Wyatt grinned at Rachel as he impulsively hugged her to him. “You’re learning, Rachel. You’re definitely learning.”
“Well,” Wyatt overheard his mother say as she glanced over in his direction, “Two down, one to go,” Ariel declared pointedly.
Wyatt shook his head. “That woman is never satisfied,” he told Rachel, knowing she had to have caught his mother’s words, as well.
“Who’s the other one ‘down’?” Rachel asked him, curious about the reference.
“That would be my brother, Jake. He’s the oldest one,” Wyatt told her. “He and his wife, Mary, moved to North Dakota. My guess is it was to get away from my mother. They don’t have any kids yet. And Mom started nagging them about that. But now that Myra’s going to make her a grandmother, maybe Jake and Mary will move back to Southern California. From what I hear, Mary was never crazy about the cold weather.”
Rachel looked a little wistful. He raised one eyebrow, silently asking her if anything was wrong.
She was tempted to pretend ignorance, then decided to be honest with Wyatt. She had always valued honesty. “It must be nice having a big family.”
“It would be,” he agreed, “if my mother wasn’t as vocal as she is about everything she views as a disappointment or a shortcoming.”
“Someday,” Rachel predicted, thinking of her own mother, “a long time from now, you might find that you miss the sound of her voice.”
Wyatt shrugged. “It’ll have to be a long, long, long time from now,” he answered. “C’mon, let’s finally get something to eat. The line to the canapés table might be clear by now, seeing as how everyone is surrounding my sister and her husband.”
Rachel placed her hand in his.
* * *
Rachel had to admit that she was having a wonderful time. Between rubbing elbows with Wyatt and Myra’s friends and having several helpings of food, everything felt perfect.
Ordinarily, she never had much of a chance to eat at work. In the last two years she had always been too busy making it to actually eat and enjoy it. And by the time she got home at night, she was too tired to eat. There were always classes to catch up on.
After all the guests at the celebration had had at least one serving of the main meal, if not two, the band began to play. For the most part what they played was happy music with a fast beat.
“Would you like to dance?” Wyatt asked her after two numbers had been played. He looked as if he was ready to get up, assuming that her answer was going to be yes.
But she remained just where she was. “Would you like to have your feet stepped on?”
Wyatt laughed, then pretended to regard her skeptically.
“You can’t really be that bad,” he told her, ready to draw back her chair.
“I wouldn’t be taking any bets on that if I were you.”
Wyatt refused to believe her. “You know, I really don’t think that you give yourself enough credit, Rachel.”
“I’m just issuing you a fair warning,” she said.
Wyatt paused, listening to the song that the band was just beginning to play. It was one he was familiar with. “It’s a slow number. All you have to do is move your feet a little and sway your hips once in a while. That’s not very complicated and everyone will think that you’re dancing,” he guaranteed. “Besides, the buzz about Myra and her pregnancy hasn’t died down yet. That’ll take the focus off you. So you can relax.”
“I don’t think so,” Rachel said seriously, still sitting right where she was.
“Oh, c’mon,” Wyatt urged. “What do you have to lose?” He was standing next to her chair and holding out his hand, waiting for her to take it.
“My dignity?” It was more of a question than a statement.
He laughed. “Nobody comes to one of these things to show off their dignity, Rachel. Remember, you agreed that this is your day to cut loose and enjoy yourself. Tomorrow it will be back to cleaning the castle, Cinderella. But tonight you get to be the belle of the ball,” Wyatt told her.
“Belle of the ball. That role is reserved for your sister,” she pointed out.
“Okay,” Wyatt agreed amicably. “That means that no one is paying attention to you so you can dance any way you want to.” Again, he put out his hand to her.
She frowned, not taking it. But then she conceded, “I’m running out of arguments.”
“Good.” He grinned. “Because I’m running out of things to say to persuade you.” Placing his hands on her shoulders, Wyatt drew her up to her feet. “C’mon,” he urged, “can’t you hear? They’re playing our song.”
She listened to the music for a moment. The band had concluded the previous number and was now playing yet another one. It took her a moment to pinpoint the song’s title.
“‘Sincerely’?” she asked incredulously. Was he serious? “Our song is ‘Sincerely’?” Rachel repeated, staring at Wyatt.
“Rachel,” he replied patiently. “Our song is anything you want it to be as long as I can get you to dance with me. So are you ready to finally yield to me?”
“You are persistent, I’ll give you that,” Rachel said. For now, she decided to surrender. It was a small point to concede. And she did like this song. It reminded her of her mother, who used to sing it to her when she had been a little girl.
Wyatt laughed under his breath. “It runs in the family,” he told her, looking in his mother’s direction.
Ariel Watson had clamped down on his sister and it didn’t look as if she was about to release her hold on the young woman anytime soon.
Following his glance, Rachel saw that his mother was still talking Myra’s ear off, holding on to the young woman’s hand and on occasion patting it.
“I kind of feel sorry for your sister,” she told Wyatt.
