by Leslie Kelly
Neither of them said a word. They didn't need to. Nicole knew without ever asking that Wyatt wanted her as much as he ever had. His eyes blazed, his lips were parted and wet. She knew he was remembering every stroke, touch, and thrust, just as she was.
But it wasn't enough. She wanted more than just his body, though she wanted that very badly at the moment. She wanted the man. She wanted to make a life with him, the life they'd been denied. She wanted his love. And right now, she’d do just about anything to get it.
"Anything to eat?" Justin asked as he stepped up to stand beside his father on deck.
Nicole shook off the sensual feelings, blinking her eyes, shaking her head. Her brain slowly emerged from its fuzzy state. Justin watched her, a look of expectation on his face.
"You bet," Wyatt replied, heading for the cooler and retrieving sandwiches and fruit.
They ate dinner on the deck as the sun dropped off the edge of the water and stars began popping up in the sky. What Nicole and Wyatt lacked in conversation, Justin more than made up for. He told jokes, did voices, had the two of them roaring with laughter as he impersonated his last gym teacher.
“This is great,” Justin finally said as the three of them sat in silence and finished the last of their meal.
More than great. It verged on wonderful.
Wyatt lit a few deck lights and they curled up on lounge chairs to listen to the water lapping against the side of the boat. Nicole didn't think she'd ever experienced a more tranquil moment. Wyatt wasn't smiling at her, but he wasn’t frowning, either. He seemed content to give Justin the pleasure of an evening with his parents...both his parents.
The interlude, however, seemed too perfect to last. It was Justin, himself, who shattered it. "Mom, I think you ought to know, I've told Wyatt I'd spend the rest of the summer with him. I mean, that is if you decide to go back to Baltimore, I want to stay in Florida."
Nicole frowned. She hadn't thought of going back to Maryland any time soon, but the thought of leaving at all, leaving Justin behind, was terrifying. "Justin, I don't know..."
"You don't know what?" Wyatt bit out. "You don't know if you and your mother can spare a few weeks out of your hectic lives to let Justin spend time with other members of his family?"
His anger was palpable, but Nicole didn't flinch. "Wyatt, don't put words in my mouth. What I was going to say, is that I don't know when I'll be leaving."
Justin seemed to realize he'd sparked a battle, and he quickly interjected, "Hey, we don't need to decide tonight. You know, I'm pretty tired. I think I'll go downstairs and go to bed. Mom, you don't have to come with me. I'll take the bunk on the right, okay?"
He didn't wait for her reply, but got up and scooted away quickly. Nicole watched him go, wondering if Wyatt would continue arguing with her once Justin was out of earshot. This was the first moment they'd had alone in nearly a week, since that horrible afternoon when he'd looked in her eyes and she'd seen his utter lack of faith in her.
Wyatt, however, didn't even glance in her direction. He stood, walked across the deck and busied himself tying down some ropes for the night. Nicole watched the way the moonlight shone on his hair, and on his white shirt, seeing the tense set of his body and the frown on his lips.
He wasn’t going to make this easy. But nothing worth having was ever easy.
"I wasn't going to say he couldn't stay," Nicole said when he finally paused in his work.
Wyatt stared at her steadily, easily catching her eyes in the bright moonlight. "I wasn't asking for your permission."
She heard the challenge, but let it go. Nicole wrapped a beach towel around her shoulders, suddenly chilled by the night breeze. "Wyatt, we need to talk about this situation."
"Any more talking can be done through our attorneys." He ignored her gasp. "Don't panic, Nicole. Unlike you, I'm not so selfish that I'd try to take Justin away from one of his parents. I won't fight you for custody as long as you take Justin and move out of your mother’s house. And I want a permanent visitation schedule. I am not talking about just the summers. I want to see him during the school year, for holidays, whenever possible."
"Wyatt, I never would have kept him from you..."
"Save it, all right?" He folded a tarp with precision and as he studiously ignored her. "I just don't want to hear it."
"But I need to explain..."
"Just go to bed, Nicole. We have nothing further to talk about."
