Hope Falls_Sweet Serendipity Page 11

And somehow, Wyatt Owens completely had her.

  “And how is it that I never knew you were funny?” she added.

  “You never looked.”

  And that, she was beginning to realize, was a shame for both of them.

  “I’m looking now,” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  She pushed him onto his back and straddled him, felt him growing beneath her as she leaned down to kiss him. “Oh, yeah.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “You’re killing me here, Ryder.”

  Skye flicked a grin back at Wyatt. “You play PAC-MAN your way. I’ll play mine.”

  “But you’re going to—ugh.”

  The pink ghost chomped up her PacMan, and You Lose flashed across the screen.

  “Aww, Miss Skye, you can try again if you want,” Nicholas offered.

  “No, no,” she said. “I bow to the superiority of your uncle in manly video games.”

  Wyatt’s eyes narrowed.

  He’d taken every opportunity to touch her today—squeezing her hand when she walked past, pushing a lock of hair out of her face while she was making sandwiches for lunch, snagging her by the arm and pulling her into one of the spare bedrooms downstairs to kiss her senseless while Nicholas was distracted—and now, she was taking every opportunity to shamelessly flirt with him.

  Here in the house above Hope Falls, there was no pressure. No worries. No stress.

  The rest of the world didn’t exist.

  Just them, having fun.

  Falling in love.

  Completely, undeniably, head-over-heels in love.

  “You don’t get a foot rub for losing on purpose,” he murmured in her ear on his way to man the game for his turn.

  She smiled at him.

  His ears went that adorable pink, and she knew, without a doubt, that he was thinking he’d give her a foot rub simply for the smile. “You’re a softie, Wyatt Owens,” she murmured back.

  She leaned back onto the pool table, which gave her a better view of his backside than of the PacMan screen.

  Nicholas was perched on a stool, intent on the game. Wyatt ruffled his hair, and Nicholas smiled up at him.

  Skye grabbed her camera and snapped a picture of the utter adoration in the boy’s face.

  Nicholas liked Wyatt’s advice. He looked to his uncle for guidance in everything from pool to air hockey to PacMan. He’d pushed himself on the trail to impress Wyatt. He stuck his chest out every time Wyatt gave him a compliment, which was more often than Skye would’ve given him credit for a week ago, but not so often that the compliment wouldn’t seem genuine.

  Not that Wyatt could ever be anything but genuine.

  One day, Wyatt’s own son might stare up at him like that. Her breath caught.

  Move to Georgia. Marry me. Have babies.

  Too fast.

  Entirely too fast.

  But…not.

  She’d taken a week to consider Steven’s proposal last year.

  Yet, she could easily see herself packing a bag and flying to Georgia in three days.

  She did have her job to consider, but so much of what she did for Ryder Consulting could be done from anywhere. And she didn’t know much about Wyatt’s military career, but she could learn.

  She’d never much liked letting mountains stand in her way when she wanted something.

  “Miss Skye, Uncle Wyatt is beating you,” Nicholas whispered.

  “I’ll let him have this one,” she said. “But there’s no way he’ll beat me when I take you two bowling this afternoon.”

  Nicholas squinted through his dirty glasses at her. “My mom told me not to drop another ball on my foot.”

  “You don’t think your Uncle Wyatt will let that happen, do you?”

  That earned her a look from Uncle Wyatt. No, Skye, we don’t take accident-prone nine-year-olds to bowling alleys.

  “They make little balls for kids,” she said.

  “I won’t walk out on the lane again either,” Nicholas said earnestly. “Dad said I was lucky I didn’t break my butt. But I learned my lesson.”

  “See? He learned his lesson,” she said.

  Wyatt’s flat lips didn’t twitch, but his eyes flickered with amusement anyway.

  The man hid his sense of humor well. Warmth swelled in her chest.

  She was learning his secrets. His depths.

  Discovering an entire new world in a man she’d known her whole life.

  “I’ll text your mom to see if she approves,” he said to Nicholas.

