Say You Want Me (17 page)

“I need to know things. I need to know it’s really me. Not Presley or the baby.
Me
. The real me.”

I don’t want to fall in love to find out that it’s all a lie.

Wyatt’s hands slide up and cup my face. “It is you, Angie.”

“I want to believe you.”

His face dips, and he rubs his nose against mine. “Believe it. I can’t explain it, but there’s something about you. You’re what I want.”

I close my eyes, tip up on my toes, and press my lips against his. This kiss isn’t about anyone else. This is about us.

Wyatt

M
Y BODY GOES STILL WHEN
her lips touch mine. I’ll let her lead this one because of her stupid rules. But then her fingers hold the back of my head, and I take over. My lips fuse against hers as I seek entrance into her mouth. I need to kiss her. I need to possess her in the same way she possesses me. I want her to feel that. Feel every emotion that I am.

She’s everything I ever prayed for in my arms. I tried to explain to my brother, but he laughed. Zach said it’s when you know. The first time he laid eyes on Presley, he knew. With Angie, it’s as if my life didn’t really make sense until her.

Touching her, holding her, talking to her, just being around her makes my entire day. She’s got some kind of hold on me. And it’s fucking scary.

I thought I loved Presley.

I thought I knew what it was like to want someone so much that I’d go insane without them. This is completely different.

Not that I don’t think I loved Presley, because I did. Now I see it for what it was, though. I loved the idea of what she and Zach had. Presley is my best friend, but Angie . . . she’s the girl I breathe for.

I hold her in my arms as my mouth stays secured to her. I want to love her the way I should’ve when we conceived our baby. I want to show her what it’s like to be worshiped, because that’s what she deserves. This isn’t like the night at the bakery. This isn’t a cease fire like she called it . . . this is the final fight.

Her fingers hold my head to hers, and I pull her into my arms, and she wraps her legs around my waist. We kiss as I walk with her until I have her back pressed between my body and the rough bark of the tree. I need the leverage and she doesn’t seem to care. It’s as if we’ve both finally given in and neither of us want to waste a second.

I need to stop this. I need to take her home. “Angel.” I finally break away.

“Don’t stop,” she begs as she presses her lips back on mine.

Fine. If she wants to keep going, who am I to deny her? I’ll kiss her forever. The taste of her sugar lips are heaven. I remember how sweet everything else tastes, too. It’s a flavor I plan to reacquaint myself with very soon.

By sheer determination, I’ve managed to control myself each night. I’ve had to jerk off in the bathroom each morning, but I’ve handled it. Waking up with her body wrapped around mine is torture, but it’s not just that. It’s the little noises she makes in her sleep. All night long she clutches me and moans and sighs. I almost ripped her clothes off three nights ago, even though I promised I would wait her out. Her voice was so needy. Then she started moving against me, her hand snaking down my body until I stopped her. There was no way I could let her touch me like that and not set her rules on fire. As it is right now, I’m going to implode if I don’t have her soon.

Right now all I can do is drink her in. Her body molds to mine, and I think about how many other ways we fit.

I slowly back away from the trunk of the tree, and our lips disconnect. When her legs loosen from my waist, I debate stopping. I like having her clinging to me. I’ll like it even better when she’s naked again.

“I’m sorry I jumped you.” She looks away.

“Don’t ever be sorry for that.”

Her blue eyes brighten as her smile forms. “So much for our rules.”

I chuckle. “I’m hopin’ you’re throwing all your rules out.”

“I think we should renegotiate.” It’s an offer, but I see the white flag she’s waving. “Not all of them need to go.”

I plan to take full advantage of this opening. She’s stubborn as all hell and for her to concede anything at all is a miracle.

My hand reaches out and pushes the hair back from her face. “Angie,” I call her attention. “You thought somethin’ happened back there, but it didn’t. I won’t betray you. I know what it means for you to come here.” I pause, making sure she’s listening. “But there’s a bunch of shit you said that I think we need to clear up.”

She nods.

“I’m not in love with Presley. I haven’t been for a long time. She’s got nothing to do with us.” I want her to hear that and hear it good. It’s the second time she’s brought that up. “I never dated her. I’ve never done anything with her. She’s always been my brother’s girl. Not that I didn’t love her, because I did, but I loved her enough to let her go. And when I let her go, I let go of anything more than friendship.”

“Wyatt.” She places her hand on my chest. “I saw it, and I freaked. I’m dealing with a crazy amount of doubts and fears. Presley told me a while ago that you and Char—”

“Damn it,” I snap, knowing exactly what she’s scared of and what Presley may have said about me. I thought we had already covered this her first night here, but apparently she’s still worried about it. “You need to hear what I’m saying and really understand it.”

“Okay.” She sighs.

I don’t care if she doesn’t want to listen to it. Not because I want to hurt her, but because she has to know without a shadow of a doubt the truth. The only person who can give her that—is me. Lord only knows what the hell Presley told her or what she’s twisted in her own mind. It’s better to set the record straight now so this can get put behind us.

No need to rehash the same shit.

“I’m an honest man. I live a simple life, and I’ve done it without givin’ a shit about what anyone thinks. I have never led a girl to think there was more than whatever I was offering. I’ve never brought them to my house. I’ve never taken them on dates.” I raise my brow to make my point. “I sure as shit have never moved one in. Take that for what you want, but you’re different. I think you feel it, too.”