Wyatt paused, wondering if she'd argue. He didn’t want to—he was still too tense, too angry about the reminder that he needed permission to spend time with his own child. Unfortunately, there was nowhere he could go to walk out of their confrontation if she chose to continue it. He read the emotions as they quickly crossed her face, saw anger, then desperation. Finally, resigned, she slipped to the steps to go to the cabin below deck.
He almost went after her. It was the slight hint of desperation, the suggestion of regret he felt sure he'd seen. In that instant, he'd recognized the woman he loved. He'd allowed himself to hope, for a faint moment, that she loved him too.
But she didn't. He knew she didn't. He'd acknowledged that fact one week ago when she'd revealed more with her silence than she ever could have with words.
Wyatt pulled his hammock out of a storage trunk, strung it up on deck and climbed into it. He lay awake for a very long time, staring up at the stars, wondering how his life had ever reached this point.
Nicole couldn't sleep. The bunks were comfortable, if a little narrow, and the boat remained still on the quiet water. Justin's deep, steady breaths soothed and comforted her from across the small cabin. But Nicole had lain awake for two hours, thinking about Wyatt, just above them, and alone.
"He's been alone for too long," she murmured in the darkness. She and Justin had been together for years, while Wyatt had been by himself. True, he was building a strong relationship with his son. But it didn't erase the fact that, at heart, Wyatt had always been alone.
She wanted him. She needed him. And, she decided, she was not going to let him go without making at least one more effort to make him admit he needed her, too.
Quietly, she slipped from the bed. Moonlight shone through the cabin window, and Nicole quickly glanced down at her shorty pajamas. She considered moving into the tiny bathroom to pull on some clothes, but decided against it. She might wake Justin, she told herself. In truth, she knew that if she delayed, if she took the time to get dressed, she might lose her courage and not walk up those stairs.
Nicole tiptoed out of the room, shutting the cabin door behind her. She moved up the stairs to the deck, and looked toward the hammock. Wyatt lay sprawled in it, still wearing his clothes, uncovered by anything other than the night air. Moving next to him, she paused to stare at his peaceful face.
"Wyatt, are you awake?" He didn't react at all. His breaths remained even and steady. Nicole reached out and brushed the back of her hand along his jawline, liking the scratchy feel of his skin. Still he didn't move. "You should be awake," she muttered. "How can you sleep when I'm so miserable?"
He shifted a little. Nicole sucked in a breath, wondering if he was about to catch her hovering over him, but he never opened his eyes. A cool breeze blew against her bare legs, and Nicole shivered. Wyatt hadn't bothered with a blanket when he went to bed. Glancing around, she spotted a folded beach towel. She shook it out and gently placed it over his body.
"I should leave you uncovered. Maybe if it gets cold enough your jaw will freeze and you'll shut up and listen for a change."
Shaking her head, she prepared to turn and leave the deck. Their conversation would have to wait. Wyatt couldn't even be bothered to be awake when she so wanted to talk to him.
Before she walked away, though, she glanced at his face one more time. What she saw made her stop moving, practically stop thinking. Because his eyes were wide open, not glazed with sleep. His expression was not at all unsure or confused. He was fully alert and apparently very curious.
"Wyatt?"
He didn't reply. He just stared at her, as if he couldn't speak...as if his jaw was frozen shut.
He was giving her a chance to talk and she leapt at it.
"I love you."
He didn't move a muscle.
"I know you don't believe that right now, and I've given you reason to think it's not true. But I am crazy in love with you and I have been for as long as I can remember."
Nicole couldn't look at him, couldn't stand to watch his face and see if her words were getting through to him. Clenching her hands tightly in front of her, she walked around the hammock and moved to the railing to stare out at the water.
"You were right to be angry with me. I should have told you about Justin the minute I realized you didn't know he existed. All I can say is that I'm sorry. I was in shock. Everything just spun out of control so quickly, and I couldn't find the words, much less say them. I was afraid of how you’d react. Afraid you wouldn’t believe me when I told you I didn’t know you came for me.”
