She rolled her eyes. “I just said that I can show you around the area if you’re really serious about looking for a place to live.”
“We’re serious,” Asher said. He tousled Jace’s hair. The little boy was sitting on a booster chair between his dad and Wyatt. “Aren’t we, Jace?”
The boy nodded. “I wanna yard this big.” He threw his arms wide, narrowly missing the glass of milk Wyatt hastily grabbed out of the way. “So my horse has lotsa room.” He nodded emphatically as if by saying the words, they were magically true. “Right, Daddy?”
“We’ll see, sport. Drink your milk.” He waved a finger at the milk glass and Wyatt moved it back within reach of the boy.
Jace’s lip poked out. “I wan’ a horse.”
Victoria leaned over the table, smiling into Jace’s face. “Remember Trixie? Uncle Garrett says she’s going to have her puppies any day. Maybe your daddy will let you come spend the night with us again after they’re born.”
“Can I have a puppy?” Jace was distracted all right, looking excitedly from his aunt to his dad.
“I don’t know, Jace,” Asher said, but he was giving their little sister a wry look. “We’ll see.”
Victoria tossed her long dark curls over her shoulder, obviously not cowed one bit. “It’ll be weeks before the puppies can leave Trixie, sweetheart. But I know you’ll come visit us lots and lots, so you’ll be able to see them as much as you want.”
Jace heaved a sigh, seemingly mollified for now. “Can I have chocolate in my milk? Please,” he tacked on and Asher nodded, gesturing for the waitress.
Victoria looked back at Wyatt. “So what do you say?” She was practically bouncing with enthusiasm. “I love the idea that you’re going to be living here in Red Rock. Let me help you find the perfect place.” Her gaze took in the others. “What sort of property do you guys want?”
“I’m not sure I want one at all,” Sawyer reminded. He elbowed Shane beside him. “Are you?”
Their eldest brother just shook his head once and continued poking at his meal. “Look at whatever you want,” he finally said.
Victoria’s brown gaze returned to Wyatt’s. “Well?”
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. He’d noticed that Shane had been pretty silent and distracted for days; even more so than the rest of them. He also knew that trying to get him to open up would be as impossible as it was getting James to explain his behavior that had set all of this in motion in the first place.
He focused again on his baby sister. Sarah-Jane’s hair was just as long as Victoria’s, but where Vic’s was glossy and dark brown, it didn’t hold the red fire that Sarah-Jane’s did.
“Something different than the condo I have in Atlanta,” he told her as much to get his thoughts off of Sarah-Jane as anything. But as soon as he voiced the thought, it felt right. Moving to Red Rock was about making changes. Major changes.
“So, a house then.” Victoria was nodding.
“With a big yard,” Jace added.
“I don’t want a horse,” Wyatt told his nephew, laughing a little. Or did he? Horses? Dogs? A kid of his own with liquid brown eyes?
The thought came out of nowhere. He shook it off like an irritating fly.
“You should,” Jace was telling him seriously. He had a chocolate milk mustache. “There’s nothing better than a horse.”
Sawyer laughed outright at that. “And you’ll probably keep thinking that, bucko, until you meet your first girl.”
Asher gave Sawyer a quelling look.
“Girls are yucky,” Jace said.
“Not all of ’em,” Shane countered, surprising all of them.
Definitely not all of them, Wyatt agreed silently.
“I talked to Dad this morning,” Shane added, changing the topic completely. He was staring down Wyatt.
Wyatt wasn’t particularly surprised. That was Shane. “Did he decide to explain himself? Tell you that he’s changed his mind?”
His brother’s lips tightened. He shook his head once.
“Big surprise there,” Wyatt muttered.
“We can’t just let things go so easily, Wy.”
“Why not?” Wyatt’s mood darkened even more. “Just following in the old man’s footsteps. He’s letting go pretty da—” He saw Jace’s avid expression. “Darn easily, far as I can tell. He’s just not explaining his reasons why.”
