Fetching: A Frenemies to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Unleashed Romance, Book 1)

by Kylie Gilmore

“Wow.”

  “Yeah.” He wraps my hair around his fist. “How old were you for your first time?”

  I make a face. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Course I do. That’s why I asked.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Seventeen.”

  I look at a point over his shoulder, slightly embarrassed that I was younger. I don’t know why I’m embarrassed. It was consensual, and we were in a relationship. “Sixteen, but I was almost seventeen.”

  He pinches my chin. “It’s all good whatever you did in the past. I only care about right now.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck, smiling. “Good.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Like what?”

  “Sex with your high school boyfriend?”

  I think about that. Crammed into the back seat of his car, the rush of heat, and then over too quick. “Kinda. I didn’t know any differently. It was fine.”

  “For me it was awesome, though I suspect less so for her. I wasn’t the lover you see today.”

  I hook my ankles behind his back. “And that’s all I care about right now.”

  He picks me up, plastered against his front. “Going back upstairs.”

  I laugh and wave toward our half-eaten breakfast. “What about our waffles?”

  He nips my neck. “I’ll whip up a fresh batch.”

  “Why did you tell Kayla I’m in love with you?”

  He starts climbing the stairs, not at all winded by carrying me with him. “She believes sex and love should go together and told me to wait until there was love. Clueless virgin.”

  I laugh, but it sounds hollow.

  He sets me down at the top of the stairs, his large hand cradling my jaw, his whiskey eyes searching mine. I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him passionately. We have this, and I need it. That has to be enough.

  He guides me back toward his bedroom, never breaking the kiss, and we stumble through the doorway, slamming the door behind us.

  Am I crazy? After complaining to anyone who’ll listen that the man is Satan, I now like being with him so much I don’t even want to go home. It’s kinda embarrassing.

  We haven’t had one argument since we first had sex. Was that the problem? Just a buildup of sexual tension? Or is it the fact that we haven’t talked much beyond sharing our history? I guess I’ll find out. He told me to stop by tonight after work. I finish work at midnight. Yeah, it’s a booty call, but hell, the sex is phenomenal. If that’s all it is, I’m sure it’ll burn out soon enough. Why not enjoy it in the meantime?

  Though there are times, when his eyes meet mine with such warmth, I just melt.

  I call Drew later that morning to see how it is out there. I’m hoping I can get home with my car, but I’ll deal without it if I have to. I’m sure the tree guys will be busy for days.

  He answers, sounding out of breath. “Hey, Syd. A tree fell on my garage. I’ve got Adam over here with his chainsaw, helping me clear it.”

  “Is your truck okay?”

  “Yeah, the tree damaged the roof but didn’t break through. Eli says Route 15 is clear.”

  “Okay, I’ll call someone else for a ride.”

  “Hold on.” I hear him talking to our brother in the background. “Adam’s almost done here. He’ll get to you next and clear the tree blocking your car. Then you’re home free.”

  “Great, thanks.” I say bye and head to the sofa room, where Wyatt’s sitting on the sofa. Kayla’s upstairs. “Adam’s stopping by soon with his chainsaw to clear the tree, and then I’ll go.”

  “Why the long face?”

  I paste on a smile. “I’m happy.” It’s ridiculous to be sad about our magical time ending. I should just be glad we had this. And if it doesn’t go much further, it just wasn’t meant to be.

  He crooks his finger at me. I walk over and sit next to him.

  He hauls me into his lap, tucking me sideways. I lean my head against his chest with a sigh. “You’ll miss me.” He shifts, meeting my eyes. “Go ahead and admit it. You don’t want to leave because I’m the best lover you ever had, and you hate the idea of going to work.”

  I laugh but admit nothing. “I haven’t had stress relief like this in forever.”

  He chuckles. “I could slash your tires so you have to stay even longer. Would that help?”

  I push his shoulder. “Psycho.”

  He gazes at me warmly, and a bubble of pure happiness rises in me. “I’ll miss you too.”