“Don’t be. This is a good kind of attention and it beats the prying kind—my mother’s usual mode of attention—by a country mile. Right now it looks like she’s dedicating herself to my sister’s comfort. You know,” he went on, looking down into Rachel’s upturned face, “that doesn’t sound like all that bad of an idea if you ask me.” His mouth curved. “Maybe I should do the same thing.”
“Dedicate yourself to Myra’s comfort?” Rachel asked, amused.
“No,” he answered, his voice low and suddenly extremely sexy. “To yours.”
Rachel felt it again. Those warm ripples that seemed to undulate sensuously up and down all along her skin, making her particularly aware of every single bone in her body.
Aware of the way his hand felt, holding hers, and the way his body seemed to fit against hers as if they were extensions of one another as they both swayed in time to the music.
“By the way,” Wyatt continued, “in case you haven’t noticed, you’re dancing.” His smile widened, filtering into his eyes. “Quite well, I might add.”
“Don’t compliment me,” she quietly requested. “Or you’ll make me miss a step.”
“Don’t worry,” Wyatt replied, drawing her even closer against him. “If you miss that step, I’ll be sure to find it for you,” he promised, whispering the words against her hair.
She shouldn’t have come, Rachel thought. Being here with Wyatt like this had managed to create a longing within her that she hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
Too long, she realized.
Again, Rachel silently told herself that she didn’t have time for this.
Didn’t have time to invest in developing any sort of a relationship.
Relationships were for later, once she was satisfied that her father was fully recovered and she was finally finished getting a nursing degree. Then she could think about having a relationship.
But somehow, despite the logical sense all of that made, she found herself tempted more and more by that desire.
What had she gotten herself into?
“Are you having a good time?” she heard Wyatt ask her.
It felt as if not only his breath but his words, too, were gliding down along her skin, stirring her. Seducing her.
She knew it was breaking some sort of rule written down in the first-date handbook, but she had never been the one to be coy.
“Yes,” she told him, “I am. But then I wouldn’t have said yes to coming here with you if I had thought it would be otherwise.”
“I’m glad, then,” he told her. “Although I have to admit that I had some concerns about you having to put up with my mother. I was afraid that she would have had you running for the hills. She’s good at doing that to people.”
“I like your mother,” Rachel said, surprising him. “I grant you that she’s a wee bit unusual, but it’s all based totally on love.”
That really caught him off guard. “Oh?” Wyatt laughed, drawing her back a little so he could look into her eyes. “And you know this how?”
“From all of my years at the restaurant,” she answered seriously. “Observing customers as they interacted with one another. With family members.”
He pretended to solemnly consider her words. “Then I guess I should watch myself around you if I don’t want to give anything away.”
What she wanted to ask was, Like what? But she didn’t. Instead she said, “Oh, definitely,” trying very hard not to laugh.
“Warning taken under advisement,” Wyatt responded. The song had ended and another one, a far livelier one, took its place.
She had expected Wyatt to lead her back to their table.
Instead, he continued dancing with her, holding her in his arms as the tempo increased. His dancing kept pace with the song.
“We’re never going back to our table, are we?” Rachel asked him.
“Oh, eventually,” he acknowledged. “Right now I am having far too much fun enjoying this new, liberated Rachel.”
“Be sure to tell my father that when you carry my limp, unconscious body home tonight. I guarantee he’ll be waiting up and he’ll want to know what you did to me to get me so exhausted.”
“That doesn’t worry me.” He grinned. “Your father likes me.”
Rachel knew he wasn’t bragging. She was very aware of just how much her father regarded Wyatt with gratitude and affection. She herself was exceedingly thankful for everything Wyatt had managed to do and accomplish, working with her father.
“He does, doesn’t he?” she said by way of agreement. “That really does put you in a class all by yourself. My father doesn’t take to many men—or women for that matter.” With the exception of Johanna, she thought. “I can probably count the whole lot of them on five fingers of one hand. Most of the time he has a personality not unlike that of a wounded lion with a large thorn stuck in his paw.”
“Colorful,” Wyatt commented. He spun her around one final time as the music wound down.
“On the contrary,” Rachel corrected him. “I prefer to think of it as truthful.”
The band was playing a slow song now, and without really thinking about it, Rachel found herself resting her head against Wyatt’s shoulder as she let herself go with the new tempo.
It just seemed like the thing to do, she thought, letting the moment and the mood lead her.
She caught herself hoping this evening—and most of all, this fantasy that had slipped over her—would never end.
But she knew that there was no getting away from the inevitability that it would.
Still, she was grateful for the time that she had been able to harvest.
Chapter Fourteen
“I guess this is what Cinderella must have felt like when she heard the tower clock strike midnight,” Rachel commented.
All the guests in the ballroom had either already left or were in the process of leaving. Rachel realized with some regret that she and Wyatt would have to go, as well.
She jumped slightly as she felt Wyatt slipping her shawl about her shoulders. Focused on the other guests, she hadn’t been prepared for that. His hands lingered there for a long moment, doing far more to warm her than the shawl possibly could.