“Let’s not talk about Daddy,” Victoria begged. “I don’t want to ruin a perfectly good lunch.”
Too late. Wyatt pulled out his wallet and tossed enough cash on the table to cover his share of the meal. “Do your scouting and call me when you have some ideas,” he told Victoria.
“Where’re you going now?”
“I’ve got an errand to run.”
“Or a woman to woo,” Sawyer drawled, giving Wyatt a goading look.
Victoria’s brown eyes sharpened like a cat on the hunt. “Woo? Who?” She grinned, obviously pleased with her own wit. “Anyone in particular?”
Wyatt gave Sawyer a hard look. “No.”
“Yeah, right.” Shane pushed aside his half-finished plate. “More like that stacked brunette who works at that sewing place.”
“Knitting,” Wyatt corrected automatically, only to wish he’d kept his mouth shut. And her hair is auburn, or are you blind?
“The Stocking Stitch?” Victoria gave Wyatt a speculative look. “Well, well, well. Maybe it’s time I took up a new hobby.”
Wyatt gave her a stern look. “Keep your inquisitive nose away from that shop and Sarah-Jane.”
Victoria looked even more delighted. “Wyatt, you’re sounding positively protective. Love once again strikes a Fortune in Red Rock. The blessing lives on.”
Sawyer hooted. “Michael called that the Red Rock curse.”
“You’re all freaking crazy,” Wyatt muttered, turning to leave.
“You won’t be saying that when we hear wedding bells ringing again.” Victoria’s laughing voice followed him.
“They’ll be ringing for someone else,” Wyatt promised before he left the restaurant. He ignored the laughter that followed him.
Seeing Sarah-Jane was a lot more preferable than putting up with his siblings or thinking about anything else going on in his life, even if he couldn’t seem to get the memory of her veiled in that pretty ivory wrap the night he’d taken her to the River Walk out of his head.
Chapter Six
Sarah-Jane tilted back her head, enjoying the feel of the sunlight on her face. It was a chilly afternoon in the Red Rock Community Park, but the sky was typically brilliant and the sun even more so.
She liked the lush, green park with its meandering walking trails and sturdy, rustic wood benches scattered everywhere. In the mornings before work, she often ran there. Then during her lunch break, she’d sit among the trees and watch the ducks swimming on the small man-made lake; or join the ever-changing rotation of young mothers beneath the triangular sails stretched above the playground area where their toddlers were romping; or like today, sit in the middle of a quiet stretch of emerald green grass with the sun shining down on her head.
A soft squawk had her looking down at the small birds hopping through the grass a few feet from her bench. She smiled, watching the birds, and scooped another handful of birdseed from the plastic bag she’d brought with her, and tossed a portion toward them. The hopping grew even more frenzied as the little brown creatures raced to nab a morsel before their competition could.
“What kind of birds are they?”
Startled, she felt the birdseed still in her hand slide through her fingers to her feet. Several birds bravely hopped closer, pecking up their prized seeds from right around Sarah-Jane’s shoes. She hardly noticed.
She was too busy staring at Wyatt.
“I have no idea,” she said faintly. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.” When he smiled, truly smiled, it showed in his eyes even if the smile on his lips was barely a faint curve. “I stopped by
the shop,” he added. “They told me where you were. Mind if I join you?”
Was he serious? Thoroughly bemused, she shook her head.
He was wearing faded blue jeans and a white button-down shirt and was holding the same leather jacket from the day before bunched in his fist with no regard whatsoever for what was probably the most expensive leather that money could buy. And when he sat down on the bench beside her, she couldn’t help but inhale his masculine scent.
He smelled even better than the park on a chilly afternoon.
He angled his head, looking at the birds that had only scattered for as long as it took for him to sit down before they bounced back to resume their treasure hunt. “Looks like you have some loyal friends here.”
Sarah-Jane dragged her gaze from the choppy dark gold lock falling across his forehead and looked down at the birds. “They’re loyal as long as I remember to bring them something to eat.” She held up the small, plastic bag that was nearly empty. “They’ll be gone soon enough when the supply runs out.”
