by Eve Gaddy
She turned her head and loosened her hold on him, but she didn’t let go. Her eyes opened and stared at him in bewilderment. Her eye color varied from emerald green, to hazel, to a dark hunter green, depending on her mood and what she was wearing. Right now they were jade.
“Wyatt? Am I—What are you—” She dropped her arms and sat up so fast they bumped foreheads.
Bumped, hell, it was more like a head-on collision. “Damn, Mia, that hurt.”
“Tell me about it.” Rubbing her head, she looked around and saw her coffee. Grabbed it and took a big sip. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought you coffee.”
“Thanks. But why were you kissing me? I was asleep. Don’t you think that’s kind of creepy?”
Insulted, though she’d only said what he’d been thinking, he told her, “I kissed you on the cheek and was leaving when you grabbed me and laid one on me.” Not that he’d minded. No, not one bit.
She looked like she was going to argue but then she shrugged. “Whatever. What time is it?”
“A little after ten-thirty, why?”
“Ten-thirty? Dammit, Honey’s coming at eleven to pick me up.” She threw aside her covers and rushed into the bathroom, only to come out seconds later, grab the coffee and go back.
“I’ll see you downstairs,” he called through the door.
He heard the shower turn on. Honey coming over could only mean wedding stuff.
Thirty minutes later Mia came downstairs, wearing jeans and a rose colored sweater that should have looked odd with her hair color, but didn’t. “Oh, good, Honey’s late.”
“I don’t think that’s unusual,” Wyatt said.
“Why are you staring at me? Do I have toothpaste on my face?”
“I’m sure we can find some if you come over here.” He was sitting on a bar stool in front of the kitchen counter and Mia stood about three feet away.
“You wish.” She poured another mug of coffee.
“You’re right, I do.” Mia rolled her eyes. “I saw your painting. Did you do all that yesterday?”
“Yes. I think I got to bed about three. I’m not quite finished.”
“It’s great, Mia. The trees, the snow, the water, it makes you feel like you’re there. I can hear the water rushing in the stream. The hawk looks like he’s going to fly right off the paper. With the fish in his mouth.”
She stared at him suspiciously. “Thanks.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You’ve never been that complimentary or effusive about my art before. I’m wondering why now?”
“Sure I have. I’ve always thought you had a lot of talent.”
“You kept it to yourself, then.”
Had he? If so, he was a fool. “Come here,” he said. “I want to tell you something.”
“Can’t you tell me from here?”
“I could but I’d rather you were nearer.”
Still suspicious, she closed the distance between them.
He put his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, between his legs.
Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear, “I think you’re a beautiful, talented, insanely sexy artist.” He kissed her ear, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.
She sighed. Her body softened and she leaned toward him.
“And I have been a fool. I’ve been too dense to realize the woman I really wanted was my best friend who lived two doors away from me.”
He kissed her mouth and those luscious lips opened and drew him inside. He sank into the kiss, swept inside her mouth with his tongue. She kissed him back, her tongue exploring just as his was. He wanted her bare skin beneath his hands. Wanted to touch and taste every inch of her. Wanted to have her here, against the wall, on the bed, on the floor, anywhere he could have her.
“Damn, Wyatt, get a room,” Dylan said. “Oh, wait, you have one. Use it.”
Wyatt lifted one hand and shot his brother the bird, but he didn’t stop kissing Mia. Until he heard a feminine laugh.
“Crap,” he said, letting her go.
“We can go shopping another time,” Honey said, still struggling with laughter. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your plans.”
“You’re not,” Mia said moving away quickly. “Let me get my coat.”
“Sorry, Wyatt.”
Wyatt lifted his hands. “No problem. She told me you were coming, but I forgot.”
A short while later the women left. Wyatt sat where he was, trying to decide what to do.
“You’re really gone over her, aren’t you?” Dylan said.
Wyatt didn’t see the point in denying it. “Yeah. I sure am.”
“I hope I didn’t interfere with yours and Wyatt’s plans,” Honey said on their way into town.
“You didn’t. We didn’t have plans. Besides, I wanted to go shopping.”
“How long have you and Wyatt been together?”
“We haven’t—We’re not together. Not really.”
“Oh, good.”
Mia stared at her with her mouth open. Good? What the hell?
Honey slapped a hand against the steering wheel and looked pained. “Crap, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just that not long ago Sean and I went out with Wyatt and his date. From everything I heard, he dated a number of women but not one in particular. And then, out of the blue, Wyatt says he’s invited you to stay and you’ll be coming to the wedding and the Christmas Ball. That made me think you two were together, and had been together. Except, he hadn’t been acting like you were together. So I thought—I was worried—well, you can imagine what I thought.”
“You thought we were involved and he was cheating on me.”
“I didn’t want to think it. Wyatt’s a good guy and it didn’t seem like something he’d do. But he’s got those Gallagher killer looks, and he’s single and as far as anyone in Marietta knows, he isn’t dating anyone, and he’s a doctor, and half the women in town would jump his bones in a heartbeat if he acted even a tiny bit interested.”
