“Damn right. And I’m not going to let you go.” He spoke softly, resting his head on mine. We sat in silence for a while. His voice was low when he said, “Thought about that letter you got? Since today’s been sorta slow and all.”
I laughed. I’d known what I was going to do as soon as I’d opened the letter. “Not much to think about,” I answered softly.
He stiffened a little. “Oh?”
“Free rent,” I teased. Which is true. “Good roommate.” I nudged him.
“You’re going to A&M?”
“It has the best program.” Which is true. I paused, feeling him relax.
“Nothing to do with me?” he asked.
I looked up at him. Yes. Maybe. Is that wrong? “Should it?”
His words were soft. “I’ll go where you go. If you’re okay with it?”
I saw the love in his eyes, felt it in my heart. “I’m okay with it.” My whisper was husky, strained. How did I get so lucky?
“I love you,” he whispered.
I nodded, running my hand along his leg. “Good.”
He laughed, pressing a kiss to my temple. And there it was—after a horrible, evil day, I was completely happy.
As content as I was to do nothing more than sit there, all wrapped up in him, us, and love, Wyatt was having a hard time with the whole not doing something. Every time someone walked by, lifted or carried something to the barn, raised a saw or hammer, climbed up a ladder, he sighed or shifted on the swing. “It’s killing you to sit here, isn’t it?” I asked.
“It’s not too bad.” He looked down at me, the look in his eyes surprising. Maybe he wasn’t moping about the barn. Maybe he was thinking about me.
The front screen door opened and Dax re-emerged, looking more frazzled than when he went inside. “Need anything?” he asked.
I handed the bag of ice to him. “We’re done with this for now.”
He took it, turning it over in his hands. “Anything else? Wyatt?”
“A hammer. Or a nail gun.” He leaned forward, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Ain’t happening.” Dax clapped him on the shoulder and went back inside.
Two agonizing hours later, Green’s Bar-B-Q arrived with a van full of food for everyone working. Not that anyone really took a break. They grabbed food and went back to work. By then the barn was illuminated from inside with work lamps, while the outside was bright with truck headlamps.
“Looks good,” Wyatt said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over us. He sounded strange, tense.
My hand rubbed his thigh. “It does,” I agreed, hoping he’d talk to me.
He looked at me, a small smile on his gorgeous—tired—face. After a second, he added, “In the barn I had some of Hank’s gear, Cannon left some bridles and bits, Molly had an older saddle… It wasn’t just my stuff that burned up.”
I wished there was something I could say.
“I hate him.” His voice was low, but his eyes blazed.
“Wyatt.” I slipped from the swing, kneeling in front of him. “You can’t. Don’t go there, please. You have every right to be angry—”
“Well, I am. For all he knew I was sleeping in my bed,” he growled. “He…he didn’t care. I don’t matter to him.”
I shook my head, pressing my lips tight. I didn’t know Travis Holcomb. I couldn’t say anything to make this better. Wyatt was only saying what we’d both been thinking. As much as I hated his father, Wyatt was better than that.
“Look at that,” Mom said as she came out onto the porch. Her blue gaze traveled from the barn to us. Her smile faded. “Everything okay?”
“Wyatt’s frustrated,” I offered, hoping to leave it at that. “He wants to help out.”
“Oh, Wyatt.” Mom’s voice was full of sympathy.
“Don’t worry, Dr. Cooper, there’s nothing to help with.” Levi was back, looking more satisfied and cocky than ever. He waved Wyatt over. “Done. Come on, you big baby.” He paused then, asking Mom, “He can walk, can’t he?”
My mom laughed.
Wyatt stood up. “I can walk.”
“Then check it out,” Levi said.
The rest of the night was a blur. The barn was awesome—at least I thought so. On the wall hung pegs, just like at Wyatt’s. Ropes and lassoes and bits of rodeo gear I didn’t know the names of yet were already hanging there. I might not be a big people-person but that didn’t mean I wasn’t in awe over what Black Falls had done tonight. And the amazing generosity and kindness amongst them—even Levi—was really hard to get my head around. I couldn’t think of a single person more deserving than Wyatt. He looked over every single thing, thanking each and every person that had come out to help.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what Wyatt had said. Watching him shake hands, endure teasing, the odd playful pat on the back, I knew he was struggling. Anger was a powerful emotion, one that could get in the way. But I knew it’d be okay.
