Coming Home (24 page)

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Authors: Leslie Kelly

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: Coming Home
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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.

"I wonder if Justin is ready for his dance with the maid of honor,” said Wyatt, a wry grin tugging at his sexy mouth. “He's been practicing so much, he'll be crushed if he steps on Simone's toes."

"I hope he won't be too crushed. Maria tells me Simone brought a date," Nicole replied with a frown.

"At least it's not Brady!" Wyatt muttered.

Nicole nodded vehemently. She had been just as relieved as Wyatt that Brady had decided to leave the ranch once Wyatt and Nicole were married, finally allowing Wyatt to buy him out. They hadn't seen him in months. Thankfully, once he had left, Simone had quickly gotten over her heartbreak, moved in with Maria and Josh and returned to school. Justin was the only one not too pleased with that arrangement.

"You know, I used to think Simone had a crush on you."

Wyatt chuckled. "Wouldn't have mattered if she did. I haven't been available since I was nineteen years old and lost my heart to a brown-eyed girl sitting on a fence.”

She melted a little inside. Wyatt always managed to say exactly the right thing, making her feel more loved every single day of her life.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I’m never going to stop showing you how much.”

“I’d die if you did.”

Their hands entwined and squeezed. Falling silent, they watched as most of the congregation followed the newly married couple out of the church. Within a few moments, all the pews were empty, except the front one where Wyatt and Nicole remained.

"I guess I'll just have to let Justin be the Clayton heartbreaker from now on," he said with a self-satisfied smirk. "And the girls had better watch out."

She couldn’t help teasing him, knowing he was still thinking only as Justin’s father. "You look happy about that," she retorted. "Don't tell me you approve of boys who go around breaking girls' hearts?"

Wyatt started to toss off a reply, then caught Nicole's pointed downward glance. Looking horrified, he bent down, muttering, "Never. Not in a million years."

Nicole laughed out loud as Wyatt hunched protectively over the baby seat in the pew. He woke Jessica up as he slid the protective straps off her tiny body and lifted her against his chest. The baby didn't even make a sound of protest as she curled into her father's embrace.

"You've spoiled her already." Nicole chuckled. "Nine days old and she's got her daddy wrapped around her little finger."

Wyatt nodded, completely happy at his fate. "And her big brother, too. Heartbreaking boys had better steer clear."

Nicole brushed a fine curl from Jessica's brow, caught the baby's green-eyed stare and winked at her. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Mommy's going to teach you all you need to know about ending up with the right man."

Careful of the baby in his arms, Wyatt drew Nicole forward and pressed a sweet kiss on her lips. "I love you, Nicole. Thanks for the anniversary present."

“You’re welcome,” she told him with a smile. "Just don't expect the same thing every year.”

******

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