He stood, and the dogs did with him, nervous glances from the canines darting between them before they both wisely loped away.
“I didn’t give your mom cancer. I didn’t tell her to stop her treatments. I didn’t move you here, even though I am damn glad you did because I can’t imagine my life without you.” His voice rose with every sentence. He put his hands on his hips and paused, taking a deep breath. “How exactly is this my fault?”
Georgia’s eyes narrowed into slits. “I wasn’t here because of you. If your Rhinestone Cowboy persona hadn’t taken over and forced your lifestyle on me, I would have been here. I would have held her hand and told her I loved her and had five freaking more minutes with her.”
His shoulders dropped, and his head hung down. The ache Georgia had been certain couldn’t get any worse after her father called amplified to an impossible degree as her words hit him with the force she’d intended.
But once they started coming out, she couldn’t stop them. “You needed fresh meat to fawn all over you at your practice. You needed a new pet project, so you insisted I come to your house so you could teach me to ride.” Her finger collided with his solid pec, punctuating each damning statement. “You took over every aspect of my life and disguised it as care and concern for my wellbeing when it was really all about you growing your fan club, wasn’t it?”
His jaw clenched and unclenched several times in rapid succession, but he remained silent, not even breathing a refute to her accusations.
“Why don’t you just do all of us a favor and get the hell away from my house and out of my life?”
She sprinted through the sliding glass door, past the table overflowing with casserole dishes and baked goods, and didn’t stop until she was safely barricaded in her room. Only then did the vicious, cruel words register. Only then did she cover her mouth, appalled at what she’d said. Only then did she allow herself to hate the person she’d just been to the boy who had seen past her prickly exterior to identify her need and attempt to meet it.
And she’d just exiled him from her life.
Two losses within a few days, one completely and wholly on her.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Wyatt
Present Day
The bright summer sun reflected off the hood of his truck, nearly blinding him even with the barrier of his dark sunglasses firmly in place. The one-story brick building in front of him was barely visible with the light glaring at him, but clear enough to clench his stomach with dread.
Wyatt closed his eyes and called up the same mental images he would conjure to settle himself before taking hold of a bull. The same ones that calmed him, centered him, brought his focus to laser-sharp precision.
Gigi. A filmstrip of her smile, her laugh, her kisses, her touches all played on a familiar loop through his mind. This time the addition of all-grown-up Gigi with her curves, delicate skin, and ability to play his body like a finely tuned instrument added to the high school memories he’d clung to for so many years. The anger he knew he deserved, but it still cut him like a knife. All too soon followed the happy thoughts and was just as quickly banished to the back of his mind.
With a deep breath, he forced his legs into motion and exited his truck. No sooner had his hand landed on the curved silver handle to the law office than a familiar voice hit his ears.
“Damn. You’re on time.”
Wyatt’s head fell back, and he sighed. “Really, Tanner? Can’t even trust me to talk to an attorney by myself? Listen, I kinda have a vested interest in not screwing this up, unlike everything else, so you don’t need to babysit the Carlisle family asshole today.” His hands rested on his denim-clad hips, and he turned to the left to face his older brother. “Don’t you have to go cuddle up with my smokin’ hot sister-in-law?”
The audible growl from Tanner was almost amusing enough to distract him from the reemergence of knots in his stomach.
“First, you have your own damn girl.” Tanner planted his feet wide, and he folded his arms across his chest. “Second, where the hell did you ever get the idea that you’re some sort of outcast in our family?”
Wyatt clenched his jaw tightly. This wasn’t the time to rehash the myriad of screw-ups that led to that belief—or the fact that he technically didn’t have a girl or a damn thing else—as well as the issue facing him now. “It’s been pretty clear from day one. I’ve never measured up to my perfect older brother. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to go figure out what my legal options are to try to save my business.”
Tanner pulled his forearm back just as Wyatt tried to open the door again. “No, first we’re going to handle this once and for all.” He dragged his brother to the side as a woman in her forties slipped past them to enter the building.
Not before she tossed Wyatt an appreciative smile and wink. Years of buckle bunnies flirting, suggesting, and sometimes outright demanding his attention and affection had left him numb to almost any non-Gigi female.
“I don’t have time for—”
The older man’s palm collided with the brick wall to their left and cut off the rest of his words. Wyatt’s eyes widened at the uncharacteristic outburst.
“You are damn sure going to make time, little brother.” Identical sapphire eyes blazed with a fire Wyatt hadn’t seen from his always composed and structured older sibling. “Mom and Dad have never compared us. They never asked you to change, and hell, they supported every single one of your dreams even when they worried you’d kill yourself.”
Memories from his childhood and adolescence trickled through his mind. His dad taking him to training damn near every day of the week without fail. Or complaint. His mother packing a second lunch to make sure he was well fed before he got his ass handed to him by some imposing beast.
His brother had a point, but…
“They also made sure every single one of their friends knew when you landed the scholarship that was only awarded to one kid a year. And when you took Wake Forest to the championships. And when you got into grad school.” The arrogance Wyatt wrapped around himself to act as a barrier from the self-doubt began to slip. “Academics, sports, business, hell, even Izzy. Everything you do is perfect. You take care of everyone and do everything right.”