You’ll do the right thing. I smiled when he glanced at me. He always did. But “the right thing” was his call—no one else’s. I couldn’t tell him what to do; this was his father we were talking about. As much as I wanted Travis Holcomb far far away, it wasn’t my place.
When the last truck pulled away, the sky was black and the stars were out in full force. We sat on the porch, the five of us, talking, until Dad pulled rank and made us all get ready for bed.
“You’re home tomorrow,” Dad said to Wyatt. “Doctor’s orders. But you two…” He looked at Dax and me and shook his head.
I knew he was right, but letting go of Wyatt, the hand I’d held all day long, was a lot harder than I’d expected.
***
Tuesday was weird. I didn’t know most of these people, but that didn’t stop them from asking about Wyatt, what he needed or how they could help. From the counselor to the coach, everyone was worried about him.
Coming home was the best part of the day. Wyatt was in the barn, talking to Pecos, Pickett nearby. I leaned against the solid wood doorframe, perfectly happy to stand there, looking at him. I’d never thought I was the boy-crazy type, but I was happy to be wrong. That he was here, safe, mine…I swallowed the emotion that threatened to choke me. “How are they liking their new place?” I asked as I walked in.
He turned, his crazy-gorgeous smile almost knocking me over. “No complaints.”
I smiled up at him, wanting to touch him but holding back. It was bad enough I’d thought about him through most of my classes—what a pathetic lovesick girly-girl I’d turned into. I wasn’t going to throw myself at him. I’d lose all self-respect. “That’s good.”
The length of rope he’d been holding hit the dirt, and his warm hands tugged me against him. He smelled like sunshine and hay and…and Wyatt. I slid my arms around his waist, relaxing against him. His fingers tilted my face toward his. “Have a good day?” His gaze searched mine.
A hundred times better now. But I only said, “Everyone’s worried about you.”
He shook his head. “You tell ’em I’m good?”
I couldn’t stop smiling. “I did. But that’s not going to stop them from worrying about you. Lots of people love you, Wyatt. You make it kind of easy.”
His gaze was fixed firmly on my mouth now, hot and brown and—making my chest tighten.
“Wyatt?” I whispered, hoping that look meant what I thought it meant.
His attention didn’t wander.
“Are you going to kiss me now?”
He nodded slowly, leaning down to brush his lips over mine. A shiver ran down my spine, a wonderful, powerful jolt of pleasure.
“Have a good day at school?” My father’s voice separated the two of us. Wyatt stepped back immediately, stooping to pick up the dropped rope at his feet.
Talk about a buzz kill. “Fine,” I muttered, clearly irritated.
Dad was smiling, enjoying the way we shifted awkwardly. “Homework?” he asked.
I nodded, scowling at him. “Yep. But I was hoping
to do it after I spend some time with Wyatt—since I’ve been worr—thinking about him all day. I thought I’d try cheering him up.”
Dad made a strange choking sound then laughed. “Sounds like a plan.” He winked at Wyatt and walked out of the barn.
“Definitely cheered up,” he whispered as our lips came together, our hold on each other a little tighter, a little closer than before the interruption.
Was it normal to kiss for half an hour? To almost stop breathing, get dizzy, and want more? To burrow against his neck and inhale his scent as deeply as I could? Something about being close to him made me ache. Like I couldn’t get enough of him, get close enough…
His hand brushed through my hair, tilting my face back. “You’re beautiful.”
I shook my head, blind-sided—again—but this time it was his words that knocked me for a loop.
“You are,” he murmured.
“Wyatt…” I took a deep breath. Now was probably a good time to ask him. If we weren’t distracted soon, there was the serious possibility of my body exploding.
“What?” His smile faded a little.
