The Makeover Surprise (Surprised by Love Book 2)

by Laura Burton

  “Of course…” Her eyes flicker and then widen with recognition. “Did you think that was what I had planned for you and Wyatt?”

  I tell them what happened in the maze, and that brightens Chessy’s mood with immediate effect. “That is hilarious! Oh my gosh, I wish I was there to see his face.”

  “Oh, it was a picture!” Leila says, chuckling.

  I give my sisters a few moments to laugh at my expense. Even though the whole thing doesn’t feel very funny to me right now.

  “So, what did you have planned? Am I allowed to know, or are you going to keep me in the dark?” I ask when they finally stop sniggering. Leila leans in to give me a pointed look. “The less you know, the better.” Then she taps her nose and walks out of the room. I look at Chessy. “Do you know anything about this?”

  She shrugs innocently, but a tiny smile creeps across her face.

  “Come on, let’s go see what all that shouting is about,” she says, linking her arm with mine.

  And just like that, we’re best friends again. Chessy is back to her cute and bubbly self, totally unaware of the blotches she’s inflicted on her face with all her crying. I wonder whether to tell her, but I’m not sure my nerves can handle another confrontation today.

  We walk out into the garden and I stop in my tracks. The sun is setting over the crest of a hill. Big bushy trees wave in the breeze and an amber glow has settled over the huge garden. The vast grounds are like an oil painting, with birds sweeping across the majestic sky, and the tops of trees waving in the breeze.

  Further down the garden, near a little patch of woodland, two shirtless men are hurling axes into a wooden board.

  I watch an axe hurtle through the air and land with a little thud. Then the men start shouting and cheering.

  “Are those… Blaze and Wyatt?” I ask, squinting.

  “Oh for goodness sake, what are they doing? They’re supposed to be chopping wood for the campfire,” Leila huffs. She marches forward a few steps but staggers sideways and bends over, panting with her hands on her knees. Chessy and I dash over and each takes an arm. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just got a bit dizzy for a second there.” She straightens, places a serene smile on her face and pats us both on the shoulder.

  My mind lists all of the reasons someone might get dizzy: inner ear infection, low blood sugar, low blood pressure, standing up too quickly... But before I can finish the list, we’ve reached the two axe-wielding men. They both look like they just swaggered out of a medieval role playing game.

  Wyatt’s tanned chest stares at me, sparkling with jewels of sweat on a mountainous manscape of muscles. His pectorals tense and seem to move independently as he raises an axe above his head, looking at his target with a frown. I swallow. My mouth is dry as a desert, and the drops sitting on his sun-kissed skin are calling out to me like cold water in a heatwave.

  The axe slices through the air and buries itself in the board, right in the bullseye. Blaze claps Wyatt’s back as he offers praise. I just stand there, staring and licking my lips like I’ve never seen Wyatt before.

  Right now, he’s not Wyatt the Cheetos guy or Wyatt the businessman. He’s not even the man I need for my article.

  He’s a plate of profiteroles, filled with decadent cream and covered in lashings of melted chocolate.

  My stomach grumbles. All this time we’ve been at a party with copious amounts of food to consume, I haven’t had one bite.

  “Hey.” Wyatt’s voice jolts me out of my head and I realize he’s now standing two feet away and I’m still looking at his pectorals.

  This is scandalous. How dare he take his shirt off in company? In front of me? Doesn’t he know I can take a memory and obsessively replay it in my head over and over again until the day I die? This moment is burned in my mind now, and I’ll spend sleepless nights thinking about Wyatt with his shirt off.

  Long after the article is finished, and even after Wyatt disappears forever, I’ll still be thinking about his glistening muscles in amber light.

  He’ll show up in my dreams. My daydreams. It’ll become a nightmare.

  I still can’t understand why we haven’t kissed yet. I inspect his mouth, tracing the outline of his plump bottom lip with my eyes, while slowly licking mine. Wyatt must have noticed, because his mouth curves upward and he holds my upper arms tenderly. Finally, I look up into his eyes and they crease at the edges, twinkling at me like two bronze jewels. He cocks his head. “You look like you’re miles away, but I’d love to know what you’re thinking.”

