It’s one drink Wyatt; get out of your head. One drink. One night. Do what the boys said. Go get laid and get over her. Don’t forget about Sloane, for God’s sake.
Sloane was the furthest thing from Wyatt’s mind. He was envisioning Keeli, naked and warm in his arms, red hair spilling over his arm as he rose above her. He envisioned her lips rosy from his kisses, her cheeks lightly chafed from his beard. His body instantly responded to the image and with a deep breath, Wyatt sprinted through the rain and up the stairs to Keeli’s apartment like a general leading the charge.
CHAPTER EIGHT
She wanted to meet somewhere instead of allowing Wyatt to pick her up at the apartment, but she knew that would never fly. She was not ashamed of the place exactly, but she knew the apartment would look shabby and cheap, because it was. It was also crowded with stuff since she had moved in and taken over two bedrooms, one now her tiny sleeping space, the other her design studio.
Keeli’s roommates, Dylan and Theo, had started out as friends, then roommates. Now they were planning a wedding, recently legalized in Illinois. They moved into one bedroom and sought two roommates. Instead, they got Keeli, who took both of the inexpensive rooms and now paid just under half of the rent.
The space worked and so did the relationship. The three were a match made in heaven, hitting it off instantly, becoming BFFs. Keeli sometimes felt like the third wheel, but the boys were smart, kind and hilarious to be around, so she moved in and paid her rent as best she could. In addition to everything else, they were great about helping her out when her she struggled to get the rent on time.
Dylan, chef at a hip Wicker Park restaurant, was gone most nights, Theo ran a catering company and both she and Dylan helped him out when they were able, Dylan in the kitchen, Keeli as wait staff. Theo was gone some days and some nights, and Keeli was gone most weekends. The crowded space worked well until all three were in it at once, like tonight.
This was Keeli’s first date since moving in with the boys over a year ago and now they were commenting on all her clothing choices. The boys had great style and Keeli was grateful for their advice if not their torment. She wanted to rely solely on the stylist friend of Dylan’s who had brought her an armload of clothing options.
“Please just be polite, and then disappear,” she rudely suggested when the two salivated about meeting Wyatt. “And do not tell him all my secrets,” she begged.
“Are you kidding? This is Wyatt Lyons Howe, honey,“ Dylan responded. “His family has their name on universities and museums and every building in town. And he is a hotty. No way am I missing this. I plan to bask in his exalted presence for a few minutes. Besides, we made a deal.”
The moment Wyatt walked away that afternoon, Keeli had phoned Dylan, begging him to get some help from his stylist friend for her date. Sofia had arrived to help her, but in exchange, Keeli had to promise to introduce the boys to Wyatt. Keeli loved Dylan like a brother, but she was terrified to leave him alone with Wyatt for even a minute. You had to know Dylan awhile before you really got his offbeat sense of humor.
Keeli had planned to be ready so that she could introduce the three men quickly and make a dash out the door, but Wyatt would be there any minute and she was still putting the finishing touches on her appearance.
She knew she looked her best; she had a professional with great taste dressing her. Still, when she looked in the mirror she saw too much red hair, too many curves, legs that were too long, giant lips and deer-in-the headlight eyes. The only things Keeli liked about her body were her nose, which was mostly straight and tilting up slightly at the tip, and her eyebrows, not too thick, not too thin, not too red. She knew other people found her eyes fascinating, being forest green totally rimmed in blue, but she just thought they were strange.
Tonight, with some help, this combination of features was dressed to impress. She wore a pair of designer jeans she could normally not afford, faded to a perfect pale-blue and hugging her long legs like a second skin. The stylist paired them with a jade green scoop neck blouse, sleeveless, flowing to the waist before hugging her hips. It was low at the neck but not revealingly low, tight in the bust but not excessively tight, solid in the front and back but stitched so that just the tiniest hint of skin showed on both sides. It was a blouse to tantalize, not tease. The outfit, finished off with her shined up black leather sandals, made her look curvy but not overblown, sexy but not overtly. Although, she kept telling herself she had nothing planned, the gorgeous lavender push-up bra and panties underneath everything made her feel feminine and seductive.
