by Susan Stoker, Cristin Harber, Cora Seton, Lynn Raye Harris, Kaylea Cross, Katie Reus, Tessa Layne
“I think maybe a little.”
“Sorry.” She didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “It really is ancient history. I’m just thrilled that he’s so into you.”
“Well then I’m glad.” She was pretty thrilled herself.
“He hasn’t dated anyone since being wounded, as far as I know. It’s been hard to see him shut himself off from everything, but I have a feeling you might be the one to drag him back into the world.”
“Yeah?”
“Absolutely. And it couldn’t happen to a better guy. It’s why I brought Grits to him—I knew for a fact he had to be lonely, and as much as he insisted he didn’t want another dog, I knew he’d get attached to the little guy in five minutes flat.”
“Wyatt sure does seem to like him.”
Piper shrugged. “He just won’t admit it out loud, because of masculine pride. He’s as alpha as they come, all the Colebrook men are. It’s a miracle Charlie managed to date anyone with three older brothers and a former gunnery sergeant dad guarding her.”
“I hope I get to meet her tonight. I bet she’s got some interesting stories to tell.”
“She totally does.” Piper slanted her a sly grin. “And I’ve got a few myself that you might be interested in hearing. If you stick around, that is.”
Austen gestured to the gutted house behind her. “Well I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon.”
“Good, because Wyatt needs a keeper. You interested?” She stuffed the last of the brownie in her mouth.
Yeah, Austen thought to her surprise. She actually was.
* * *
He finally knew what he had to do.
The woman was the answer to everything. Austen Sloan.
At first he hadn’t been sure, but after seeing her and Wyatt making out in front of the motel last night and then overhearing him invite her to dinner tonight…
Piper had just left the Miller place, and so had the last of the crew. She’d been out back with Austen, neither one of them had noticed him eavesdropping on their highly informative conversation.
Now that he knew, all he had to do was exploit Wyatt’s weakness.
The gun in the glove compartment called to him. It would be so easy to go back to the house and take her now. There was no one around to stop him, and he’d catch her off guard. She’d be too surprised, too shocked to do anything but go with him when he held her at gunpoint.
From there he could take her to his hunting shed out in the woods. Tie her down. Maybe have a little fun with her first. She was hot, and the way she’d been so cold and haughty to him made him want to teach her a lesson too.
As soon as the thought formed, he dismissed it. Shaking his head, he blew out an unsteady breath and fought to calm his racing heart.
He couldn’t afford to act rashly. He’d never raped a woman before. Never had the urge before. He had to think this through, come up with a solid plan and make his move at just the right time. So he’d go home for the time being and cool off, come up with a solid strategy. After that, all he had to do was shadow her, and sooner or later the right opportunity would appear.
He aimed the dash vent to blow the AC at his face, but even the blast of cold air didn’t help clear his head. His damn hands were shaking and he felt queasy.
Christ, he needed a fix, and he needed it now. Even a small one. Anything to dull the pain. For the past three days he’d gone without and he was feeling more unstable than ever. The memories were trapped in his mind, the voices, and the only way to silence them was to get drunk or high. Or both.
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel and he gritted his teeth. Wyatt deserved to be punished for what he’d done. He deserved to suffer.
So he would take Austen from him. Show him what it felt like to lose everything. And part of him dearly wanted Wyatt to see him take her. Wanted to shoot Wyatt first then make him watch, bleeding, while Austen died right in front of him.
He’d take Austen’s life while Wyatt was forced to watch, without being able to do a damn thing to save her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Wow, you guys’ve sure got your work cut out for you with this place,” Easton said as he glanced around the front parlor, hands on hips.
“It’ll keep us busy for a few months at least, that’s for sure,” Wyatt answered, reaching out to grasp his father’s elbow so he didn’t lose his balance and stumble over the materials strewn around the room.
