Meant To Be Different

by Amelia Foster

  Wyatt chuckled slightly and the cutest damn blush spread across her cheeks. He held her hips for a few beats until he was fairly confident she was steady on her feet. “Yeah, I packed a few things.”

  He strode over to where Jake stood patiently waiting, and he dug in the saddlebag for the blanket and food.

  “I’ll take that.” Gigi took the thick woolen blanket from his arms and crossed a few feet to spread it out over the lush green grass.

  He pulled the two water bottles out and slapped the leather flap of the bag closed. He needed to focus on the ranch. On her business partnership. On making sure she understood she was a hell of a lot more than “another convenient, willing, warm body.” That stung. And managed to amplify his guilt, something he once thought impossible. Hell, the whole reason he’d been drinking so hard the night he got his first tattoo was to try to erase her memory and the pain of leaving her. Even if he’d done it for what he thought were all the right reasons.

  He had to be able to prove to her that he didn’t come back just to start the training camp, and he didn’t just want her brilliant business brain. He came back for her. Every part of Gigi was ingrained in his memory and taunted the corners of his psyche for far too long.

  And he really needed to figure out what the hell caused that look in her eyes every time they got too close to what they had once been. If it was him, well…he had three brothers who would be all too willing to kick his ass just for the hell of it.

  His forehead fell against the flank of the horse, bumping the brim of his hat. Of all the people on this planet who could possibly be so intrinsically linked to his future success…it had to be Gigi. Mad, pissy, hurt Gigi.

  He had to pull it together. Wyatt straightened and sucked in a deep breath before turning around and crossing the few feet to where Gigi sat on the blanket. He dropped down beside her, emptying the contents of his arms.

  She opened the containers of cubed cheese, meat, and fruit. She tore a hunk off the loaf of bread and handed it to him. “Nice spread, Cowboy.”

  Wyatt searched his brain for something to say. Something neutral. Something safe. He stuffed more food in his mouth in an effort to prevent himself from saying exactly the wrong thing. That was his usual M.O.

  “You were right.” Her words were soft, her gaze fixed beyond him.

  “What?” He shook his head, certain he’d heard her wrong.

  Gigi’s eyes held his captive. She waved her hand, encompassing the valley spread out before them. “This is so much better than your business proposal. It’s everything you ever wanted when…” Her chin dipped and she popped a grape in her mouth. “Although the plan you sent me really was impressive. Ya know, for a stupid freaking cowboy.”

  The mozzarella and prosciutto lodged in his throat. His chest tingled at the mischief twinkling in her hazel depths as he coughed out the offending food. He reached over and ran his fingers down her side. She dissolved into giggles. Wyatt arched a single brow. “This stupid freaking cowboy still remembers where his Dark Angel is ticklish.”

  Her mouth fell open and she jumped to her feet, racing back to the waiting steed and hopping on his back. “You can only tickle me if you can catch me.”

  With that she dug her heels into Jake’s side and took off for the barn. Her laughter floated back to him as she rode away.

  Wyatt threw the discarded blanket over his waiting horse and quickly climbed into the saddle. He urged the beast to go faster until he got to the barn. And a waiting, solitary Jake with no Gigi in sight. He leapt off the horse’s back before it had even stopped.

  As soon as he walked through the wide doors of the barn a hand reached out from the left side and grabbed the front of his shirt, pushing him against the wall. Before he could speak, Gigi’s mouth was on his.

  She released her hold on the material, moving both hands beneath his shirt, her fingers dancing across muscles that immediately tightened in response to her touch. He groaned beneath her lips. He fisted the length of her hair, tilting her head and deepening the kiss, never wanting the moment to end.

  That was until Gigi pushed against him and broke away. A single tear streaked down her cheek. “Why did you lie to me?”

  Wyatt had known for twelve years that any hope of a future with Gigi would involve answering that question, but he hadn’t prepared himself for the hoarse tone in her voice or the downturn of her lips. He hadn’t been sure that she would still care so much. He had always hoped but never quite believed.