  My insides shiver in the most delicious way at the sound of his gravelly voice.

  “I was thinking I’m starving.”

  It’s true. I am starving. But I wouldn’t complain if the only thing on the menu is this tall hunk of a man.

  “Great! There’s loads of food in the kitchen, come on.”

  I blink several times, as though I’ve just been roused from a deep sleep. I had forgotten all about Blaze and my sisters, who I now see are all looking at me strangely. I can’t tell if they’re smiling or grimacing, and they share a low chuckle with each other as we make our way back up to the house.

  But the next thing I know, buckets of ice cold water drench me from head to toe. At least, it feels like buckets of ice cold water. With a shuddering gasp, I clench my arms against my sides and blink the droplets out of my eyes to see the sprinklers just came on. Somehow, Blaze and my sisters avoided them, having walked ahead a little. Wyatt has been equally drenched. He, on the other hand, appears to be enjoying himself. His back is arched and he’s rubbing his bare chest with a contented smile. Forgetting the fact I’m probably going to get hypothermia, I watch what looks a lot like Tarzan taking a shower in the rain.

  A giggle catches my attention and I see Leila and Chessy looking at us in sheer amusement. Blaze continues the walk up to the house.

  “Oh, oops! I forgot to change the timer on the sprinkler system,” Leila shouts over the sound of the rushing water.

  “Why don’t you two go and sit by the campfire to dry off and we’ll bring the food to you!”

  Chessy and Leila give me the thumbs up just before they turn and follow Blaze.

  So, this was the plan?

  I guess Leila thought I wouldn’t be able to fake surprise if I knew in advance. Or maybe she figured I’d never agree to it.

  We cross the garden lawns and hop onto the path. My dress is clinging to me like a second skin and the cool evening air teases goosebumps out of me.

  Wyatt takes my hand roughly. “Come on,” he says. And then he sets off on a run, dragging me behind. I stumble, completely incapable of running in heels. So I pause briefly to pull them off and then take off after him in a full sprint. The two of us reach the roaring campfire breathless and laughing.

  The heat of the flames licks my calves and cheeks, but nothing feels hotter than my hand inside Wyatt’s.

  We settle on a log and huddle together, letting the fire do its job. Within minutes, Wyatt’s hair turns super curly and slightly frizzy at the roots. With a lopsided grin, I smooth it out behind his ear and he flashes me a smile. “You look like Paris.”

  “Who?” he asks. “You know... Orlando Bloom in the movie Troy.”

  Wyatt grins, evidently pleased with the comparison. “As long as you don’t call me Legolas, I’m happy with that.”

  I smirk at him. “No, you’re definitely King Aragorn.”

  Wyatt brushes my hair back from my shoulder and the chilly air clashes with the heat, sending mixed signals to my brain as my neck sizzles.

  “You’d make a very pretty Arwen.”

  He’s speaking my language now. There’s no pretense. No cryptic comments. No confusion. Just pure, raw Lord of the Rings references. And his gaze keeps lowering to my mouth.

  Maybe Leila had the right idea after all? Maybe all it takes to get a guy to kiss you, is to get stuck in the sprinklers and sit by a fire? I should definitely add this to my article. This advice is golden.


  “I know I said I wanted to keep things casual,” Wyatt mutters, leaning in. My breathing speeds up and his eyes flit to my chest for a splinter of a second, and then they look back at me. But there’s something different about them. His pupils have gone wide and dark. The reflection of the campfire dances in his eyes, and I feel like I’ve stopped breathing altogether.

  I tell myself not to get my hopes up. He’s not going to kiss me. This is just him playing hard to get. He’s teasing me, ramping up the tension. Then he’ll pull away again, leaving me in agony.

  But then he nips his bottom lip and rests his hand on the back of my neck, caressing my jawline with his thumb.

  Usually, being touched like this would have me recoil like a snake with a hiss.

  But when he touches me, it feels like coming home after a long day. Warm, cozy, and oh, so right.