The breeze picked up and the water took on more of a chop. The sailboat rocked lightly. Reaching toward the deck rail, Nicole clutched it, keeping her back toward Wyatt. "And you're right. I was also afraid I might lose Justin. It didn't take long to realize that letting you in Justin's life didn't mean I'd lose him, but by that time, you'd seen him and I'd missed my chance to tell you myself."
Drawing moist, salt-tinged air into her mouth, Nicole pulled her arms across her body. She ran her hands up and down her arms to ward off the chill of the night—and the memories of all the cold nights she’d wanted to be sleeping in this man’s arms.
She still wanted that.
"I want a life with you. I want the life we should have had together." She turned slowly, steeling herself to face derision or disbelief in his eyes. "I'll stay here. I don't ever have to return to Maryland, as long as you want me to stay. But whether that happens or not, I want you to know that I truly love you. I always have, and I always will."
Wyatt didn't reply. He just continued to stare at her from the hammock, as if measuring her words, weighing them for truth. Nicole had never felt so naked, so exposed in her entire life. She'd never once given anyone else so much power over her, so much ability to hurt her after she'd laid her heart completely bare. He neither smiled, nor frowned.
I'm too late, she thought. He didn't love her anymore.
Finally, though, his mouth softened. A slow, sweet smile spread across his lips. She struggled in the moonlight to see the look in his eyes, and saw the familiar tenderness she'd been waiting for. Her heart leaped into her throat and she took one faltering step closer to him.
"I waited a long time to hear you say that, Nicole,” Wyatt admitted, wondering if she could hear the emotion that threatened to choke him. “I needed to hear you say that. I needed you to take a chance, to risk everything and just be honest with me about how you feel, no matter the consequences.”
He shifted back on the hammock, making room for her. Nicole crossed the deck in a few short steps and slid into his arms.
“I needed you to fight for me. For us,” he admitted.
Wyatt closed his eyes and held her close, breathing in the clean scent of her hair as she tucked her head beneath his chin. Nothing had ever felt so right. Nicole was in his arms, where she belonged, and she loved him. She really loved him. Wyatt had always suspected in the deepest part of himself that she did, but he hadn't allowed that certainty to gel in his mind until now. If she'd proclaimed it with a banner in the sky she couldn't have convinced him more.
And she deserved to know her feelings were returned. She’d bared her heart. He could do no less.
"I've always loved you, too, Nicole. Always. Even when I thought I hated you. You're my heart. You and Justin."
He leaned toward her, finding her sweet mouth and catching her sigh with a warm, hungry kiss. Her arms slid around his neck as she pressed her body against his and they held tightly, as if afraid to let go.
Finally, the kiss ended, and he moved his mouth to her cheek, then her temple, then the soft spot below her ear.
"I was afraid you were going to push me overboard when you came creeping up from downstairs," he said with a chuckle as he nuzzled her neck.
She pulled away and stared up at him accusingly. "You were awake the whole time?"
Wyatt nodded. "There was no way I could fall asleep knowing you were right downstairs, wearing something as demurely sexy as these pajamas." He slid the flat of his hand down her back, cupping her hip.
"And you let me go on muttering to myself..."
Wyatt caught her mouth in another kiss to interrupt her scold. Somehow, his hands made their way underneath the cotton top of her nightie and he began tracing circles over her skin. He absorbed her shivers, knowing she wasn't cold. She arched into his palms, urging his hands higher, and he complied. He caught her firm breast in his palm, cupped its weight and slid his thumb over her taut nipple. "Cold?"
"Never been warmer," she whispered against his mouth.
Wyatt knew when her hands grew insistent that she was in no mood for a gentle loving. She touched him frantically, tugging his clothes off his body and tossing them in a heap onto the deck of the boat. Her own soon followed and Wyatt paused, forcing her to slow down so he could admire her in the moonlight.
"You wear night well."
She pulled him down for another kiss. Their skin met from chest to calf, and Wyatt savored every sensation. Unable to wait, he moved over her, pulling one slim thigh around his hip.