Mia laughed. “All true, I’m sure. I appreciate your concern, but don’t worry about it. We’re just friends.” But she was getting closer and closer to changing that dynamic.
Honey shot her a skeptical glance. “That kiss didn’t look like just friends.”
That was because it hadn’t been. She sighed. It would be nice to talk to another woman. Even if she couldn’t talk about what was really bothering her. “We’ve been friends for a long time. Just friends. Now Wyatt wants more.”
“And you don’t?”
“There are things,” she said vaguely, looking out the side window. “Things he doesn’t know and I can’t tell him. Yet. It’s complicated.”
“Sounds like it. How long have you been in love with him?”
Mia turned her head to look at her. “Shit. Is it that obvious?”
“To me it is, but I’m in love with Sean. Does Wyatt know you’re in love with him?”
“No. And he doesn’t love me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Pretty certain,” she said glumly.
Honey parked the car and looked at Mia. “I know we don’t know each other well, and this is terribly nosy of me, but Wyatt’s going to be my brother-in-law and besides, he’s a good guy. From what I’ve seen—and not just that kiss today, which, by the way, made we want to fan myself—Anyway, from where I sit Wyatt looks and acts like he’s fallen for you.”
Mia snorted. “He wants to sleep with me. But that’s just sex.” She realized that didn’t sound good so she added hastily, “He doesn’t say it, of course, but that’s what he’s thinking. He’s a guy. You know how they are.”
Honey laughed. “I do. Oh, do I. Sean and I were supposed to be a two-week fling, no strings. Fun. Just sex.”
“What changed?”
“I broke my arm and wound up staying put in Marietta instead of following the circuit, running barrels. The more time we spent together, the closer we grew.”
“And
now you’re getting married.”
“Now we’re getting married,” she agreed. “We fell in love. Neither one of us expected it.” She laughed again at that. “Funny how things turn out. You never know.”
Maybe not, but Mia didn’t see things working out for her and Wyatt like they had for Honey and Sean. In fact, she thought the chances of them winding up together at all were between slim and none.
“Why do I have to be blindfolded and why am I wearing twelve layers of clothes?” Mia asked Wyatt. She had no idea where they were, other than the road they were currently driving on was bumpy as hell.
“It’s a surprise. Don’t be impatient, we’ll be there in a minute.”
“Where will we be?”
“It’s a surprise,” he said for the fifth time. “You’re making this much harder than it needs to be. Relax. You’ll like it, I promise.”
“If I don’t, you have to promise to take me home.”
She heard the exasperation in his voice when he said, “Damn, Mia, can’t you just go with it?”
He stopped the truck got out and slammed his door shut. A few seconds later he opened her door and helped her out.
“Can I take off the blindfold now?”
“No.” He more or less snarled the response.
“Wow, you sure are grumpy.” Mia held on to his arm as he pulled her along. “I’m getting claustrophobic. I need to see.”
“You do not have claustrophobia.”
“How do you know?”
“If you had it, I’d know it. We’ve been in some close quarters and you’ve never mentioned a thing.” A few moments later, he stopped and kissed her while removing her blindfold. “Open your eyes.”
She opened her eyes to a sleigh. Two big, shaggy horses were harnessed to the sleigh and Lane Scott was sitting in the driver’s seat. “One romantic sleigh ride coming up,” Lane said, and winked at her.
To Wyatt she said, “You arranged this for me?”
Wyatt was frowning at her. “No. I arranged it for us. Get in. Unless you want me to take you home.”
“Of course I don’t.” She felt bad that she’d given him such a hard time. But how was she to know he’d arranged something so impossibly romantic?
Wyatt helped her in to the rear seat of the sleigh and climbed in after her. After tucking a couple of warm, thick, fuzzy blankets around them, he said to Lane, “Ready.”
A light snow fell and the full moon shone over an idyllic scene. Quiet, the only sounds those of the horses breathing, the jingle of bells on their harnesses and the soft clop of their hooves on the snow.
“It’s beautiful, Wyatt.” Knowing he was still a bit put out with her, she slipped her hand into his. “Thank you. I’m sorry I was difficult.”
He looked down at her with a rueful smile. “Remind me never to try to surprise you again.”
She put her arm around his neck and pulled his head down, kissing his lips. They were cold and soft, and she wanted to lose herself in him. But she couldn’t.
So she let him go and repeated, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” After that, he relaxed, swung an arm around her and pulled her close against his side.
Lane drove them all around the farm, along regular paths and through the forest as well, never saying a word. “Why won’t Lane talk?”
“He’s pretending to be invisible. Don’t worry, it was his idea, not mine.”
“Do the Scotts have sleigh rides regularly?”
“Not like this. They’ll take families or groups of people. Normally they’ll do a couple during the daytime during the week, and on weekends they add one at night on Friday and Saturday.”
“But you asked Lane to do this for us.”
He nodded. “Which he agreed to do for a future favor of his choosing.”
She laughed. “Wasn’t that a little reckless?”
“It’s worth it.” He shot her a wry glance. “Although I wasn’t sure of that at first.”
“Because I was such a pain in the ass.”
“You said it, not me.” He grinned. “But yeah, you were.”