The blouse provided a hint at her tiny waist without making her hips seem large, the push-up bra contributed a wonderful glimpse of cleavage and she knew the shoes, with three inch heels and a platform, would make her a better height for kissing this tall man
Yes, that much I am planning on. I have imagined it over and over since we were interrupted at the Cultural Center - weeks of imagining a kiss. Could the real thing live up to my make-believe kisses? I intend to find out.
Keeli was just relieved that her hair was behaving. The last thing she wanted was a bad hair night. Her mop of curls was hard to tame with even a little humidity but today had been dry and clear. Keeli returned from the fair, washed and dried it quickly so that now – still warm from the flatiron - it laid to the middle of her back, thick and sleek like a red waterfall.
Standing in front the dresser, wishing for a full-length mirror as she did everyday, Keeli stood on tiptoe trying unsuccessfully to get the full effect. Giving up in frustration, she gave herself a reminder that she could not compete with Wyatt’s usual dates so she would just be her best.
Keeli focused on selecting the one piece of signature jewelry she would wear. This was what she - and not the stylist - got to choose and the small independence thrilled her. She also admitted that the jewelry was designed to distract Wyatt’s eye from her cheap purse and shoes. The stylist had not thought to bring purses and shoes were a no-go. After a day on her feet, Keeli went with a pair she had already broken in.
With this neckline, the bib necklace she created last month would work. The five strands of green-tinted steel cable with the South Sea intermittent pearls was one of her best pieces, with real commercial appeal. She tried it on, then took it off and opted for a new silver cuff bracelet. It left her neckline and cleavage bare and was a great statement piece. The sterling bracelet was weighty, about 2 inches wide with jasmine blossoms framing rows of silver braids. The cuff showed off her lean, muscular arms and represented hours and hours of her time. She took one last look, reminded herself to hide her work-roughened hands, and prayed she was appropriately dressed for wherever they were going.
Please God; do not let me make a fool of myself, or worse yet, humiliate this proud man.
Right on time, Keeli heard the knock then the chatter and laughter coming from the living room. It sounded like Wyatt and Dylan were hitting it off, which would be great.
Why does it matter if your friends like him and he them? Do you really believe this will be more than a one-time thing? Don’t answer that!
With heart pounding in her chest, Keeli reapplied enough tinted lip-gloss to replace what she had nervously chewed off. The heels on her sandals sounded deafening against the scuffed hardwoods and echoed in the narrow corridor. She cringed a bit, knowing they could hear her clomping down the hall like an elephant.
Then he was standing there, fresh shaven, gloriously tall and manly in a button-down black and pink (pink!) striped oxford shirt and black jeans. His sandy hair looked freshly washed and lightly styled off his face. Keeli’s fingers itched to dive into those waves. His lips looked kissable and his blue eyes were piercing as they lazily and thoroughly scanned her from top to toe.
The heat in that gaze sent a blush moving through Keeli, moving inexorably from her shoes to her hairline. His gaze on her was stripping her naked. Places on Keeli’s body heated, melting. Keeli became aware of places that had been dormant coming awak
e from his look alone. When his eyes hesitated at her cleavage, her heart skipped a beat or two, and when they lingered on her lips, she parted them on a sigh.
Finally, he made eye contact, but by then Keeli’s brain was mush. Wyatt’s lips turned up, his eyes sparkled with laughter. He knew exactly what effect he was having and that realization brought Keeli back to her senses. She remembered to smile and find her voice. She remembered, too, that they were not alone.
“Will I do?” She just passed some unwritten test with flying colors. She realized it sounded like she was fishing for a compliment and got flustered, blushing again. “I mean is this ok for wherever we are going?” She tried to recover from the awkward moment.
He gave her a nod.