“So they’re greedy, too.” He cupped the bottom of the bag with one hand and reached inside with his other, his knuckles brushing against hers, and came up with a small handful. He tossed the seeds farther afield and the birds chirped and hopped, only to scatter when a larger bird swooped down on them. His lips tilted and he looked back at Sarah-Jane.
Caught staring at him, she felt her face warm. “The sun’s very bright today,” she said, inanely.
His smile was almost impossibly gentle and the faint lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I like it.” He looked back out at the grounds. “This is a nice park you’ve got, Sarah-Jane.”
“Well.” She laughed shortly. “It’s a nice community park that Red Rock has, anyway.”
He shook his head, his blue gaze sliding over her. “I saw the sign when I got here. But it’s always going to be Sarah-Jane’s park to me from now on.”
The pleasure melting through her was silly. She knew it, but was helpless to stop it. All of which just made her feel like she was still the same foolish schoolgirl who’d believed every word uttered by the popular football jock who’d suddenly taken a notice in her.
She tipped the few seeds remaining in the bag on to her palm and tossed them far off to one side, toward a tiny little bird. It pounced on one of the largest of the seeds, narrowly escaping with the treat before a larger bird could snatch it away from him.
“Do you come and feed the birds every day?”
“Usually.” She didn’t look at him, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of him with every cell she possessed. “Obviously not yesterday.”
“The birds’ loss was my gain.”
She sighed a little and looked at him from the corner of her eyes. “Why do you keep saying things like that?”
“Why do you keep believing I don’t mean what I say?”
She frowned, having no ready answer for that. At least no answer she cared to admit aloud.
As if he knew it, he picked up the plastic bowl sitting on the bench between them. “Your lunch, I assume?” He peeked under the plastic lid and tsked. “Looks like you didn’t eat much of it.”
“I had enough to have my fill of lettuce and cucumbers,” she assured dryly.
“Surprised it’s not bread so you could let your feathered friends here finish it off for you.”
“Better them to have the useless carbs than me.” She leaned down and picked a sunflower seed from the toe of her tennis shoe, and tossed it farther off in the grass.
“From where I’m sitting, it doesn’t look like you need to be worrying about carbohydrates, useless or otherwise.”
Feeling more self-conscious than ever, she tugged on the end of her ponytail, then flipped it behind her shoulder. She wasn’t used to compliments, whether they were only kind lies or not. “You wouldn’t have said that a few months ago, believe me.”
He plucked a slice of cucumber from among the lettuce and ate it, his blue gaze on her all the while. “Why’s that?”
What was it about the man’s steady gaze that had every thought she possessed drooling out of her mouth? “Nothing. I’ve...just lost a few pounds recently.” She shrugged as if the words meant nothing.
His gaze didn’t waver. “I doubt that you needed to, but if you feel better about yourself, then more power to you.”
She didn’t know what sort of reaction—if any at all—that she’d expected, but it didn’t seem to be that. “I thought I’d feel differently.” She heard the words coming out of her mouth with a sort of horror. “But I look in the mirror and still see the same old me.”
“I grew ten inches my senior year in high school. Until then, the mildest description for me was scrawny. I still feel like the runt of my brothers.”
“But that’s ridiculous,” she exclaimed. “I’ve seen all of you together and you’re the—” She broke off before she could tell him he was the best looking of them all. Scrawny wasn’t even in the dictionary of words that could describe him.
He had a slight smile on his face. “Everyone is always their own harshest critic.”
“Thought you studied finance. Not human nature.”
His grin flashed. “And girls. Don’t forget the girls. I was finally taller than most of them.”
“Even Georgianna Boudreaux?”
He raised an eyebrow. “How do you know about her?”
Darned tongue. “My roommate happened to mention it.” She figured the words were true enough.
Wyatt managed to keep himself from grinning even more. She was curious about him. Pretending she really wasn’t, but he could still see it in her eyes.