His dad aimed an annoyed glare at him and pulled his arm free. His pride was going to get him seriously hurt one of these days, Wyatt just knew it. “I’m good,” he grumbled. “Where’s Austen at?”
It surprised him that his dad seemed so eager to see her. She must have made quite an impression on him during last night’s dinner. “In the kitchen. Come on back.” Both he and Easton had spent time in the Miller house too, before Taylor died, and…on the day of his funeral.
The steady beat of pop music blared from the kitchen, along with the whine of a sander. His dad frowned and shuffled his way toward the sound. “For such a nice girl, she’s got shitty taste in music.”
Wyatt smirked. “I can’t argue with that.”
She’d been a good sport by letting him and the other guys listen to their country music for most of the workday during the job. But once the others cleared out for the night, she switched on her stuff and Wyatt tolerated it as best he could.
They rounded the corner of the wall separating the kitchen from the hallway, and Austen was there, her back to them as she sanded down the cabinet doors she’d been working on. Heading for the stereo, Wyatt killed the music.
She straightened and whipped around with an annoyed frown. “Hey, it’s my turn—oh!” Breaking into a big smile when she saw his dad and Easton, she pushed the goggles up onto the top of her head. “Came to check the place out, huh? Guess curiosity finally got the better of you.”
“All that talk about what you planned for the house last night made me want to see it firsthand,” his father said, the left half of his mouth pulled up in a grin. He made his way over to inspect her work, running his left hand over the surface of the cabinet door she’d been working on. “Cherry?”
“Yes. I was going to go with cream or white cabinets because I’ve always loved a white kitchen, but then I decided it would be better to match the floors. I’m going to stain the cabinets a shade or two darker, then paint the walls a vanilla ice-cream color to make it all pop, and the countertops will be a creamy quartz. With all the light that comes in from the windows, it’ll be nice and bright in here even with darker cabinets.”
His father nodded in approval as he took in the rest of her work so far. “Looks like you’re making good headway.” He shook his head, a wry twist to his mouth. “I’m impressed. And I don’t impress easy.”
“He really doesn’t,” Easton chimed in.
“You did all this by yourself?” their dad asked her.
“Yep. I love carpentry. There’s something special about creating something with my own hands that will be used by someone else for years to come.”
“How did you learn it?”
“My grandfather—my mom’s dad. My father left us when I was little and my grandpa stepped in to fill that gap. I used to hang out in his workshop with him on the weekends and he started showing me how to do things.” She smiled. “My favorite memories of him are the times we spent together working on projects out in his shop behind the house.”
“True craftsmanship like this is a dying art form,” his father said with an approving nod at her work. Wyatt hid a smile. His dad’s opinion of her meant a lot to Wyatt, and it appeared she had him securely wrapped around her finger. She was polite, down to earth and a hard worker, all the things his dad valued most aside from loyalty.
From what Wyatt had seen, she had that too. She was still close to her mom, and her friends back in Pennsylvania. It couldn’t have been easy to pick up and move down here after everything she’d been through.
W
yatt admired her courage, her dedication and her work ethic. She worked just as hard as the guys, and most days stayed a couple hours after quitting time to finish something up or tidy up the site. She was also easy to work with and for, huge pluses for him, because he knew how rare that was.
He stayed off to the side while she conversed with his dad and Easton, her easy grin and relaxed manner around his family stealing another piece of his heart. If this kept up, pretty soon she was going to own it completely. He wasn’t sure what the exact status of their relationship was, or if they even had one, but that’s what he wanted with her.
It would mean having to move outside his comfort zone. Since being wounded he’d become such a recluse and pushed everyone but his family out of his life. Now he wanted to let Austen in. In some ways that was even more terrifying than when he’d finally made the decision to have his lower leg amputated.
Austen cocked her head at his father. “Want to see upstairs? I’ll show you how the master suite is coming along.”
His dad raised both eyebrows. “Of course I want to see the upstairs.”