Silence descended between the two men, and Wyatt’s gaze dropped to the toe of his well-worn boots, stabbing against the concrete sidewalk.
“Damn, we need to get you and Georgia on the baby-making wagon soon.”
Tanner’s amused chuckle snapped Wyatt’s head up. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“When you have kids, you’ll understand how hard it is to balance everything, but you have to know that they’re so proud of you.” Tanner shook his head. “They would host parties with all their friends when your competitions were on TV. You know damn well they would crisscross the country to follow you and attend at least half a dozen rodeos a year.
“Wyatt, they are proud of you. I am proud of you. The whole damn family is proud of you. You struck out on your own and made a path for yourself. Just because that’s different from me doesn’t make it bad and it doesn’t make you a disappointment.” Closing the distance between them, Tanner awkwardly put his arms around his brother and pulled him in for the kind of hard, brief embrace men had perfected. “And I swear if you tell anyone that I said any of this or that I hugged you, I will deny it about zero point three seconds before I kick your ass.”
Wyatt laughed and shoved the other man away. A weight he never really acknowledged lifted. “Deal. Now get the hell out of here and let me save my business.” He threw Tanner a wink, unwilling to let the heavy emotion linger. “And tell my hot sister-in-law I said hi.”
Three hours, countless pieces of paper, and one highly motivated attorney later, Wyatt found himself wandering down the sidewalk in front of the various businesses and shops. A small blossom of hope began to stir in his chest, and sitting still wasn’t an option.
His family loved him and was p
roud of him. Somehow hearing that from Tanner meant more than all the assurances his parents would certainly offer if they knew how he’d always felt.
His business wasn’t safe yet, but together with the attorney they were creating a plan.
And even if Gigi was mad right now, they would get through this. Failure wasn’t in his vocabulary. He would prove to her that she could trust him. That started by not going anywhere. Even if she thought that’s what she wanted.
Being a pushy asshole was something he was good at. He’d spent too many years creating this mess by staying away to give up after just a few weeks.
Sunlight reflected off a glittering diamond in one of the storefront windows and drew his attention away from the thoughts swirling in his head. A princess-cut center stone flanked on either side by onyx set into a platinum band.
The perfect engagement ring for a Dark Angel.
He bit the inside of his cheek and hesitated for a moment before going inside. It was a risk that could easily backfire, but he damn sure had to try.
***
Georgia
“Did you see that? That was nine seconds on the meanest bull at that event.” The deep and largely fake Southern drawl hit her ears before she saw him. “Now, really I only needed eight seconds to win, but…why not show those boys how the real champ does it?”
His laughter mixed with a softer, lighter one, and Georgia blinked as she crossed the threshold into her grandmother’s room at the rehabilitation facility. Nearly a week there and, aside from a rough start, the older woman was progressing well enough a meeting had been scheduled for the following day to set up a discharge plan.
Wyatt sat in a chair beside Gram with his tablet in one hand and pointing at the screen with the other, obnoxious cheers coming from the device’s speaker. “Now this one wasn’t quite as pretty—”
“What the hell are you doing here?” She put a hand on her black pencil skirt-clad hip and pinned him with a glare. Stubborn, arrogant, and pushy. Why did he insist on continuing to be so freaking pushy?
Light sparkled in the older woman’s eyes, and she held a hand out to her granddaughter. “Georgie, Wyatt was just showing me some movies from his training. He’s going to be quite the professional one day.”
He shrugged as Georgia crossed the room and perched on the bed on the opposite side of her grandmother’s chair. “She thinks I’m still seventeen.” He threw Georgia a wink. “Hell, some days I still think so too.”
Her teeth sank into the sensitive flesh of her tongue until the coppery taste of blood trickled out. If her grandmother hadn’t been present…
Instead of the verbal beating he so richly deserved, she smiled and patted Gram’s hand. “Yes, he is going to be…something.”
Warmth filled her eyes as she looked back and forth between Georgia and Wyatt. “Don’t you two listen to anyone who tells you that you can’t find the person you’re meant to be with when you’re young. Why, I met your grandpa when I was just fourteen, and we’ve been married for fifty-five years now.”
A fresh slice of pain lanced through Georgia’s heart at the reminder her grandmother lived in the past. This year would have marked their sixty-first wedding anniversary in September if Gramps hadn’t passed six years earlier.
She’d long ago learned to stop correcting the older woman and allow her to stay wrapped in the happiness of the past that enveloped her. Even when she confused Georgia with her mother and even when it took another piece of her heart.
The stupid freaking cowboy could never take a hint and grinned at her grandmother’s words. “Gram, you are a genius. I keep tellin’ Gigi not to listen to any negative Nellies.” He winked up at her. “We were meant to be different.”
Georgia pressed her lips together and took three long, deep breaths, hoping to calm herself to retain the false shroud of serenity and happiness she presented to her grandmother. With a far brighter smile than she felt, she stood. “I’ll keep that in mind, Gram. I just need to talk to Wyatt for one second, but I promise we’ll be right back.”