  It was equally heartbreaking and encouraging.

  His hand slid around the back of her neck. “I didn’t lie, Angel. I wanted you with me.”

  “Then why did you leave? If you wanted me, why the hell did you leave?” She turned away and wrapped her arms around herself. “I went to your house and I stood on your doorstep like a freaking idiot crying because you bailed.” When she faced him again, two large wet paths ran down her face.

  In that moment, Wyatt was certain his heart had stopped beating. “Because of your dad.”

  Gigi swiped her fingers beneath her eyes and shook her head. “Not possible. My dad loved you. He was thrilled when I started dating such a ‘fine young man.’ Hell, he still talks about you even now. Even knowing…”

  Even knowing I broke his daughter’s heart, he finished for her silently. Wyatt lifted his hat for a moment, ran his fingers through his hair, and set it back in place. “Do you remember the day before I left?”

  She dropped her gaze to the ground. Then the wall to the left. Then the one on the right. “Yeah,” she mumbled.

  Oh hell no, she wasn’t getting out of hearing this—all of this—without making eye contact. He strode over to her, holding her cheek in one hand, forcing her to look at him. The fingers of his other hand dug into her hip. Just in case she had any thought of leaving.

  “We were at your grandparents’ house. In the backyard with those two ridiculous mutts you decided to rescue.”

  She smacked him on the chest. “They were not ridiculous mutts. Roscoe and Roxy were the best pets ever.” Her declaration was met with a huff and foot stomp from just beyond the barn door. She leaned around Wyatt. “Obviously I wasn’t including you in that list, Jake. You aren’t just an average pet.”

  Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Would you stop feeding that beast’s already oversized ego and pay attention?”

  In spite of the lingering sadness tinging her features, the corners of her mouth quirked up into a grin. “Sorry, Cowboy. Didn’t realize you’d get jealous of a horse.”

  He dropped his forehead against hers. “I overheard your dad that day.” Wyatt took a deep breath. “He was talking to your grandparents and telling them that…after losing your mom…he didn’t know what he’d do without you. You were the center of his world. I couldn’t take you away after that. I couldn’t do that to him.”

  She made a choking sound and held a tight grip on his shirt. “That’s why you left?” She slapped his shoulder once. Then twice. “Didn’t you think to talk to me? Didn’t you think I could make that decision myself?”

  Wyatt pushed her away slightly, tightly gripping each side of her face. “I didn’t want to leave you with that. You didn’t deserve that burden. I made the choice. And I screwed it up, but it was my mistake. Not yours. You never had to sit in some dingy hotel room waiting for me to get back from a competition wondering what the hell you’d done with your life. Angel, I took myself out of the equation so you didn’t have to decide.”

  Silence swarmed, the air around them thickened with the desire that was always present as well as the heavy reality of what had driven him to do the hardest thing in his life: break his own heart to spare his Angel. She would have chosen him. He knew that. Her passion and devotion were too strong for any other option.

  Gigi deserved—had always deserved—so much better than the little he could have offered her in the early days of his career.

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “I wanted to hate you. Hell, sometimes I stil
l want to hate you. I just…never could.” Her hands grabbed the back of his neck, her mouth settling into a firm line.

  Before he had a chance to ask the thousands of questions floating through his mind, her lips melded to his. Softer. Caressing him with their touch. The tip of her tongue reached out and licked his bottom lip. Wyatt’s knees were seconds from giving out just as she released him.

  “Does this mean you’ll give me a second chance?” The only one he could voice was the only one that mattered in this moment.

  Panic flashed in her eyes for a moment. She erased it with a shake of her head, arched an eyebrow, and dug in her back pocket. “Flip ya for it?”

  Wyatt eyed the coin she held between her index and middle finger. “Same stakes as the first time?”

  Her saucy grin faded. “Close. Girlfriend is off the table.”

