," he said. "Just waiting for you to put on your seat belt."

  "Oh. Right." I reached back for the buckle and pulled it across my body. "Sorry." I clicked it into place. "I didn't realize you were a safety first kind of guy."

  He didn't answer me. Instead, he put his arm behind my seat and backed out of the driveway.

  "So you go to this place a lot?"

  He shrugged. "I used to. So there should be a few friendly faces."

  I wanted to joke that it was a bit soon to be introducing me to his friends, but it seemed too close to flirtation and my blood alcohol level was a big fat zero.

  "I figured you might be more comfortable in a place where people know me," he said.

  I raised my eyebrows in his direction, noticing how his large hands gripped the steering wheel.

  "Might help convince you I'm not a serial killer."

  "I'm already convinced of that."

  "Really?" He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "How can you be so sure?"

  I considered saying it was because he was too handsome, but then I remembered how many crazy murderers were deceptively charming and promised myself I would stop thinking about it. "The seat belt thing for one."

  "And what if that was just part of the seduction?" he said. "A cover. To put you at ease."

  "Then it's working," I said. Like a charm.

  Chapter 17: Wyatt

  The Billy Goat Inn was quiet as usual, but I would always be fond of it since it was one of the places I got my start. But I wasn't going to bring that up just yet. The last thing I wanted was for Addison to start looking up the band's early music videos.

  The previous manager- now deceased- used to let me play short sets, just a few songs at a time. He'd pay me in beer, and I'd get a little experience while his paid act took a break.

  So I felt right at home there. It helped that the clientele had changed as little as the interior and the drinks menu.

  "What'll you have?" I asked, leaning against the bar.

  "Umm." Her eyes scanned the chalkboard over the top shelf.

  I watched as she squinted and extended her neck, wondering what it would be like to bite her thin flesh there and drape my hands around her waist.

  She was too gorgeous, and something about the fact that she seemed hell bent on not seeming vulnerable made me feel drawn to her, protective even. And yet with the way she was looking tonight, I was pretty sure I was the one she needed to be protected from.

  "I'll have an MGD."

  "Seriously?"

  She turned towards me. "Who jokes about their drink order at a bar?"

  "Fair enough," I said. "You just surprised me."

  She shrugged. "I know it’s an acquired taste, but it's the first thing I ever drank."

  I raised my eyebrows. "So you've had time to acquire it?"

  "I guess so."

  "Jonesy!" Stacy said from the opposite end of the bar, throwing a look at Addison that wasn't nearly as welcoming as the one I got.

  "Hi Stacy," I said. "How've you been?"

  “Oh you know me,” she said, drying a glass in her hand. "Same old, same old.”

  "You okay?” I asked, noticing a bandage on her arm.

  "Yeah," she said, turning her shoulder. "Just another tattoo. I'd show you, but it's still pretty raw."

  "What did you get?" Addison asked.

  Stacy looked down her nose piercing at Addison who suddenly looked like the poster girl for clean living. "It's a flower, but if you look at it from a certain angle it looks like a tiger face."

  Addison nodded. “Cool.”

  "What can I get you guys?" Stacy asked, flinging her dishtowel over her shoulder.

  "Two MGD's," I said.

  She raised her pierced eyebrows. "It's cheaper if you get the bucket."

  I glanced at Addison.

  She shrugged.

  "Can't argue with that," I said, reaching in my back pocket.

  Stacy went to fill our order.

  I pulled out my wallet.

  "Can I give you some money?" Addison asked, pulling her purse in front of her. "I didn't mean to suggest you buy all the rounds at once."

  "Not at all."

  "Are you sure? Because I don't want you to get the wrong idea-"
<
br />   I raised my eyebrows. "And what would that be?"

  "That I'm the kind of girl you can just feed a bunch of beers to and then..."

  "And then what?" I asked, smiling.

  "Never mind."

  "Trust me," I said. "I don't have any wrong ideas that you haven't already had."

  She swallowed.

  "Besides," I said, pulling a twenty out of my wallet. "You can always buy the next bucket."

  She rolled her eyes and her thick upper lashes flitted against her face.

  Stacy set a bucket of Millers down a moment later, and I grabbed it, leading the way towards a table in the corner without waiting for the change.

  As soon as we sat down, two of the guys on the small stage nodded in my direction, and I raised my hand in a wave.

  "You know everyone here, huh?"

  "Just a few people." I opened a beer and set it down in front of her before pulling one out for me. "But I didn't come here to talk to them."

  "Why did you come?" she asked, setting her elbows on the table.

  "To get to know you."

  "There's not much to know."

  "I don't believe that for a second."

  She glanced down at the table and slid one hand around the base of her beer bottle, causing my pants to tighten.

  "So who should I thank for sending you to that cabin?" I asked. "Because I get the sense it wasn't your idea."

  "It wasn't."

  "So what happened? Evil stepmother or something?"

  "Evil boss more like," she said. "Didn’t give me a choice."

  "Weird thing for a boss to do."

  "Tell me about it," she said. "Anyway, it's a long story, and I don't really feel like talking about work."