  “Can we call her instead?”

  Wyatt checked his watch. “Sure.”

  “You miss your mom and dad?” Skye asked Nicholas while Wyatt dialed his sister.

  “Yeah, I guess.” But his casual tone didn’t hide the way his gaze was intent on Wyatt, eyes wide as though his mom picking up the phone would be even better than having cookies and ice cream for breakfast. Which she had only suggested this morning to see if Wyatt would give her one of those you naughty girl looks.

  And he totally had.

  He’d also given her a playful slap on the butt when Nicholas wasn’t watching, and murmured Shame on you in a sexy voice that had nearly made her panties melt.

  Wyatt ducked his head while he had a quick conversation with his sister before handing the phone off to Nicholas. The boy’s face lit up, and he instantly started talking faster than some of Skye’s girlfriends while he paced the room. He snuck a glance at his uncle, then ducked out the door.

  “That didn’t look good,” Wyatt murmured.

  He stepped behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. She leaned back into him. “He’s a sweet kid. Probably didn’t want us to think he’s not having a good time if he tells her he misses her.”

  “You taste sweet.” He pressed his lips to her neck, and a jolt of electric lust went straight to her belly. His solid arms, his spicy-clean scent, his talented mouth—she wasn’t entirely convinced this wasn’t just a dream.

  A long, unexpected, glorious dream.

  “Come visit me in Georgia?” he said.

  A skitter of nerves snaked down her back. Here in Hope Falls, there was no judgment, no questions, no gossip about what they were doing.

  Did she want to be with him?

  To see where this went?

  Absolutely.

  But they only had two days left here before he had to take Nicholas home and get back to his life.

  And she needed to face going home herself.

  He’d been right.

  The Skye Ryder who had incessantly tagged along with her brother and his friends, the girl who had threatened every one of them more than once over some social injustice, the woman who had learned to navigate which of her friends truly liked her and which simply wanted to be close to her brother and his famous friends—that person wouldn’t be hiding from home.

  She wouldn’t let gossips and a public ex-fiancé keep her from the place she loved.

  She traced the corded muscle in his forearm. “As soon as I can.”

  “Going home?”

  “I emailed my parents this morning to tell them to expect me in the office first thing Monday morning.”

  “Okay with that?”

  She leaned back and kissed his scratchy cheek. “I am.”

  He smiled. “Good.”

  She’d leave home again soon enough.

  But she was coming to realize just how lucky she was to have two places to call home now. One geographical, and one with the man stealing her heart.

  * * *

  Only Nicholas.

  Amelia would probably never let him watch the kid again, but still, Wyatt struggled to keep his face straight while he shook hands with Chief Maguire from the fire department. “Thanks again.”

  “You had it under control,” the chief said.

  Skye was on her knees beside Nicholas at the snack bar table, inspecting his bandaged thumb.

  And probably still apologizing for suggesting bowling.

&nb
sp; Which was the only part of this that wasn’t funny.

  “This happen often?” he asked Chief Maguire.

  “Kid getting his thumb stuck in a bowling ball?” The chief flashed a grin. “Can’t say that it does.”

  He swallowed another smile.

  “Enjoy the rest of your time in Hope Falls,” the chief added.

  Wyatt patted his nephew on the back. “How about some dinner?”

  “Can I get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

  “Anything you want, kiddo.” He held out a hand to Skye. “You too.”

  She took his hand for help up, but dropped it as soon as she was standing, not looking at him. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  He tucked each of them under his arms and steered them toward the door. “Only thing you need to be sorry for is for saying sorry too much. Everyone’s fine. Right, Nicholas?”

  “I’m going to have the best summer stories ever,” he said.

  Skye shifted an uneasy glance at Nicholas, then up to him.

  She was quiet the whole walk down the wooden sidewalk to Sue Ann’s Café.

  His stomach rolled. “This wasn’t your fault,” he murmured to her.