“I guess… Well.” I shook myself. “I know you’ve kind of been through a lot the last couple of days. And you’ve got a lot weighing on your mind and your really ripped shoulders.” I paused, appreciating his smile. “And this is sort of stupid and definitely not something that’s on your radar. But I was wondering if…” Was I really panicking over this? I spit it out, quickly. “Will you…do you want to go to the Homecoming dance with me?”
He was grinning like an idiot. My cheeks were blazing. “I was going to ask you,” he said and stroked my cheek.
“You were?” How had a stupid high school dance become something so freaking exciting?
“Stuff just got in the way,” he murmured, his smile fading again.
“I know.” I waited, watching his expression darken. I squeezed his arm. “I’m here, okay? Talk to me, if you want to. I’m here.”
And just like that he was staring at me, his eyes warm and inviting. “I know. And I’m grateful.” His lips were feather-soft on mine before he drew back. His gaze followed his thumb as it raked over my lower lip.
I shivered. “Wyatt,” I whispered before he kissed me again.
“Hmm?” he asked, his lips traveling across my cheek.
“You’re making me…feel…crazy—” I bit off as his lips fastened on my earlobe. I pushed, gently, on his chest.
His eyes were narrowed, his breathing rapid.
“Keep it up and…” I scanned the barn quickly. “Well, we’re not in my parents’ house right now.”
He wore that strained, barely-in-control expression that made him hotter than ever. His thumb raked over my lower lip again.
I groaned. “You said you wanted to go slow.”
His smile was huge. “I do. We will. Didn’t say I wasn’t going to think about…things.”
“So…you’re thinking?” It was hard to get the words past the lump in my throat.
He nodded, that damn muscle in his jaw twitching.
Which only made me crazier. I swallowed. “Well…stop it…or you’ll have to explain things when one of my parents comes in and I’m pulling your clothes off.”
He swallowed, his attention wandering from my face to my chest. His in-control was slipping, his pained expression making my insides go hot and liquid.
I stepped back, taking his hand in mine. “Seriously. I can tell what you’re thinking, and it’s not helping my whole good-girl-who-won’t-toss-her-hot-cowboy-into-the-nearest-pile-of-hay vibe.” I was teasing. Sort of.
His hand slid under my shirt, pressing against my back. “There’s no hay in the barn.”
“It’s a good damn thing,” I whispered, his hand sliding up between my shoulder blades. Enough. Defusing sexual tension now… “Oh, in case I forgot to tell you, I have your homework too,” I said sweetly.
He laughed. “I thought you said everyone was worried about me.”
“They are.” I led him from the barn. “And they don’t want you to get behind.”
He let go of my hand long enough to put the length of rope on one of the wall pegs. His fingers laced with mine as we walked to the house, Pickett running circles around our legs as we went.
***
Things got easier when Wyatt got the green light to start doing everything again. He was the sort of person that needed to be busy. School, rodeo, work, they actually made him happy. And I made him happy. I was beginning to accept that—to love that.
I turned up the music coming from the computer my parents had let me have in my room. It was nice to know they were beginning to trust me again. And it was nice to listen to music, loudly, when I felt like it. Like now.
Homecoming was Saturday, two days away. And the only thing I had to wear was the sparkly gold sequin dress Lindie and I had purchased together. We’d matched—mine was gold, hers was electric blue. They had been the shortest, tightest, lowest cut dresses in the store—leaving nothing to the imagination. Likelihood of dancing in it? Slim. But we’d bought them anyway, intending to wear them to the prom and stir up all sorts of trouble. But prom had been two weeks after the accident.
I’d been under suicide watch—missing the dance, the parties, the tribute to Lindie and Zach the Student Council had put together. It was a good thing I hadn’t gone. If I hadn’t already been in the nuthouse, that would probably have put me there.
I held up the dress, looking at my reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t a pretty dress. But it had cost a lot of money and I’d been in full do-whatever-it-takes-to-piss-Dad-off mode, so…it had been the perfect dress. And Lindie’d said I rocked it.