She doesn’t say anything as she stands with her small hand pressed against the bare skin of my chest, probably feeling my heart rate going out of control. I refuse to tear my eyes from hers. I want her to see the truth behind my words. I’m not hiding anything. It’s all out there, and all I can do is hope she feels a little of the same.

“I—” I watch as the storms roll through her gaze. I can see how it scares her. Then I see resolution. “I like you so much more than I should. It’s different for me, too. I’ve been happy being alone. I’ve had my job, my friends, my brother, and I’m a pretty kick-ass aunt. There’s never been this desire to be a mother or a wife. While my friends were getting married and starting families, I was living the life I wanted. They didn’t agree or understand me, but I like dating. I like freedom. I like to take care of myself.”

There’s nothing that she said that I don’t understand. But it’s in my nature, my damn DNA, to want to take care of her. And that’s going to be a fight. One that I’m willing to go toe to toe against her over, just not today. A woman should be respected and cared for. A man should ensure that it’s done. I’ve watched my father do everything for his family, and I’ll do nothing less than that for mine.

I’ll give her everything.

Angie continues, “I’m now finding out how to be someone else. Someone who suddenly likes curling up on the couch and watching
Big Brother
with you. That’s not me. I don’t like cuddling and lunch dates. I like space. But then I like you, and you don’t like space. It’s confusing, but I know that I want to be near you.”

I don’t let her say another word. I dip my lips to hers for a brief kiss. If it’s any longer I’ll rip her clothes off in the middle of a dirt path.

“Let’s go home.”

That’s what I want her to think of this as. I dread the argument about her going home in two months. Then again, I don’t plan for that to be an issue. She’s going to want to stay here after I show her all the reasons we’re right for each other.

Angie

T
HE ONE THING I ENJOY
most about dating is the pre-date. There’s that nervous energy that fills me every time. I’ve scrubbed, buffed, moisturized, shaved, and plucked every inch of my body. I want this night to be amazing.

Wyatt should be home in an hour, and I want to be ready for whatever he has planned, which he has refused to even give me hints about. I know he’ll need to shower, but I won’t have to do it side by side. It seems more date like this way.

I scour through my clothes, unable to find anything that I’m looking for. It seems I didn’t put my stuff away as well as I thought.

Or maybe I didn’t bring my “date” outfits because I didn’t plan on dating anyone.

I grab my phone to see what time he thinks he’ll be home and see I have a message.

Wyatt: Go to Presley’s house. I’ll pick you up there at seven.

Umm, that’s weird. Why the hell would I go there? Are we going on a double date?

Me: Why?

Wyatt: Because I said so, woman.

I let that slide for now. But later, after I find out what he has up his sleeve, I’m going to make sure he hears all about him bossing me around. That shit won’t fly here.

Me: I’m already dressed. It makes no sense.

Wyatt: Since you must know . . . I want to pick you up. I want to drive to a house, knock on the door, have you take your sweet ass time answering, and take you out. So get your butt to Presley’s and wait.

My God.

There’s only one response that I can say to him.

My fingers type across the screen.

Me: You trying to get laid tonight?

Wyatt: You’ve made me wait long enough.

I laugh. He’s been patient, but this has been hell on me. I swear, pregnancy messes with every part of you.

Me: Maybe tonight you’ll get lucky in more than one way.

I toss my phone in my purse, deciding I don’t want to see if he responds. It’s so much more fun this way. I grab my sweater and look myself over in the mirror. Instead of wearing a dress, I opted for jeans, since they still fit, and a really cute olive green top. I curled my hair so it hangs down my back in soft waves. I dress it up with a pair of heels and one of my favorite chunky necklaces. Without knowing where we’re going, this is the best outfit I could muster.

On the ride over to Presley’s, I call Erin and go over the details of the building she found. She emailed me yesterday, but I didn’t know what to say. The longer I’m here . . . the less confident I am about my being able to actually leave. Therefore, I’ve put off making any decisions regarding the expansion.

“Angie, we need to move fast. We can’t drag our feet.” Erin releases an exasperated sigh. “I have to make an offer.”

“I’m not sold.” It’s not a lie, but I also know it’s a pretty phenomenal space. It’s almost double what we have now in Media and has an area we could use for some tables, which our store doesn’t have now.

Erin doesn’t say anything. I wait her out, knowing that she’s one who has to think things through. It’s one of the reasons I brought her on. She’s extremely business savvy and always leads with her mind, never her heart, other than with the men she dates. I can tend to be a little more impulsive.

She clears her throat. “I understand you’re going through a life changing event. I’m trying to be really understanding.”

“You have been—”

“Right,” she interrupts me. “You’re my partner, though. I invested a lot of money into this company. We’ve had some huge opportunities, and I think we have to capitalize on them. Now, I see it can go two ways.” This isn’t going to be good. “You can give me the control of this project and allow me to do what I feel is right, or we table this whole thing.”

Now, I have to be the owner. Yes, we’re partners, but I’m the owner and founder. I put the car in park as I arrive at Presley and Zach’s. “I’m well aware of the position we’re in. However, I told you I needed three months. We agreed, Erin. I’ll keep doing what I can from here, but I’m not going to sign off on a location that I’ve never seen. It’s unfair to do this to me when I’ve been gone just under a month.”