  A short while later, Adam arrives. Wyatt answers the door, Snowball in tow, and I follow him. Adam’s wearing a dark gray wool cap over his short brown hair, black fleece jacket, jeans, and work boots. He’s tall, wiry with muscle, and reserved. A lone-wolf type. He works for himself mostly, only using help from a father and son team for bigger jobs.

  “Adam,” Wyatt says warmly, “thanks for coming to the rescue. I don’t have any axes or chainsaws hiding in my lighthouse.”

  Adam cracks a smile. “Right.” He jerks his chin at me. “Glad to see you in one piece. That tree came damn close.”

  “I know. It was terrifying.”

  He jerks his thumb toward the door. “I’m going to get to work. Just wanted to let you know I’m here. Once I get the tree in pieces, I’d appreciate some help getting it out of the way. Do you mind if I come back for the wood with a couple of my guys and my van? It’s a fine tree.”

  “All yours, man,” Wyatt says. “I want to see what you do with it.” He turns to me. “Your brother is a true artisan.”

  Adam ducks his head, embarrassed by the compliment, and walks outside.

  I smile at Wyatt. “I think so too. Did you visit his workshop?”

  “Yup. And I went through his online portfolio too. That’s why I hired him.”

  “He made an awesome tree house for his neighbor when he was between jobs. I would’ve loved it as a kid.”

  “I saw that, with the shutters for the windows and the skylight. Like I said, a true artisan.”

  I beam, proud of my brother. “I’ll thank you on his behalf. He doesn’t do well with compliments. I think he holds his work to a higher standard.”

  “Every artist does.”

  Once the tree is cleared, I know my time is up. I push down the feeling of dread. Back to work at the place that’s sinking around me and pulling me down with it. “I need to grab my purse,” I say. We’re still outside.

  Wyatt turns to Adam. “You want to come in for coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  I gape for a moment before following them inside. Adam must like Wyatt. He’s normally the kind to do his job and go. He doesn’t linger for coffee and conversation. My defenses crumble a little more. Adam-approved means something. He only lets people in he believes are trustworthy.

  The two of them are in deep conversation about the possibilities for the pine tree. Wyatt’s asking how difficult it would be to make rocking chairs out of it for his porch.

  “It’s the ideal wood for that,” Adam says and then launches into a surprisingly detailed explanation about why.

  Wyatt gets the coffeemaker started. I take a seat at the island with Adam. Snowball goes up on her hind legs, sniffing Adam’s boots madly. She probably smells his bulldog’s slobber on them. Adam reaches down, absently rubbing her behind the ears as he talks.

  Once Adam winds down his rhapsody on pine, Wyatt says, “I’d like to commission some rocking chairs, then. Unless you wanted to use the wood for yourself.”

  “I’ll take a piece, but there’s plenty to go around.”

  “What were you thinking of making with it before I rudely claimed rocking chairs? Four, please.”

  Adam smiles. Another smile! “I like to let the wood speak to me. What does it want to be?”

  “So Zen,” I quip.

  Adam arches a brow.

  “I told you he was an artisan,” Wyatt says. “He approaches it like a sculptor. I can’t wait until you get started on my library. Next week, right?”r />
  “On my schedule.”

  A few minutes later, Wyatt serves up coffee and stands across from us at the island. “How bad is it out there?”

  I take a sip of coffee.

  Adam wraps his hand around the mug. “Highway department cleared the main roads. Some of the side roads have downed branches still, but you can get around them.”

  I fill Adam in on the reality of the lighthouse being a water tower, but it turns out he already knew from Wyatt. I guess they talked quite a bit before. I had no idea.

  Kayla walks in. “Mmm, fresh coffee.” She halts, looking past me to my brother, her brown eyes widening. Her cheeks flush, and she raises a hand to self-consciously smooth her hair down. She has major bed head, and she’s still in her faded red sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants. “I didn’t know we had company.”

  “Didn’t you hear the chainsaw?” Wyatt asks.

  Kayla can’t stop staring at Adam. My brother seems equally transfixed.

  I make the introductions.

  “Hi,” Adam says, offering his hand.

  Kayla gives him a quick handshake, blushing furiously. “Nice to meet you. I don’t usually look like I just rolled out of bed. Obviously. People get dressed. But, uh, see you.” She bolts.