  “I put a sweet kid in a position to get hurt. After everything else he went through this week, I should’ve known better.”

  “It was a freak accident. Not your fault.”

  Her rosy lips settled in a grim line.

  He pinched his own lips shut.

  Because if there was anything he knew about Skye, he knew she liked to take care of things herself. She’d work this out, but she needed space to do it.

  She seemed to relax as they ate in the comfortable, happy café. Sue Ann fussed over Nicholas, as did Amanda and Justin, the owners of Mountain Ridge Outdoor Adventures who had been so helpful this week, when they stopped in for a bite to eat too. And he didn’t miss the sly look Amanda slid Skye’s way. “Are you enjoying your week too?”

  Skye’s cheeks went pink, but her eyes lit up. “It’s been fantastic.”

  Amanda glanced at him, then winked at Skye. “Good.”

  The two women did a bit more silent communication that ended with Skye laughing and ducking her head.

  “Come back to visit us again sometime, okay?” Amanda smiled a bright, cheerful smile. “Next time, Nicholas, we’ll have a better plan.”

  “You were fantastic,” Wyatt told her honestly.

  “That horse was really big, but I could probably do a smaller horse,” Nicholas said. “Next time. Do horses have seat belts? My mom says that might help too.”

  “And a helmet,” Wyatt said. “And bubble wrap. And bug repellent.”

  Nicholas giggled.

  Wyatt tousled his hair. He might not be much of an outdoor kid, but he was smart and kind and he had a good heart.

  And he was happy.

  That was what mattered.

  They finished eating and packed up. Sue Ann insisted on giving Nicholas a milkshake for the road, and she wished them all the best as their week drew to an end. “Come back and see us again!” she called while they made their way out the door.

  Skye was quiet again on the ride back to the house. Wyatt squeezed her thigh, and she gripped his hand tight.

  “You okay?” he asked softly.

  She glanced in the backseat. He checked the rearview mirror. Nicholas was slurping on his milkshake, bent over Wyatt’s phone. Probably not the wisest choice to risk motion sickness, which the boy probably suffered from too, but it meant he wasn’t paying attention to the front seat.

  “Thank you for letting me crash your week,” she said.

  Alarm bells went off in his head. He brushed his thumb over the firm muscle of her thigh. “I was glad you were here. Wasn’t sure I could handle this week when we got here either.”

  “Oh, please. You can do anything.”

  “I couldn’t tell you how much I liked you.”

  “I never gave you a chance.”

  “I never gave you a reason to.”

  She stroked his forearm, her fingers feather-light against his skin, but he felt her touch spark his soul.

  So easy. So comfortable. So natural.

  Her fingers swept up to his bicep. His pants were getting extremely uncomfortable.

  “Have you thought about what we’re going to tell our families?” she whispered.

  “Me caveman, woman mine?” he suggested.

  Her burst of laughter was like sunshine hitting a diamond at the perfect angle to explode rainbows all over his soul.

  He squeezed her thigh again. “We’ll tell them you’re coming to visit me in Georgia, and let them fill in the blanks.”

  “I don’t want to come between you and Beck and the rest of the guys.”

  Her tone was serious enough that he glanced sideways at her. “You’re worried what they’ll think.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “I’ve wasted enough time worrying what people think of me. But you—if Beck tries any of that don’t mess with my sister stuff, things could get…awkward. And I don’t want that. For you.”

  “You don’t think Beck will approve?”

  “No! I mean, no, it’s not that I don’t think he’ll approve, but what happens if we have a fight? Or if…”

  Or if she got tired of him.

  If what had happened here in Hope Falls was supposed to stay in Hope Falls, and out in the real world, they didn’t make it?

  Dread slithered across his bones. “We’ve got another few days,” he said with a confidence he suddenly didn’t feel. “We’ll work it out.”

  “Thank you for being patient with me,” she whispered.

  “Always, Skye. Always.”