Was he speechless too? I mean this is Wyatt Howe and he has asked her – HER – out for drinks.
The butterflies in her belly collided with the warmth of seduction. Keeli, Wyatt and Dylan were still standing in the doorway. He had said not one word, but Keeli was ready to drag him down the hall, Neanderthal style and make love all night. She wanted to feel the weight of his naked body crushing her into the mattress. She wanted to feel his kisses on every inch of her body.
He looks good enough to eat.
“Right on time.” She sounded inane, but it was all she could think of while she shook away the sensuous image. “ And I see you have met Dylan.” For once Keeli was grateful for Dylan’s presence. Although she feared he might say something embarrassing, Keeli was speechless and needed the help.
“Yeah, actually we’ve met before,” Dylan said seriously and mysteriously. Suddenly Keeli was concerned that Wyatt had a dark past that Dylan was aware of, or that perhaps they hated each other.
“Wyatt is active in that arts community where Theo caters. We just agreed that he is one of the best caterers in the city, so he passes my test. You can go out with him with my blessing.”
“Well, if we have your blessing, then it’s all good,” Keeli quipped finally feeling her mushy brain return to its former intelligence.
“Yeah, and Wyatt says you guys keep meeting at art fairs. I had no idea you were one of us, Wyatt. Around here we love artists.”
“Oh no,” Wyatt was quick to correct. “Not me. I do not have an artistic bone in my body. Wish I did. I am a patron of the arts.” He said “patron” in a way that clarified quickly that he was not a viewer but a buyer. The statement highlighted their myriad differences reminding Keeli of their backgrounds. He had not said it to be a snob, it was just who Wyatt was, a part of him.
Happiness warred with a feeling of inadequacy when Keeli thought of spending the evening with this witty, charming and sophisticated man. He was out of her league, but he was here, with her, for now.
“So, shall we get going? Where are we going, by the way? I never bothered to ask. Drinks, right?” Keeli almost clamped a hand over her mouth to stop the inane chatter. Why, oh why couldn’t she think of something witty? She always wished she could be wittier, smarter and more educated. Another difference.
“You might want a coat, just in case.” Keeli watched Wyatt look around the front entry, perhaps for a coat closet, maybe just ready to escape the cramped space. She saw his eyes move from the bare hallway to the living room filled with consignment furniture before he found the coat rack in the corner and moved toward it.
She would rather have died than be seen in her shabby fake-leather jacket. Instead, she insisted she would be fine.
Baby, you are putting off more than enough heat to keep me warm.
She blushed at the thought, turned away to grab her hobo bag, but not before she saw a look of confusion cross Wyatt’s face. She could have no secrets with the way she blushed all the time.
He stepped aside smoothly, allowed her to precede him through the door, and grabbed Dylan’s hand for a firm handshake on his way out. Keeli breathed an audible sigh of relief to be out of the ramshackle apartment and away from Dylan’s unpredictable humor. Wyatt caught her eye, looking concerned that the sigh was indicative of a problem. Keeli flashed him a wide, reassuring smile and he gave her a slightly cocky grin. She could not have explained why, but she felt suddenly that she and Wyatt were on the same page, ready to focus completely on each other.
He moved to stand close to her, saying not a word. Wyatt wrapped an arm about her waist, strong and sure, turning her until they were face to face. She felt the heat of his skin, the strength in his large hand on her small frame. She could smell his clean, masculine scent in the small space and feel his heart thumping. Her breathing sped up in response.
“You look fantastic,” he whispered on a breath. Keeli lifted her face toward his, looking straight into his eyes almost, but not quite, level with hers.
“I have been looking forward to this ever since you suggested it.” Her voice came out low, husky and seductive.
“Me too.” Their lips were almost touching. She could smell his minty breath mingling with hers. She wanted to close the gap, feel the velvet touch of his lips. The sexual tension was palpable. They had barely exchanged ten words, had not made it out of the stairwell but Keeli could see where this was headed.