Fake grin firmly in place, she all but dragged Wyatt from the room, down the hall, and around the corner where they had a measure of privacy. “I am going to ask one more time, what the hell are you doing here?”
“Visiting Gram. Are you tired? Sick? I mean I woulda thought that answer was pretty obvious there, Gigi.”
Cocky, arrogant, son of a—
What was it Tanner’s wife did? Teach yoga? Maybe she’d need that to exorcise some of the stress Wyatt created at the base of her skull. “Why?” It was a demand more than a question.
Some of the confidence drained from his face as his entire countenance softened. He reached a hand up but held it a breath away from her cheek before dropping it at his side. “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere. I love you, and you can trust me.” He stared at her for exactly five heavy thumps of her heart. “I learned my lesson, and I’ll never screw up that badly again. You can trust me.” He emphasized every syllable of the final four words he repeated.
The stupid freaking cowboy left her speechless and locked in a familiar war between logic and love, common sense and aching longing.
“But I’m also going to respect your space, so I’ll go say goodbye to Gram now, but I’m not bailing.”
He turned on his heel and walked away, taking half of the wall she’d valiantly tried to build to keep him out with him.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Wyatt
Twelve Years Earlier
She didn’t mean it.
It was a familiar refrain Wyatt had been trying to soothe his battered heart with after Gigi laid into him about all the things he’d done wrong. There wasn’t a bull he’d encountered who could drop him as fast as a few choice words from his hurting Angel.
He’d done every bit of that for her. How could she possibly think otherwise? Okay, there may have been a slightly selfish component, because Gigi was beautiful always, but when she smiled? Damn. That was stunning. And her laugh could fix any part of him that ached.
Wyatt shook his head, flicked his turn signal on, and flew up his driveway. He’d certainly get a lecture about his speed if either of his parents or nosy younger siblings caught him, but he didn’t care. He was on a mission.
His foot had just touched the landing at the top of the stairs, only a few steps from his bedroom door, when his father’s voice brought every muscle to a halt. “What are you doing, son?”
The wooden railing bit into his palm as he tightened his grip. “Just getting changed and then heading back to Gigi’s.” He winced and turned, regarding his father over his shoulder. “If that’s okay.”
Mike Carlisle stood in silence for a moment, every bit the classic father, holding a coffee cup in one hand. “How is she?”
Hurt. No, exhausted. No, broken into a million shards of splintered glass that Wyatt had no idea how to put back together. But he damn sure was bent on trying. “Not good. I don’t think I should leave her for too long just yet.”
He left out the part of her kicking him out and screaming in his face and telling him she basically never wanted to see him again.
She didn’t mean it. He had to believe that.
“I want to tell you that you two are far too serious for a couple of high school kids. Especially considering the fact that you plan on leaving right after graduation to start your career and travel all the time…”
Anticipation twitched Wyatt’s toes. He needed to get back to Gigi. “I feel like there’s a but there.”
Matching blue eyes locked on his. “But then I remember how I met your mom, and I see how much you love this girl and how she has changed you.” He took a long sip of his coffee then lifted his chin. “Go take care of her and let me know if you need anything.”
Without any further comments, Mike turned back into the living room, but the brief conversation played on repeat in Wyatt’s mind. He’d never been as good as Tanner. He wasn’t as smart and he didn’t ha
ve that damned golden touch, but in this moment a new appreciation for his family, even if he was certain they didn’t understand him, washed over him.
The lingering warmth stayed with him as he drove the five short miles back to Gigi’s. His stomach clenched as he parked, but the need to be present, even if mildly unwelcome, overwhelmed his…self. Wyatt knew he could be a cocky bastard, but when it came to Gigi, he was firmly and happily in the backseat to what she needed.
Barry Marsh’s pale, hollow face greeted him at the door with a vacant smile. “She won’t talk to me.”
The fracture in Wyatt’s heart deepened. Gigi had a habit of making sure her grandparents and father were okay before dealing with anything herself. The knowledge that she was shutting everyone out wasn’t encouraging.
He positioned himself in the same place he’d been before, seated on the floor outside her bedroom door. This time he thought ahead and grabbed a pillow off the couch to cushion his backside, even though all the throws he’d survived should have made him impervious to the uncomfortable hardwood floor.
Just before he took his seat, he’d knocked and let her know he was there. He tilted his hat over his eyes, absentmindedly stroked behind Roxy’s left ear, and waited. Even though it may kill him. Not the waiting, he’d wait forever. The distance between them. Not being able to hold her in his arms.
Rustling behind the door snapped him out of a sleep he hadn’t realized he’d fallen into, and he stood, ear pressed to the door.
“Wyatt?” Her voice was soft and completely devoid of all anger.
He lifted a hand, holding it against the wooden plank separating them, hoping she could feel him. “Yeah?”
In less than the space of a heartbeat, her door flung open and she launched herself into his arms. Sobs wracked her body as her arms and legs tightened around him to a suffocating level he’d never been more grateful for. “I’m s-s-sorry. I’m so sorry.”
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