“Great.” Hooking her arm through his in a sneaky but endearing ploy to keep him steady on his feet, she began leading him toward the bottom of the stairs and Wyatt fell for her a little more. His father shot him a smirk but didn’t say anything as he followed.
Oh yeah, she definitely had his dad’s number. He grinned to himself and turned to Easton, who hadn’t moved. “You’re not going upstairs?”
“Nah.” He tucked his hands into his front pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I barely recognize that look on your face, but it’s damn good to see it again.”
Wyatt frowned. “What look?”
“You know what I mean.” He angled his head toward the stairs, where Austen had just disappeared with their dad. “Her. She makes you happy.”
Yeah, she really did.
“I like her,” his brother went on. “Piper adores her, and I’m pretty sure dad is smitten. You gonna ask her out officially?”
Wyatt put his hands on his hips. “I might.”
“Good.” Easton stepped forward to grasp Wyatt’s shoulder and squeezed. “Try not to be a miserable son of a bitch, and you be good to her. She’s had it rough.”
He frowned. “Who told you that?”
“Does it matter?”
“Piper.”
Easton didn’t deny it. He released Wyatt’s shoulder and grinned. “Austen’s awesome. I’m happy for you, man.”
Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward. “She’s not mine.”
“Well then hurry the fuck up and do something about it, dumbass.”
Wyatt’s gaze strayed back up the stairs as he considered his brother’s words. He’d felt half-dead inside for so long and it was like Austen had revived him again.
Pursuing her was a risk, but he’d been living a half-life since being wounded. He of all people knew how short life was, and it was time to start living again to the fullest. Not only for himself, but to honor the guys he’d lost, who had paid the ultimate sacrifice that day.
A few minutes later Austen’s voice reached him as she escorted his dad back down the stairs. She tossed him a smile when she came into view, her arm still hooked securely through his father’s. “Your dad’s pretty damn nimble for someone who suffered a stroke.”
“It’s all a matter of attitude,” his father proclaimed as they neared the bottom step. “Mind over matter. Be damned if I was gonna lay down and die just because of some clot in my brain, or wind up in a wheelchair from it. No sir. Not this Marine.”
Wyatt exchanged a conspiratorial grin with Austen that warmed him right to the center of his heart. He wanted time alone with her. So when his dad and brother finally left fifteen minutes later, he didn’t wait. “Come over for dinner tonight? My place. Just the two of us.”
“And Grits.”
“And Grits,” he conceded, pulse beating faster because he was pretty sure she was going to say yes.
“I’d love that,” she murmured, and leaned in to kiss him. It was way too brief, over before he’d even gotten a taste of her and she pulled back, her silver eyes molten with desire he desperately wanted to quench. “I’ll make out with you later, once I’m all freshened up and not all sweaty and covered in sawdust.”
“I don’t care about any of that,” he said, taking her by the shoulders. He didn’t give a shit if she was sweaty. He’d happily make out with her right here and now until her knees gave out, then lay her out on the floor, strip her naked and bury his face between her long, strong thighs. God, just the thought of it made blood rush to his groin.
“Well I do.” She brushed her lips over the corner of his mouth and straightened. “I’ll bring dinner. I’m gonna make you my mama’s famous mac ’n cheese. One bite and you’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven.”
He cupped her jaw in one hand, dropped his voice to a deep murmur as he stared into her gorgeous eyes. “I already think that, every time I kiss you.”
Her pupils dilated, expanding until only a thin rim of silver showed around the edges. “You keep sweet talking me like that, and you might get more than strawberry shortcake for dessert.”
He almost growled, had to order his hand to drop when she stepped back.
“I’ve just got a couple more things to finish up here. I’ll grab the groceries on my way to the motel, clean up and then come right over.”
He was already starving, and for way more than her mama’s mac ’n cheese. “Looking forward to it.”
The smile she tossed him was so sensual and full of promise he went rock hard in his jeans. “Me too. Be safe.”