  "Me neither," I said. "I guess we could talk about earlier when you basically licked my abs with your eyes."

  Her eyes went wide as her lips fell apart. "Excuse me. I did not lick your abs with my eyes."

  I laughed. "Whatever you say."

  She shook her head. "Honestly, it's like you can't go two seconds without-"

  "You can touch them," I said. "They're not off limits."

  She leaned back in her chair.

  "Or lick them for real if you want."

  "I honestly can't believe you."

  "I don't think that's it."

  "No?" she asked, folding her arms.

  I took a sip of beer. "I think it's all the other guys you can't believe."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Think about it," I said. "Who can you trust more than a guy that speaks his mind?"

  She took a sip of her beer and looked towards the stage.

  "All I'm saying is if you lick mine, I'll lick yours."

  She turned back towards me. "Now you're just being crass."

  "Tell me if you want me to stop."

  "Stop," she said. "In fact, I bet you can't go the rest of the night without being crude."

  I laughed. "I would never take that bet. Unless, of course, you say you'll sleep with me if I pull it off."

  "Well, I would never take that bet."

  "Doesn't matter," I said, leaning back.

  "No it doesn-"

  "You'll sleep with me anyway."

  "Oh please can I?" she said. "I'm dying to be degraded by a guy like you."

  "First of all, you've never been with a guy like me," I said, leaning towards her. "And second of all, the last thing I want to do is degrade you."

  "Yeah right."

  "Seriously. I want the opposite."

  "And what's that?"

  "To celebrate you," I said. "To celebrate every goddamn inch of you until-"

  "Weird."

  "What?"

  "I thought you wanted to get to know me."

  "I do," I said. "Intimately."

  "For your information, most people agree that there’s a respectable order of events in situations like this."

  "I'm not bothered by the order of events."

  "You've made that quite clear."

  "Good," I said. "Cause I'd hate to think you'd choose being polite over getting what you want."

  “You don’t have to worry about that."

  I smiled and drank some beer. She was visibly rattled, but still desperately clinging to the charade of self-control she was putting on. Frankly, she couldn't have made seducing her any more fun for me if she'd tried.

  "Tell me, Wyatt," she asked, drumming her fingertips along her beer bottle. "Do women usually go for your aggressive approach?"

  “To be honest, they usually instigate it."

  She laughed. "Is that what Stacy did?"

  "Stacy?"

  "Oh come on," she said. "That look she gave me? You must've slept together."

  I narrowed my eyes at her.

  "Well?” she asked, tilting her head.

  "Why do you ask?" I rested an elbow on the table and angled my body towards her. "You jealous?"

  She shook her head. "You've got a lot of nerve."

  "So do you," I said. "Thinking you can go around asking personal questions without having to answer any yourself."

  "You haven't answered the question."

  "Neither have you."

  "The answer is no,” she said, crossing her legs. “I'm not jealous. As if that wasn't clear."

  "It wasn't," I said. "And for the record, I've never slept with Stacy."

  Her eyes flashed ever so slightly.

  "Which is one of the only two things you guys have in common."

  "Oh?" She raised her eyebrows. "And what's the other thing?"

  I smiled. "You wish that wasn't the case."

  Chapter 18: Addison

  His persistence was so unrelenting I was starting to admire it as much as I abhorred it.

  Not that I would ever tell him that. Encouragement was the last thing he needed.

  And there was something else I had no intention of telling him either.

  My panties were wet. And every time he looked away from the stage in my direction, I got that twisting feeling in my guts. Of course, the whole thing was ridiculous.

  Who lusts after a horny handyman in a townie bar that looks like it hasn't had a good dusting in twenty years?

  Not me.

  If I was going to get swept off my feet, it was going to be in a softly lit restaurant that served fancy cocktails with the kind of guy that wore a tie to work and a suit that cost almost as much as his watch, the kind of man that would know what a catch I was because we ran in the same circles.

  The last thing I ever expected was that I would be fantasizing about a workman I met in the woods over a bucket of MGDs.

  And yet it was happening, even after he'd been so arrogant all night.

  My inner turmoil was interrupted suddenly when Wyatt pushed his chair back and walked towards the stage- and by stage I mean the raised platform that was barely big enough for a few chairs and instruments.

  As he made his way up, the guy who'd been singing all night caught my eye, which is when I realized my mouth was hanging open and promptly closed it. Then again, maybe he couldn't see me because of the lighting. I couldn’t tell.

  All I know is that when he leaned into the mic and said, "Ladies & gentlemen, please welcome my good friend, Jonesy, to the stage," I stopped breathing.

  A few people clapped and a loud whistle whizzed past me. When I turned around and saw it came from Stacy, I started clapping, too, but I was only doing it to fit in.

  I had no idea what was going on.

  When I turned back towards the stage, I saw one of the guys hand Wyatt a guitar. Then he sat in a folding chair facing the audience.

  He looked up for a moment, squinting into the light before licking his lips and swallowing. I couldn't help but lick my lips, too, my mouth suddenly dry from fear, confusion, and what felt like a potentially fatal level of anxiety.