  Oh, stars in the heavens above, please tell me I’m going to get my first kiss with Wyatt.

  “Yes?” I say, urging him to continue. But Wyatt doesn’t seem interested in saying anything more. His gaze is now settled firmly on my mouth and he’s leaning in. I automatically close my eyes and arch my neck, waiting for the sweet moment his lips touch mine.

  I wonder if they’ll taste salty. Or if they’ll feel rough against my skin. I wonder if his tongue will drag across my lips, melting all the tension away like butter.

  His breath tickles my face and a hand squeezes the back of my neck, pulling me forward.

  But just as his lips gently graze mine, approaching footsteps make us break apart to look behind us.

  “Here we go, you guys. Help yourselves to as much food as you like. There’s a lot more where that came from!”

  Blaze settles trays of meat and rolls on a small table near us, apparently unaware of what he almost walked in on. I generally like my brother-in-law. But right now, I want to take the brisket and slap him across the face with it.

  Leila’s panicked shout floods the air.

  “Blaze! Can I see you in the kitchen for a minute?”

  Blaze’s face turns innocent. “Erm. Sure, babe. I’ll be right there.”

  “Now please! It’s a…huge spider! Help me!”

  She’s lying. If Leila saw a spider, she’d be screeching several octaves higher. But I appreciate what she’s trying to do. Damage control. I can just picture her now, hopping up and down and silently screaming, cursing the fact she turned away from Blaze for two seconds, only for him to walk off and ruin our moment.

  Blaze chuckles. “Duty calls.”

  He walks away and I look at Wyatt again, my cheeks on fire. “You were saying something before about… keeping things casual?”

  Now it’s Wyatt’s turn to blush. At least, his cheeks look flushed. He scratches the back of his head and bites against a grin. “Right.”

  I shuffle a little closer to him, my clothes drier now, and my body no longer shivering. I’m so tempted to remind him of just what we were doing before Blaze’s terrible timing ruined the moment, but Wyatt picks up a plate and starts piling food on it. “Do you want slaw?”

  I lean back and swallow against the rising disappointment. The moment is gone. His stomach has taken over all his other thoughts, and as I watch him unwrap a sheath of sweetcorn, my stomach rumbles again.

  “Sure,” I say, a little glum. Wyatt proceeds to fill a plate for me.

  The two of us eat mostly in silence, listening to the fire crackle and the cicadas singing in the night. No one comes to join us. I imagine Leila has given Blaze and Chessy strict orders to stay the heck away from the campfire. Which is a waste, because there’s no lip locking happening over here. And in the absence of getting hot and heavy with this stud––who remains shirtless, may I add––I’d rather listen to some conversation. Especially if Blaze is telling more stories about his crazy auditions, or the pranks he and the rest of the cast at his current movie like to play on each other on set.

  When I finish my food, I hug my knees to myself, wishing I was wearing a pair of stretchy leggings and a baggy shirt right now. The shapewear is threatening to burst at the seams, my stomach is gurgling at the confinement, and I wonder if that’s going to burst as well.

  “What a day!” Wyatt stretches out. “I really hope Chessy doesn’t have anything to do with Gary from now on.”

  “Don’t worry. She’ll be saying ‘Gary who?’ by tomorrow.”

  “It’s good she has you and Leila.” Wyatt turns thoughtful, gazing into the flaming embers of the fire. “I’m an only child, it would have been nice to have brothers.”

  “I would have liked brothers as well, my sisters don’t like gaming very much,” I blurt, not thinking about my words. I gulp, wondering if I’ve just let the cat out of the bag. But with any luck, Wyatt wasn’t listening and I’ve gotten away with it. I glance at him, clench my jaw, and wait for his reaction.

  “You game?” he asks. His tone is mild and his expression is only slightly surprised. I pick at the seam of my dress and chew the inside of my cheek until it’s sore.

  “A bit. When I was younger, you know? I don’t do it now. I mean… that’s so dorky, right? Playing games when you should be adulting,” I ramble, tucking hair behind my ear. Wyatt studies me thoughtfully, as though he’s observing an interesting display at a museum. “Right,” he says, finally. “I have a question for you.”