Suddenly nervous, Keeli pulled back as much as she could with his arm around her, and started down the two flights of stairs to the first floor, trying to regain her equilibrium.
OMG he is so hot, how the hell will I get through drinks without losing it? At this rate, we will never make it out of the building.
“I really would have been okay coming down to meet you.“ She cut off her thoughts and reverted to friendly banter. “I didn’t hear the rain from my apartment.” Keeli stepped into the night air, “but now I feel especially bad for making you come get me.”
Rain! Where did that come from? My hair is doomed. So much for thirty minutes with the flat iron. Just my luck. No wonder Wyatt thought I might want a coat.
“You didn’t ‘make’ me do anything. I never do anything I do not want to. Never. And that is something you might want to remember about me.”
Suddenly Wyatt was this icy cool man she had not seen before. He was emphatic, almost as if he was scolding her. It captured her complete attention. Keeli figured she was seeing the real-estate-mogul side of Wyatt. She liked the playful side of Wyatt, respected the intelligence and wit, but this confident side of him turned her on more.
Keeli loved that he was so commanding, so self-assured, but now her butterflies were back in full force and she realized how enthralled she was with him. She responded instinctively to his strength, sensing a strong character and directness that touched a chord in her.
His hand still held her waist, the warmth spreading and intensifying. The combination of his arresting presence, powerful demeanor and polished veneer was overwhelming her senses. Keeli realized that she was definitely not prepared for the onslaught of delicious appeal that was Wyatt Howe. She was not prepared, but she liked it.
Oh yes, I like it very much.
“Chicago Athletic Association?” he suggested. It was the hot spot for drinks overlooking Millennium Park and the Art Institute.
“Sure, perfect,” Keeli responded, grateful that she had heard of the hip bar and did not have to ask about exercising. Of course, she had never been there. She knew that it had undergone an extensive renovation and reopened as the top location for twenty- and thirty-somethings. She pictured noisy and crowded, and tangible disappointment deflated her anticipation of a cozy couch and conversation.
“You’ve been there?” She shook her head no and he smiled. “It’s hip, but it’s Sunday so the crowds shouldn’t be too bad. The Drawing Room should be great this time of night. We can find a comfortable couch and grab food too. I thought you might not have had time to eat.”
“I didn’t,” Keeli replied, “I would love some food.” So, he had pictured a couch too. Delighted they were on the same page, Keeli realized that beneath all her nerves she was hungry.
“Nice car,“ she drawled in sincere appreciation when they stopped in front
of the Panamera. “Really nice car. I see now why you want didn’t mind driving.” He flashed her a wide smile. “I have brothers who trained me to appreciate fine machinery when I see it. And this is certainly fine machinery. Your new toy, I gather?”
Wyatt helped her into the car, handling her as if she might break. “Glad you like it, Ma’am,” he drawled sarcastically, but she could tell she had just scored points.
The door closed softly and she sat back in the hushed interior, running her hands along the supple leather until he slid into the driver’s seat. His eyes dropped to watch her hand stroking the leather; looking into her face, he met her gaze with a heated one of his own. Becoming aware of what she was doing, she forced herself to stop, but the sexual tension was overflowing the intimate space.
“I want to know everything about you, Keeli. Tell me everything.” His eyes stared into hers. She felt herself falling under his spell. She felt his thumb stroke her leg lightly, rhythmically. The feel of his hand on her thigh was burning into her skin, large and solid. His voice, low and melodic was that of a hypnotist pulling at her soul. The space was small; the man was larger than life.
Ah, that touch. I love that touch. What did he ask me? Shit, what did he ask me? You are so in trouble, girl.
CHAPTER NINE
It took Keeli a few moments to respond. Perhaps she was deciding where to start. It was a broad question after all. Wyatt was hopeful that the delay was due to that confused look on her face, and he was arrogant enough to think he might be the cause of that confusion. He loved this part of a date, when the sexual tension was thick, when the relationship was full of possibility.
Bedazzled (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 1) Page 8