  * * *

  Skye’s body was humming when Wyatt turned the car into the driveway. She wanted to take him inside, pull him down the stairs to her room, and kiss him, touch him, love him all afternoon.

  With Nicholas still awake, she knew it was impossible for another couple of hours, but she was almost as happy with the idea of spending the evening in the game room with her two favorite men.

  And her guilt over Nicholas’s injury was fading too. Wyatt had insisted that the Band-Aid on Nicholas’s thumb was because kids like bandages, not because his thumb was hurt. The firemen and Wyatt and Nicholas had all said he was fine—no swelling, good range of motion, not even a scratch. Wyatt had greased Nicholas’s thumb up and had it nearly out of the ball before the fire department arrived.

  Because that was what Wyatt did.

  He took care of things. He studied, he learned, he acted.

  And he wanted to study her.

  To learn her.

  To be with her.

  She was a little worried about how Beck would react to the idea of them dating. She knew she was being silly, but she couldn’t help it.

  Because the idea of Wyatt claiming her by grunting out a caveman oath was actually appealing.

  Unfortunately, that picture in her mind was always followed by Beck flattening Wyatt with a right hook to the nose.

  And she liked his nose. It was straight, not too long, not too short, but with just enough character in the curve of it to be the most fascinating nose she’d ever seen.

  Yep.

  She had it bad.

  She squeezed his hand again. “My bedroom or yours tonight?” she whispered.

  “Both.”

  An intrigued shiver made her sit straighter.

  But the sight of a red sports car in the driveway made her freeze.

  Wyatt put his SUV in park and tilted a glance at her. “Did Beck triple-book his house?”

  “No… That is Beck.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Skye had liked the idea of another few days of having Wyatt to herself before they announced their togetherness to the world, but seeing Beck’s car in the driveway actually dissipated her fears.

  Beck loved Wyatt.

  Beck loved her.

  This would be fine.

  The front door burst open, and ther
e he was.

  Her big brother.

  Beck’s goofball grin showed off the Hollywood-white teeth against his dark stubble. “Wyatt, my man.”

  While she helped Nicholas out of the car, Beck lifted a hand, then slapped Wyatt’s and pulled him in for a one-armed man-hug. Her brother was taller, and they were both in good shape, but Wyatt was a brick.

  See?

  No reason to worry about fists.

  “Gotta get home more often,” Beck said.

  Wyatt thumped him on the back. “Only if you promise to keep your clothes on.”

  Beck let go of Wyatt and grabbed Skye, smothering her against his crisp designer shirt. Despite his fame, despite his money, despite his harder, leaner body, he was still Beck, still smelling like ivory soap and still happy to rub his knuckles into her scalp. “Hey, brat.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” She pinched him just above his elbow. He laughed and let her go.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked as she passed him on her way into the house.

  “Taking you home.” He bent and held out a fist to Nicholas. “Hey, bud. You having fun?”

  Nicholas nodded and bumped his fist against Beck’s.

  “Not trying anything with my sister, are you, man?” Beck added.

  Nicholas blushed. “She’s pretty, but she’s a little old for me.”

  Beck hooted and clapped him on the back. “Good man.”

  “Can you sing ‘American Sweetheart’?” Nicholas said. “It’s my mom’s favorite song.”

  “He was just a backup singer.” Wyatt had that straight-laced expression again, but she knew he was laughing on the inside. “Trust me, we don’t want to hear that.”

  Her brother simply grinned. “Hope you’re keeping your hands off my sister too, jack—”

  “Language, Mr. Beck,” Skye interrupted. She glanced at Wyatt and sucked in a big breath. “And, actually—”

  “You should get rid of all of those cut-outs of yourself here,” he interrupted. “You know the people who come here don’t really want to see that.”

  “Most of ’em want to take one or two home,” Beck replied with a wink.

  Skye blinked at Wyatt.

  He’d gone stone-faced. Not mad stone-faced, but impossible to read stone-faced.

  Needles poked at her heart.

  He did still want her…didn’t he?