The reminder of the stalker sobered him immediately. “You too,” he said as she walked out of the room.
* * *
Austen got to Wyatt’s place at a little before seven that night. She pulled the groceries out of the passenger seat and walked up to the front door of the cabin with anticipation curling in her stomach. For the last few hours all she’d thought about was Wyatt and what it would be like to feel his naked body on top of her. Inside her.
Grits was there at the door to greet her, and Wyatt a second later. He swung open the screen door with one muscular arm and gave her a smile that almost melted her panties. “Hi. You look amazing,” he said, taking the bags from her with one hand.
“Thanks.” She’d bought this dress at a boutique last summer and never had an occasion to wear it. The bright coral dress was sleeveless and came to mid-thigh, showing off her arms and legs, and the heels she’d put on accentuated the muscles she worked hard to keep in shape. She wasn’t a girly girl, but she’d wanted to look her best for him. “You shaved.” He looked so different without his dark beard. The swirls and pockmarks on the right side of his face made her want to kiss each one of them. She realized how huge it was, that he was letting her see the full extent of the scars. It touched her deeply.
He rubbed a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. “Yeah. Thought I’d better clean up for you.”
“Well, for the record I think your beard is sexy too, but damn, you sure clean up nice.”
He smiled and flushed a bit, which she found freaking adorable. “Come on in.”
“Thanks.” She stepped inside and waited while he placed the groceries on the counter.
“This is a lot of food for just us,” he said, glancing in the bags.
“Well, mama’s mac ’n cheese recipe makes a whole big casserole dish full so you’ll have leftovers tomorrow.”
“How many kinds of cheese did you buy?” he asked, sounding astonished as he began unloading everything onto the counter.
“Four. And heavy cream, then butter and breadcrumbs for the top. Not to mention the fixings for dessert later.”
At the word dessert he stopped what he was doing and met her gaze, a hungry expression on his face that made her want to skip dinner altogether. She’d worn her hair down tonight, taking extra care to tame her curls into individual spirals
that bounced against the tops of her shoulders, and she’d added just enough makeup to accentuate her eyes. Judging by the heated look in Wyatt’s eyes as he raked his gaze over her, it had totally been worth the extra effort.
“We could start with dessert,” he said in that low, sexy voice that did things to her.
“We could,” she allowed, “but I’d hate for you to miss out on the mac ’n cheese.” Besides, she was enjoying this slow build way too much to rush now. She wanted to savor this, the entire experience of tonight.
He opened the fridge. “Want some wine? There’s still some left from the other night.”
“Love some. Can I just make myself at home in here and go for it?”
“Be my guest,” he said with a smile, reaching up into a cabinet for a wineglass.
She found a couple of pots, utensils and a cutting board, then got busy grating all the cheeses while the water for the macaroni heated.
Wyatt placed the wine within reach. “Need a hand?”
“No, you just relax,” she said while the butter melted in the saucepan. She added the flour and whisked it together to make the roux, then stirred it until it cooked through before adding the milk and heavy cream.
She was adding the first grated cheese when Wyatt stepped up behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat of him through her dress, and settled his big hands on her hips. He nuzzled the back of her neck, and her knees went weak.
“Looks amazing already,” he murmured, his lips brushing over her nape. He trailed kisses to the left side of it, to the sensitive spot that made her gasp and lift up on tiptoe.
It took her a moment to realize she was still holding a handful of shredded Gruyere. “You’re distracting me.”
“Am I?” His teeth raked ever-so-lightly against her skin, then the warm flick of his tongue caressed her.
Her fingers bunched around the cheese as her eyes closed. “At this rate I’m gonna burn your kitchen down.”
He chuckled, the warm gust of his breath on her skin sending an arrow of desire through her. “Can’t have that, you being a firefighter and all.” Placing one more seductive kiss on that spot that made her see stars, he straightened and slipped his arms around her waist, pressing the front of him flush along her back and hips.