  Wyatt measured his breaths just as carefully as his words. “Not right away, but—”

  She shook her head. “A lot has happened since you bailed, and I have a hell of a lot on my plate. I don’t have time for the Rhinestone Cowboy to saunter into my life, play the role of sexy hero, and then bail because it isn’t working for him anymore.” She snaked an arm around his waist. “But I can’t deny that the same chemistry that drove me crazy in high school is still here. And I can’t deny that I wondered more often than I’d like to admit if we’d be just as good at sex as we were in every other way.”

  The damned shadows were back in her eyes, and this time he was certain they weren’t caused by him. He’d fight this or any other battle it took to get Gigi back, but he knew her well enough to know this wasn’t the time. She never would talk to him about what was bothering her until she was good and ready.

  She wanted him at least. And she admitted she didn’t hate him. That was a starting point. A pretty damn pathetic one, but a place to work from nonetheless. “So what are you proposing?”

  A painfully slow blink was her only response as several seconds ticked by. “Heads, you help me christen my bed. Tails—”

  “You help me with mine.” He winked when she narrowed her eyes at him.

  Gigi flipped the coin in the air, caught it, slapped it on the back of her hand, covering it with the other for a few seconds before revealing the result. “Looks like you win, Cowboy.”

  ***

  Georgia

  Rich, dark soil filtered through Georgia’s gloved hands, and the relaxation that overtook her body from the simple task of working in her father’s garden never ceased to surprise her. She pressed the dirt firmly around the last clump of geraniums just as her father trotted out the back door.

  “So what’s bothering you?” Barry Marsh offered the question and the glass of iced tea in one fluid motion.

  Georgia removed her gloves, swiped a forearm across her sweaty brow, and took a long draw of the cold beverage. “Who says anything is wrong? I work on the yard every Saturday.”

  Her father settled into one of the chairs surrounding the stone fire pit, currently sitting dormant in the hot afternoon sun. “You do and I love that you moved back for a whole host of reasons, the fact you’ve taken the gardening duties off my plate being high on the list. But you don’t show up with a trunk full of flowers and start attacking the ground unless you’re dealing with something.” He waved a hand to the line of fruit trees dotting the back edge of the small property. “Need I remind you that those happened right after you came home?”

  Acrid fluid scorched the back of Georgia’s throat as she remembered the anger and tears that she took out on the innocent dirt. Often she daydreamed she was spearing the pointed shovel through the empty cavity that was supposed to house Bruce’s heart as she dug the holes. “No. You definitely don’t.” She flashed a mostly genuine grin and fell into the seat beside him. “But at least you got peaches out of that deal.”

  Barry laughed, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. “Yeah, and your grandmother has done an excellent job putting every one of them to use.” His jovial smile faltered. “Well, she did.”

  The quiet reminder sent them both into a saddened silence. Innocent comments sometimes carried the starkest reality.

  “Wyatt’s back.” The words were barely above a whisper, but she knew he wouldn’t miss a syllable.

  A small “hrm” from her father broke the silence momentarily before it enveloped them again. Only the rattling of the ice against the crystal pierced the air.

  “No comment?” The question nearly exploded from her in desperation. Barry had always been a source of wisdom, insight, and guidance for her. Even more so after they lost her mother. More than anything she needed him to talk some sense into her and tell her to run as far and as fast from the cowboy as possible.

  Especially considering the fact her best friend seemed determined to talk her into falling into bed with Wyatt. So much for loyalty.

  “That boy loved you, pumpkin.” Her father’s gaze was fixed on something far in the distance as he spoke. “You were young, but he loved you in a way I can’t imagine ever stopped.”

  She pushed against her knees as she rose with a snort. “His love didn’t have to go away. He did. He disappeared without a call or a note or an explanation and even though it might make sense now—”

  “Might?” Dark brows rose to nearly meet his thinning gray hair line.