She punched him lightly on the arm. “You’re not supposed to agree with me.”
“Any day with Mia being a pain in the ass is better than a day without her.”
“Ha, ha. You’re hilarious.”
“I try,” he said modestly.
Mia wondered what all this romancing was about. Because she couldn’t deny that was what Wyatt was doing. Romancing. Seducing. Both. What did it mean, beyond that he wanted to have sex with her again? That was abundantly clear. She remembered what he’d said just a few days before. “I’ve been too dense to realize the woman I wanted was my best friend who lived two doors away from me.”
Was she honestly the woman he wanted? And if she was, how would he react when she told him what had happened months ago? Would he still want her then? Or would he regret ever being with her?
What would be worse? To go ahead and take what she wanted, even knowing what she risked once the truth came out. Or not do anything, and the truth would still come out, leaving her with even less than she had before.
Chapter Eleven
Wyatt hated to admit it, but he couldn’t figure Mia out. He knew she was attracted to him. There had been sparks between them for a long time, even if they hadn’t ever acted on them. And since she’d come to Marietta the attraction between them had only grown stronger. But something was holding her back and he wasn’t sure whether it had anything to do with their night together or was about something else entirely.
He knew she’d enjoyed that night. Her response had been pure wildfire. No way could she have faked that. Nor was there any reason why she would have. So what exactly was the problem? Did she think he was a player? Did she think he only wanted to bed her again and then be done with it? If that was what she thought she couldn’t be more wrong.
He might not know exactly what he wanted but he knew he wanted Mia and not just for a quick roll in the sheets.
They didn’t talk much on the way home, but it was a contented silence. He held Mia’s hand, minus gloves, and thought about how to make her admit that they wanted the same thing. Each other.
He let them into the mudroom where they hung up their coats and took off their boots. He noticed Mia was having trouble standing up to remove her boots, so he made her sit on the bench, then unzipped and took off each one.
“Do you want a drink? Or something to eat?”
“No, that hot chocolate hit the spot.”
They walked upstairs and stopped outside her door. She didn’t say anything, but opened the door and pulled him inside, shutting the door and turning around with her back to it to face him. He put his hands on either side of her face, looked into her eyes, deep, forest green and full of emotion. He kissed her, taking his time, drawing her out until her lips softened, parted and invited him inside.
“Do you know what you do to me? I want you, Mia, and I think you want me.”
“I’m not sure you do. I think you’re still looking for something to take away the pain.”
“How can I convince you that she—what happened with her—is irrelevant to me?”
“You were hurting. You wanted comfort. Who’s more comforting than a woman you consider more a friend than a lover?”
He dropped his hands and stepped back. “That’s bullshit. What’s more, you know it.”
“No, it’s not, Wyatt. What we had that night was rebound sex.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Maybe it had started that way, but that wasn’t the way it ended. “Why do you think it was? This isn’t the first time you’ve said it.”
“Gee, let me think. You were drunk—”
“Drinking, not drunk.”
She waved that away. “You’d just been in a fight over a woman who lied to you from the get-go. You found out a baby you’d already started to love wasn’t yours. Yeah, I’d say it was classic rebound sex.”
“No, it wasn’t. Goddamn it,
how can I make you believe me? What do I have to do?”
“Then it was comfort sex. Either way, you didn’t want me so much as you wanted to forget.”
“Why did I come to you then? If all I wanted was a warm body, I could have found that in a lot of places. But I came to you.” He pulled her close to him. “I knew it was you, Mia. Every moment of that night, I knew I was with you. I wanted to be with you.” She gazed at him and he could see the doubt in her eyes. “I wanted you then. I want you now, Mia.” And then he kissed her.
And though she responded, he felt her resistance.
“If you’re so sure it was rebound sex for me, what was it for you, Mia? Was it pity sex?”
“God, no, how can you ask me that? I would never—that wasn’t what it was.”
He moved closer, backing her against the wall. “Good. Because that’s one thing I couldn’t take.”
“You know that wasn’t it.”
“What was it then?” He put his hand in her hair, pushed it aside and kissed her neck. “Tell me, Mia.”
“I... I wanted you.”
“And now? What do you want now?” He boosted her up and she wrapped her legs around him, put her arms around his neck. His cock was getting harder every moment, her sex rubbing against him, making him ache, making him feel like he’d die if he didn’t get inside her.
“I want you, Wyatt.”
He kissed her hard and deep. Then carried her out of her room to his, shedding clothes along the way. Once inside, he let her slide down his body slowly, groaning at the pleasure-pain. He pulled her sweater off over her head. She unbuttoned his flannel shirt and pushed it down his arms, then tugged on his T-shirt. He yanked it off, then watched as she took off her turtleneck. And lay bare yet another layer.
“How many layers?” he asked hoarsely.
“You told me to dress warmly,” she said with a mischievous smile. “Why don’t you find out?”
He found bare skin beneath the third layer. Her bra was peach, a little darker than her skin, low-cut with her creamy breasts rising out of it. He unhooked it and she let it fall. He remembered her breasts, smooth, beautiful, just the right size for his hands, his mouth. With dusky rose nipples pebbling and begging for him to taste.