“Well, it’s not exactly quite that late,” he informed her with a smile, referring to her comment about midnight. “But I promise I won’t be turning into a pumpkin.”
“That was the coach,” Rachel tactfully reminded him. It was a children’s story so it was easy to see how he might have gotten his details confused. “The coach turned back into a pumpkin, not the prince.”
“So I’m the prince?” Wyatt asked, raising an amused eyebrow.
Sometimes she talked too much. Right now, she felt it was safer if she just changed the subject.
She glanced down at the shawl that was wrapped around her shoulders.
“Taking this shawl along was a really good idea,” she told Wyatt.
He smiled down into her face as they slowly made their way through the ballroom. “I guess I have my moments.”
Yes, he certainly did, Rachel couldn’t help thinking. But that wasn’t something that she was willing to admit to him out loud. She didn’t want Wyatt thinking that she was flirting with him—at least more than she actually was doing.
As they made their way toward the door, Rachel was very aware of him.
Aware of his hand against her back, guiding her through the groups of people saying their goodbyes and congratulating the parents-to-be one last time.
She was also acutely aware of the cologne he was wearing that seemed to wind its way through her whole system.
She supposed that this was the result of her not going out for the last two years, except when she was going to the restaurant and then coming back home to slavishly take those online classes.
But until Wyatt came along, what Elliott had done to her had left a very bad taste in her mouth.
She’d definitely had no desire to socialize with a man on any sort of personal basis. But then Wyatt had changed everything.
However, Rachel knew she couldn’t allow herself to get carried away. Once upon a time, Elliott had seemed like the answer to a prayer. At least when they had first started seeing each other.
But as time passed, she’d begun to see flaws in the man.
Very large flaws.
She supposed that she had been willing to turn a blind eye to all those flaws, forgiving him—until she had to remain behind and take care of her father after his heart attack while Elliott continued with his plans to go onto college without so much as even thinking about how abandoned that made her feel.
She frowned, remembering the hurt, although she knew that she couldn’t have very well asked him to stay behind. She had sent him off making him feel that he had her blessings.
But then Elliott had never called to find out how her father was doing.
There had been exactly one call from him, and it wasn’t even to ask about her father’s condition. He had called to say something to the effect of how hard it was settling into a fast-paced college life.
After that, there was nothing.
Not a single word.
She had had to learn from friends that he had found someone else to take her place and that their dating had quickly gotten serious.
And then, shortly thereafter, he had married the young woman. A baby, she found out, came nine months later.
It was an excessively bitter pill for Rachel to swallow.
“Is something wrong?” she heard Wyatt ask as they made their way up to the front of the room and his sister and brother-in-law. “You’ve gotten exceedingly quiet,” he observed.
“No,” Rachel quickly retorted. “I was just thinking about what a nice time I’ve had.”
“Well, you don’t look like someone who’s just had a nice time,” Wyatt commented, then, in the next second, he decided to cover for her. “But you’re probabl
y just tired. Having fun can take a great deal out of you.”
“Maybe,” Rachel allowed, thinking how much nicer Wyatt was about things than Elliott had ever been. For one thing, he seemed exceedingly understanding, always placing other people ahead of himself. That was something that she couldn’t recall Elliott ever doing.
The next moment, they had reached the head of the line and were saying their goodbyes to Myra and Matthew—and Wyatt’s mother.
Amazingly, while the couple looked tired, Ariel Watson did not. The woman looked every bit as fresh as she had when they had first seen her heading straight for them.
“Thank you for coming,” Myra said sincerely, embracing Rachel and then her brother.
“Well, thank you for letting me come,” Rachel countered.
She looked down at the woman’s trim waist. It wouldn’t be that way for long. Rachel found herself envying the young woman. She really wanted a baby herself.
Maybe someday, she thought wistfully.
“And if you need anything,” Rachel told Wyatt’s sister, “please let me know.” As she said those words, a thought occurred to her. “And when the time comes, I just want you to know that Vesuvius is a great place to hold a baby shower.”
Myra’s face lit up. “I will definitely keep that in mind,” she promised, barely containing her bubbling excitement.
Ariel seemed to swoop in just at that moment. Her eyes meet Rachel’s. “I take it we’ll be seeing you again—soon.”
“I’d like that,” Rachel told the woman with genuine feeling. Her answer seemed to take Ariel completely by surprise.
“I just want you to know that I am planning on holding you to that,” Wyatt’s mother informed Rachel, pinning her with a penetrating look.
At that point, Wyatt gently guided Rachel out in front of him. “See you, Mom. Dad,” he added, nodding at the all but silent, tall man with an incredible amount of snow-white hair, who was standing beside Ariel.
And then, Wyatt managed to get both himself and Rachel out the door without any further verbal exchange with anyone.
The moment they were in the hotel lobby, he turned toward Rachel and said, “You do realize that we’re going to have to move, don’t you? My mother is not about to forget what you just said about the baby shower.”
The Late Bloomer's Road to Love Page 12