He imagined that he could see every thought she possessed in those beautiful eyes of hers. It was at once unnerving and sexy. Unnerving because it brought home so clearly the fact that she didn’t possess the hardened, protective layers he was accustomed to. Despite the moments he seemed to break through it, she continued to cloak herself with wariness. But her eyes were where the wariness fell short, leaving just the vulnerability that was as sexy as it was unsettling.
“I would have been a lot taller than George if she’d ever worn regular shoes instead of those stilts she liked.” He had dated the woman only a few times. She’d been interesting enough, but he’d never once looked into her eyes and felt the unfamiliar stirring he felt with Sarah-Jane. “I really do want to see you again,” he said quietly. “I’d like to pick up where we left off the other night in San Antonio.”
She looked away, presenting him with her profile. Her fingers worried at the empty birdseed bag.
“But if you want to start fresh, okay. If all you’re ready for is to let me sit here on the park bench with you, feeding birds, then that’s what I’ll do.”
She gave him a quick glance. “I thought you wanted to take me out to dinner.” Color suffused her face and she clamped her lips closed.
He smiled and slipped the warm, fiery strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ear. His fingers grazed her creamy cheek when he lowered his hand and he saw her pupils widen before she quickly looked away again.
“I do want to take you out for dinner.” And a lot of other places. Any place. Including bed. “But I think Sarah-Jane might be more comfortable with something simpler than that. Like lunch on a park bench.”
“Unlike Savannah,” she murmured.
Her expressions were so open, it was like reading a book. “I don’t know what your deal is with the name, but the same woman I went to San Antonio with is the same woman I’m looking at now.”
Her lashes lifted and the longing in them was almost more than he could withstand. “You really think that?”
“I know that,” he said quietly. Then, because he wasn’t sure if he could sit there another second without putting his mouth on hers, he stood and backed away. “Tomorrow. Same park bench. Same park. Agreed?”
She hesitated, then nodded. Once. Twice. “Agreed,” she said softly.
* *
*
“Oh my God.” Felicity clasped her plastic-gloved hands to her chest, smearing melted chocolate on the front of her apron. “That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. He’s going to meet you in the park! Just think, someday when you’re celebrating your anniversary, you can tell your kids that you fell in love with their daddy on a park bench.”
Sarah-Jane gaped. “It’s lunch! Don’t go imagining craziness, now.” She shook her head sternly, as if she hadn’t considered Wyatt’s suggestion to be exactly as romantic as Felicity thought, and continued laboriously trying to replicate the perfect little “TC” swirl that her roommate left atop the dark chocolate truffles they were making. Felicity was able to complete at least five truffles for every single one of Sarah-Jane’s. “Anniversary,” she muttered. “You’ve been smelling too much chocolate, I think. It’s going to your head.”
“And you haven’t been smelling enough.” Felicity took the tray of truffles that Sarah-Jane was laboring over and had them finished in a blink. “Take off your gloves and wash your hands,” she ordered, carrying the tray over to the counter where it joined several others. “We’ll come back and box these up later.” She tossed her plastic gloves in the trash and took off her apron. “Well?” She gestured when she noticed that Sarah-Jane hadn’t done the same. “Come on, now. We don’t have any time to waste.”
Sarah-Jane was almost afraid to ask. She pulled off the thin gloves and rolled them in a ball. “For what?”
Felicity heaved a sigh and moved behind Sarah-Jane. She plucked the plastic ball of gloves out of her hand and lobbed it into the trash, then tugged the apron over her head. “Shopping,” she said succinctly. “We’ve got maybe an hour before the shops close.”
“I don’t want to go shopping,” Sarah-Jane protested, even as she let herself be pulled along by her determined friend. “I hate shopping.”
“Too bad,” Felicity said airily. “Maybe you and Wyatt won’t have a wedding anniversary to celebrate someday, but tomorrow you do have a date. And it’s long past time you spent a little of that money you squirrel away every paycheck on some clothes that actually fit.”
Her New Year's Fortune Page 9