  My head snaps up with a crack as I look at him, now hopeful.

  A question? My mind works overtime trying to guess what it is.

  Can I kiss you? Yes.

  Will you be my girlfriend? Sure thing.

  Will you run away with me to New Zealand? I will!

  “Do you like books?”

  I pause. Nope. I did not see that question coming. All the reading and advice my sisters gave me did not prepare me for a question like this.

  The internet told me to mirror his interests, but I don’t know if Wyatt likes books. Maybe he hates books and people who read them. Maybe this is a sneaky test and if I answer wrong, I’ll never see him again.

  My sisters told me to be myself… but not too much. So I can tell him I love books. But telling him all about my extensive library of Lord of the Rings novels in six languages might be a bit much.

  I opt for an answer that is both honest and cute. “Sure, can’t get enough of them.” I flash him a sweet smile with a shrug and Wyatt’s whole face breaks into a gleeful grin.

  Right answer.

  “There’s a book fair in my hometown tomorrow. People are asked to dress up as their favorite book characters and…”

  “I’ve got an Arwen outfit!” I blurt. I’m so excited I think I might pass out.

  “Does this mean you want to come?” Wyatt asks, his grin growing even wider. I nod along like a goofy dog. He takes my hand and the touch sends a beautiful rush of happiness straight to my heart.

  “Great! Then I’d better get you home.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Wyatt

  I wake up bright and early the next morning, having fallen asleep thinking about Lucy.

  She’s the first thing on my mind, bright and cheerful in my mind’s eye.

  She was so cute, drenched head to toe by the sprinklers.

  And the way the campfire lit up her face later at night was enchanting. Seeing the glow of the flames licking at every exposed part of her body... Man, was I jealous.

  I wanted to kiss her more than anything in the world, but the thick smoke was clinging to the back of my throat and making my eyes water.

  Then there was the fact that we kept getting interrupted.

  I could tell, by the way she pinched her brows together and gave Blaze the death stare, that she was just as frustrated as I was.

  Why on earth did I tell her I want to keep things casual?

  I should have scooped her up in my arms and kissed her on our first date. She’s adorable.

  There’s something about Lucy that is so easy...

  She’s free, and honest.

  She makes
me feel like I can be myself.

  There’s no game playing, no second-guessing. She’s just straight, and raw, and real.

  Being with her makes me feel like my chest might burst. I want to squeeze her hips, her arms… All of her. I want to nip on her lips, caress her cheeks… Slide my hands down her back.

  I hotfoot into the shower and turn it to its coldest setting to stop the rush of heat flooding south. It works. My body tenses under the extreme cold, and my head goes fuzzy.

  But the water doesn’t get rid of the image of Lucy laughing and tossing her head back and twisting her dark hair around her fingers.

  I want to make her laugh like that every day… It’ll be my daily task, and I’ll find all sorts of creative ways to get her to crack a smile. My world is brighter with her in it. And my mind has become totally obsessed with her.

  I check the clock as I walk out of the bathroom, securing my towel around my waist. In all the excitement, I didn’t talk to Lucy about what to wear to the book fair.

  But I can hazard a guess on who she might be.

  I pull open my closet and move my suits to the left to see the dark bag hanging right in the corner.

  I’ve been saving this outfit for something really special.

  My mouth tugs into a smile as I reach for it, then I unzip the bag to look at the contents.

  “It’s perfect,” I say to no one.

  There’s just one thing missing. I stretch and reach for the old jewelry box between two shoe boxes.

  I don’t want things to stay casual between Lucy and I. But I don’t know how to tell her everything that’s going on in my head. I mean, where do I even start? Will she want to keep seeing me when she finds out I can’t cope with most brands of cleaning agent? Or that I can’t cope with small talk? What if she gets fed up with me when she discovers how regimented my morning routine is?

  There needs to be more between us, and I would like, more than anything, to let her in. I want to kiss her, protect her, and give her everything she wants.