"Think you can keep your balance?" she asked with a chuckle.
He grinned. "I might have to lean on you.”
“Lean away.”
Then he was all seriousness, catching her eyes and staring deeply into them as he sunk into her warmth, losing all thought, all reality. Nothing else existed except the woman in his arms. Her softness, her scent, her sweet, slick heat. She enveloped him, took everything he had, her hips arching up to him in welcome. Buried deep inside her, Wyatt closed his eyes and savored the sensation. It was perfect. Like coming home.
Then instinct and hunger took over. They thrust together, building the intensity, the pleasure, until Wyatt felt pretty damn sure he’d buried himself in her so deeply that she’d feel him even when they were apart. At least he hoped so. Because, God knew, he’d felt her all these years, and knew he would all the days of his life.
"I love you," one of them whispered, Wyatt wasn't sure who. He didn't think it mattered which one of them said the words aloud. They were both feeling the same depth of emotion.
They continued to feel it all night long. To say it, and to express it physically with the most intense lovemaking he’d ever experienced. The Gulf breeze blew and the sailboat swayed and the moon and stars shone down on them. And they loved.
Finally, just before dawn, they pulled their clothes back on, then fell asleep, curled in each other's arms. At about seven in the morning, Wyatt heard quiet footfalls on the steps. His son peeked at him from the steps leading to the cabin, and their eyes met. Wyatt saw Justin glance at his mother, curled asleep in Wyatt's arms, then silently ask a question. Wyatt nodded, reassuring the boy that all was well.
Justin gave a thumbs up, grinned widely, and hopped back down the steps, confirming what he’d already figured out.
They were a family.
EPILOGUE
Twelve Months Later
Watching Justin squirm and tug at the collar of his dress shirt, Wyatt had to hide a grin. Though it had only been a year since Justin's prep school days, the boy had obviously gotten used to jeans and tee shirts, and was no longer comfortable in school uniforms and dress clothes. He’d adapted so well to life in Florida that it was hard to even get a pair of shoes on the kid’s feet.
"She's late," Justin whispered, and his voice carried well out into the pews of the small chapel.
Wyatt gave a quick negative shake of his head, silently telling his son to be quiet, just as the first bars of the wedding march
began to play. Everyone in the congregation turned as the bride entered the back of the church.
"She looks lovely," someone whispered.
Wyatt smiled and nodded in agreement. The bride, indeed, looked radiant. Her face was all smiles as she passed the well-wishers, and when she reached the altar, her hand slid easily into the groom's.
"Your dad looks as uncomfortable in the tux as Justin does," Wyatt whispered into Nicole's ear. She shushed him, turning her attention toward the front of the church, where her father was about to marry Maria. Justin stood next to his grandfather, comfortable in his duties as best man, since he'd managed them so admirably last summer during Wyatt and Nicole's wedding.
Tears came to her eyes as Josh and Maria exchanged their vows. Nicole couldn't help reminiscing a bit about the day she and Wyatt had married. It had been a summer wedding, small, simple, and as gloriously happy as she could ever have imagined, even if the groom and the mother-of-the-bride hadn’t exchanged so much as a word.
After some soul-searching and several conversations, Nicole had managed to forgive her mother, and Justin had too. It had taken Wyatt quite a while longer. But that was slowly changing. Wyatt was never going to entirely get over what Monica had done—costing him so many years of Justin’s life—but he’d at least begun to concede that she was a loving grandmother and deserved to have a relationship with their family. It was a start, anyway.
"Gee, don't we have an anniversary coming up sometime soon?" he whispered in her ear. She looked up and saw by the sparkle in his green eyes that he knew full well their one year anniversary was just a week away.
"You've already gotten your present," Nicole whispered back with a smirk.
Though, to be fair, it had been her present, too. A most precious one.
“I most certainly have,” he whispered. Lacing his fingers through hers, he pulled them to his mouth and lightly kissed the back of her hand.
After the ceremony, they stood and watched Josh and Maria exit the church. They were followed by Justin, who escorted Simone.