Honestly, that could be a bad thing. Her confusion over feminine versus slutty had always amused me. I had a feeling this was one of those situations, but decided to see for myself. I pulled off my school clothes and tugged…and tugged…and tugged it on.
I was a little out of breath when it was finally zipped up. Oh yeah. Oh no. I look like a high-dollar hooker. I turned, looking over my shoulder. Huh. Had I actually looked at my reflection wearing the dress before I bought it? Was I that clueless? Yes. Yes, I was.
The house phone rang but I ignored it, fidgeting with the zipper that was now snagged in the gold sequins. The phone rang and rang. “Dax?” I yelled. Nothing.
I ran out of my room and hurried down the stairs.
I picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey sweetie, your dad and I were invited out. A little dinner and maybe a little dancing.”
“Sounds fun.” I still felt guilty over ruining their last attempted date.
“You three can handle dinner on your own, right?” Which was mom code for: Can you three behave, or should we stay home instead of having a night out?
“We’ll be good.”
“I’ll have my cell phone if you need anything. See you later.”
“Have fun,” I said, hanging up the phone.
“Allie?” I heard Dax calling outside. “What’s up?”
I walked out onto the front porch, shielding my eyes from the late afternoon sun. “Mom. She and Dad are going out tonight.” By the time my eyes had adjusted to the sun, I realized Dax wasn’t alone. Wyatt, Levi, and Hank were all gathered around an old tractor, the hood open and tools lying on the ground. Guess my music was a little too loud. How else would I miss the roar of Levi’s truck?
But they were all here now, staring at me. Dax was shaking his head. Because I looked like a stripper.
“Okay then,” I said, backing into the house. “Shit.”
I spent the next five minutes trying to get out of the dress, but the zipper was stuck and there was no way I was pulling it over my head or pushing it past my hips. I spent another five minutes looking for a pair of scissors, which I finally found in a kitchen drawer. I heard the screen door and braced for another Dax lecture on needing attention.
“Hey.” It was Wyatt.
I froze, scissors in hand.
“Hi.” I glanced at him. “I…I…Zipper’s stuck.”
“Some dress.”
“Trying to find something for Homecoming.”
His eyebrows went high. He opened his mouth, then closed it.
“I’m not going to wear it, don’t worry.” My face felt hot. “I can’t…Where’s Dax?” Maybe I could convince him to help. Instead of letting me wallow in total humiliation.
“He went to get some parts for the tractor,” Wyatt murmured, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Oh.” I nodded. We’re alone? I look like this and he’s looking at me like that…I held out the scissors to him, jerking the zipper. “I can’t…”
He blew out a slow breath. “Cut it?” His eyes swept me from head to toe before he gave up and closed his eyes.
“Not like I’m ever going to wear it.”
He opened his eyes, approaching me slowly. He took the scissors from me, put them on the counter, and bent to look at the zipper. I glanced down at his dark head, then stared at the ceiling.
Besides the faint music from my bedroom upstairs, the room was quiet. Other than my breathing and my heartbeat, that is.
“Sequin in the zipper teeth.” He sounded completely normal, as if seeing a problem that needed fixing removed the whole girlfriend-in-next-to-nothing issue.
“I couldn’t get it out,” I explained. “So, scissors.”
Our eyes met. He sat back on his heels, his detachment disappearing. His jaw clenched and his breath picked up a little. He stood up, pulling me into the circle of his arms. I didn’t care that he was covered in dirt, that his white undershirt was sweaty, that the stubble on his cheek was rough against my temple. All I knew was he was humming, his hands holding me close, as he moved us to the music.
I smiled, resting my head against his shoulder.
“My dad was arrested today,” he murmured when the music stopped. He didn’t let go of me, or tighten or loosen his hold.
I didn’t move, but I did hold on tighter. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Sheriff Hodge was at the arena waiting for me. He told me Dad didn’t put up a fight. And he doesn’t want to see me.”
I swallowed back angry words.
“He admitted what he did. Guilt, I guess. He told the sheriff he thought it was Saturday, thought that I was on the road, or he’d never have done it.”
Cowboys & Kisses Page 26