  A smile plays over Adam’s lips as he watches her go.

  Wyatt gestures to where Kayla just went upstairs. “I’d apologize for my sister, but you’ve got a sister. You know the drill.”

  “I’d never apologize for wearing sweats,” I say. “Someone comes into my house and they don’t like the way I’m dressed, that’s their problem.”

  “Yes, well, Kayla’s not a she-devil,” Wyatt says with a smirk.

  Adam’s brows rise in question.

  I shake my head. “I call him Satan. Sometimes Beelzebub.”

  “Term of endearment,” Wyatt says. “She’s crazy about me.”

  Adam turns to me, a question in his eyes.

  I wave absently. “He’s crazy about me is the real truth.” I point at Wyatt. “Ha.”

  He grins. “You really know how to wound a guy.”

  Adam stands. “I’d better get going. Syd, you want me to wait to be sure your car’s all right getting out of here, or are you good?”

  “I’m good. Thanks for your help.”

  He nods once, looks toward the stairs, and heads out. Snowball trails after him, followed by Wyatt. I hear the door shut behind them and sigh. Now it’s really time to go.

  Kayla pokes her head downstairs, her hair now brushed smooth, fully dressed in a sweater and leggings. “Did Adam leave already?”

  “Yeah, but don’t worry, he’ll be back next week to work on the library. He’s a master carpenter. You can stare your fill.”

  She smooths a hand through her already smooth hair. “I wasn’t staring, was I? Oh God. So embarrassing. I was just surprised! I didn’t know we had company.” She mutters to herself, heading back upstairs.

  “He’s single!” I call.

  She turns back. “I’m not looking for a guy! He just seemed nice.”

  “You got that from hi?”

  She turns on her heel without another word.

  15

  Three weeks later…

  Wyatt

  I can hardly believe how easy things are with Sydney after our rocky start. We never fight now. She practically lives at my place. My parents were a fast and furious romance, living together after only a month. Sydney says her dad proposed to her mom on their first date. Sometimes that’s how it goes. All I know is I’m happier than I’ve been in a very long time. Still, I’m cautious. I’ve been burned too many times by women who want something from me, and if anyone needs to take, it’s Sydney. Her money troubles are a constant source of stress. She doesn’t want to do business with me, and now that we’re involved, I agree it’s best not to.

  I’m in the parking lot of her restaurant to pick her up for our date. She took a rare Thursday night off for it. I’m taking her to a cool Mexican-Jewish restaurant in the city. The instant she gets into my car, the scent of honeysuckle and sexy woman wraps around me. I know her perfume now, honeysuckle. Lust rushes through my veins. I can’t resist kissing her.

  She smiles and pulls a silver gift bag out of her giant purse. “Got you something.”

  I stare at it, my throat unexpectedly tight. It’s the first time a woman has given me anything in years. Women always want something from me, expensive jewelry mostly, sometimes shopping trips or luxury getaways. They ask and ask, take and take. Sydney’s asked for nothing, and now she’s giving me a present. Giving, not taking.

  My voice comes out hoarse. “Syd, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “Open it!”

  I set the tissue paper back and pull out a mug that says Handsome Devil. There’s little devil horns above the words.

  “Do you like it?” she asks.

  I curl my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her close, and kiss her. I rest my forehead against hers. “I love it.” And I think I love you.

  She cups my face in both hands. “Good. Now feed me.”

  “You realize what this means?”

  “What?” she asks, a smile playing over her lips.

  “No more casual sex. We can only have the serious kind now.”

  She beams, stroking my beard. “Is that right?”

  I hold up my present. “I thought the mug made that clear. You give a guy a mug, you might as well say I’m off the market. He’s the one.”

  She laughs, and then her eyes soften. “Wyatt.”

  We’re official.

  After the mug revelation, I immediately start telling everyone Sydney’s in love with me—the waiter at the Mexican-Jewish restaurant, the parking garage attendant in the city, and then the next day, my sister and Sydney’s bartender and waitstaff. I say it in front of her because it makes her blush, which is funny, but I’m really just waiting for her to agree before I admit it.