  Georgia sighed, pacing along the brick circle her father had built. “It does. He was eighteen and stupid, but his heart was in the right place. I guess.” She popped a fist onto her hip. “Just because I maybe can kind of understand it doesn’t mean I have to fall all over him.”

  A deep chuckle met her begrudging admission. “I wouldn’t expect you to. You never did make things easy for him. That boy had an uphill battle for you from day one.” He held up a hand, palm out. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m proud of you for being feisty and strong-willed and stubborn as a mule, and I am damn sure proud of where it led you. Not many people could juggle the things you do.”

  Offering support to her father and grandparents as they tended to her mother’s decline had felt like the hardest thing in the world at the time. But being half of the primary caregiving team for her grandmother was equal, if not slightly worse. The steady mental decline of the woman who had once been vivacious and sharp took another piece of Georgia’s soul each day.

  Even so, there was no place she’d rather be.

  Oblivious to the conflicting emotions cascading through her, Barry tilted his head and continued. “The fact that even at sixteen he was willing to bend over backwards to be with you…doesn’t that tell you anything?”

  In spite of the weight of the conversation, a grin tickled the corners of her mouth. She’d always loved sparring with Wyatt. It was one of the best parts of them. She couldn’t deny that the same tenacity he showed in the arena served him well within their relationship.

  Her heart ached through another beat and the cold reality stole her flash of happiness at the memories she still cherished. “I told you, I’m not into the relationship thing. Wyatt and Bruce did a damn good job of handling that particular desire.” She resumed her seat beside her father, leaning her head back against the slatted wood of the deck chair. Warm fingers encircled her hand. “I am not going to tempt that particular beast. At least not while Gram…” An errant tear trailed down her face at the suggestion of her grandmother’s decline.

  Barry stood, kissed her forehead, and silently headed into the house. At the sliding glass door, he paused. “You can do anything you put your mind to, but only you can decide what’s most important here.”

  The whoosh of the panel closing behind him punctuated his exit. Unspoken, but always understood, was that she would have his unfailing support and confidence. If only she trusted herself as much as he did. As much as she used to.

  Chapter Ten

  Wyatt

  Thirteen Years Earlier

  The rain was pounding against the windshield so hard Wyatt could barely see the road eve
n with the wipers on the highest speed. But one thing he could spot easily was the figure clothed in black, head bent against the heavy onslaught of water.

  “What the hell?” Wyatt threw the question out to the empty cab of his truck before pulling along the curb. He jumped out and rounded the hood, the rain pouring down his back as it ran off his hat.

  He stepped in front of Gigi just in time for her to smack right into him. “Oh, I’m so…Wyatt?” She squinted at him from beneath the hood of her black sweatshirt. “What are you doing here?”

  Wyatt shook his head and grabbed her upper arms. “What am I doing here? The better question, Angel, is what the hell are you doing here? You’re drenched. And shivering. Get your fine little ass up in that truck. Now.”

  Her brows shot up, and she popped a hand onto her hip. “Are you ordering me?”

  He clenched his jaw tightly. “Normally I love your smartass little mouth and stubborn personality, but you need to actually listen and get in my truck.”

  She pressed her matte black lips into a thin line and shot daggers out of her hazel eyes. Finally the fight drained from her shoulders when her teeth began to chatter. “Fine.”

  Wyatt opened the passenger door for her before running around the front of the truck to get behind the wheel. He started the engine and kicked the heat on high but didn’t make a move to drive. “All right, Gigi, would you like to explain to me why the hell you were out there walking in the pouring rain? Are you hoping to catch pneumonia? ’Cause I hate to break it to ya, I don’t like hospitals, and I sure as hell don’t want to visit you in one.”

  “Let’s get one thing clear here, Cowboy. I don’t need to explain myself to you. Just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean I need to check in with you before I make a move.” She folded her arms across her chest and huffed.

  He tried to stay mad at her, but she was too damn cute. “I think it’s pretty damn sexy when you call me ‘Cowboy’ like that, Angel.”