  Things are moving fast with Sydney, but I can’t seem to help myself. It’s like when you’ve been hacking away at a program that keeps crashing, and then suddenly it works. Magic. That’s how it is with Sydney. We click on every level.

  It’s now the first Saturday of February, and she hasn’t said a word about how she’s going to make this month’s payment toward her debt. I stop by her restaurant regularly. She gets a good crowd at the bar on the weekends, and her ladies’ night and trivia night have followers, but it’s not enough. I don’t want her to be stressed month after month, barely scraping by. I give generously to those I love, even if I haven’t said it in so many words. In any case, I’m stepping in to solve the problem. This isn’t business. It’s way past that. This is a gift to the woman I’m crazy about.

  I open the glass door of Robinson Martial Arts Academy in an old white clapboard house and head upstairs to the main door. It’s nearly noon on a Saturday, and I’m hoping to catch Sydney’s older brother Drew on his lunch break. He’s the one who inherited The Horseman Inn and wanted to sell. Sydney told me her brothers Drew and Caleb always work here together on Saturday, their busiest day. Drew owns the dojo. Caleb works there when he’s not going to the city for modeling gigs. She shares a lot about her brothers. They’re close, which I like, because my family is too. When you lose a parent young, it brings the siblings closer together.

  There’s a row of black plastic chairs in a small waiting area filled mostly with dads. A class of twenty kids, boys and girls around ten years old, are moving through a series of movements while Drew and Caleb watch at the head of the class. I’ve seen all of her brothers around The Horseman Inn at one point or another. Usually to watch a game and hang at the bar, but Eli also plays acoustic guitar there sometimes. The kids are on a raised blue platform that reminds me of what gymnasts use for flooring, probably with some spring to it. White flexible ropes surround the platform, and a long length of mirror is mounted on the wall for the class to see themselves.

  Drew barks out something I don’t
understand. Japanese? It sounds like kata something. Caleb and the kids move into another choreographed series of movements, ending with a punch and kick. Both Drew and Caleb wear black belts around their white karate uniforms. The kids are mostly orange and purple belts and look very serious.

  “Good,” Drew says. “Practice that new kata daily.”

  “Yes, Sensei,” the class choruses in unison.

  “I’ll see you next week,” he says.

  They bow to him before filing out of the ring in an orderly line. The kids are talking to each other, but not too loudly. I’m surprised at how well behaved they are.

  Drew and Caleb follow the class off the mat. Caleb gets to me first. He’s got a buzz cut and an open friendly face. “Hey, Wyatt, what’re you doing here? Looking to sign up for a class?”

  “No, actually, I was hoping to talk to Drew.”

  “Wyatt,” Drew says as he steps off the mat, “what’s up?”

  “Just wanted to talk to you if you have a minute. In private.”

  He nods once. “Give me a few minutes.”

  I hang back while Drew and Caleb mingle with the parents and say goodbye to the kids.

  “Next class doesn’t start for fifteen minutes,” Drew says, returning to my side. “Come back to my office.”

  I follow him around the corner to a small office with an old wood desk and a black mesh office chair. He indicates I should take the plastic chair opposite him. I do, suddenly unnerved by his hard expression staring at me across the desk, his brown eyes direct, his scruffy jaw tight. This is the first time we’ve spoken one-on-one, and he’s giving off a menacing vibe. Does he know I’m sleeping with his sister?

  I clear my throat. “I’ve been seeing Sydney. Has she mentioned it?”

  He leans back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “No.”

  “Uh, okay, well, we are. So I know the restaurant isn’t doing well. I have a plan to help her, and I’d like to talk to you about it because I know you inherited the place.”

  “I transferred the deed to her name.”

  “Ah.” That makes this more difficult. The woman is stubborn—her only flaw—but I can work around that. I barrel on, figuring if he’s on board with my plan, he can back me up. “I want to help her out. I can buy it, clearing the debt, and then I’d like to renovate and hire a new chef. Farm-to-table restaurants are popular right now, and in this area it’s something we could pull off. There’s enough suppliers nearby. I’d keep Sydney on as manager. I’d have a say, of course, as owner.”