by Barb Han
Heck, she felt the same way. Life was a lot smoother without overcomplicating it with emotions. Okay, sure hers had already engaged, and that confused her even more at the time. It would be just like her to want to start a relationship with another emotionally unavailable person. If there was a Been There Done That T-shirt for picking the wrong type she’d have a closetful. She’d blame her parents for ditching her—and that might partly be true—but she also took blame where it belonged, which was with her. She didn’t want to risk her heart by truly falling for someone. Those lines ran deep within her and, if she had to guess, had started when she was ten-years-old.
The worst part was that she wasn’t gullible. On some level she realized that she was choosing unavailable men on purpose and the reason was to give her an escape route. Meg didn’t get close to people. Period.
Having a daughter was softening Meg. She’d fallen for that little girl the minute she saw those round cheeks and blue eyes, as clichéd as that might sound. Stephanie was the only other person Meg trusted enough to let inside her carefully constructed walls, and the two of them had only become close recently, after Meg had learned she was pregnant.
Meg thought back to the last real friend she’d had before Stephanie. Mary Jane. Her ten-year-old best friend. A tear escaped just thinking about her.
“Hey, everything okay?” Wyatt asked, and she glanced up at him in time to see that he was studying her intensely.
“Yes,” she lied, but then decided to come clean. “No. Not really.”
“I apologize if—”
“You have every right to expect proof,” she said quickly, not wanting him to spell out his distrust of her. Somehow, that would only make things worse in her mind and this was Aubrey’s father. For her daughter’s sake, Meg needed to find middle ground with him. “It’s a lot to chew at once. I’d probably request the same thing if I was in your shoes.”
He started to say something but seemed to think better of it, taking a sip of coffee instead.
She needed to redirect the conversation away from the two of them and all that their relationship lacked. “The sketch kept coming back to me last night and I don’t know why. I don’t think I’ve never seen him before.” She had to consider the possibility that he was someone from her past that she’d blocked out. But who? Why?
“The person who attempted to take Aubrey yesterday did so while she was with Stephanie,” Wyatt said, and she could almost see the pins firing inside his brain. He was an intelligent businessman. He’d learned to look at all angles, and he could probably be a big help if she let him in.
Opening herself up even a crack was so hard. Meg had been rejected by everyone she let in.
She studied Wyatt, debating. “Does that mean you think the kidnapping attempt was random?”
“It’s a definite possibility. We didn’t ask the sheriff if there’d been any similar cases reported in the area or across Texas,” he continued, and she liked the way he was thinking. If this wasn’t personal, she and Aubrey could be safer. Meg might not have to check the back seat of every car before she got inside or the closets before she went to bed at night. But then, those were habits she’d developed a long time ago and had never been able to shake.
After yesterday, Meg wondered if she’d ever truly feel safe again. “With the holidays around the corner, I read somewhere that infant abductions are more common.”
“People start realizing what’s missing in their lives and want to fill the gap. Your daughter is beautiful. Those two facts alone could make her a target,” he said. Was there reverence in his voice when he talked about Aubrey? “A sad fact of this time of year is that situations like these happen. People who are desperate to have a child are sometimes willing to pay any price without realizing what that might do to someone else. Some have no idea and don’t care how they get a baby, just that they get one.”
“How do you know all this?” Had he gone back to the sheriff last night?
“Started searching around on the internet last night when I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted. “Wanted to figure out a profile of someone capable of this. Thought that maybe I could help move the investigation along if I found the right information.”
“Did you call the sheriff?” She couldn’t hide her shock.
“Before the sun came up,” he admitted.
Meg grunted. She would’ve liked to have been a fly on that wall. “How’d Sawmill take that phone call?”
Wyatt cocked an eyebrow. “What makes you ask?”
“Most of my cases are outside of Cattle Barge and that’s one of the main reasons I live here. I like to keep work and home separate. But I’ve had a few—”
“Like the Garza one you talked about yesterday?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Most law-enforcement officers have a hard time with people they consider outsiders poking around in their business,” she said. “Many already feel they have constant eyes on them, be it citizens complaining or those cameras that both help and hurt them when they record everything that’s happening. Being an advocate for victims’ rights puts me across the table from law enforcement sometimes.”
“Which doesn’t faze you,” he said, but it came off as more question than statement.
“I’ve gotten used to being the opposition,” she admitted, and maybe that was another way to keep people at arm’s length. “Because the people I work on behalf of deserve someone strong sitting across from investigators who may have mishandled an investigation. Or don’t deserve to be subject to a law that offers more protection to the guilty person than the victim.”
“You’re passionate about your work.” This time, he was examining her like he was looking at her for the first time, and she didn’t want to acknowledge the sensual shivers skittering across her skin or the awareness causing her breath to catch.
She couldn’t afford to notice the hint of appreciation in his eyes, either.
“I can’t imagine wanting to be a mother so badly that you’d be willing to take a child from someone who loves her. The pregnancy caught me off guard and, believe me, I considered all my options more times than I care to admit. In the end, I decided to keep her—obviously—and hoped that I wouldn’t mess up being a mother too badly,” she admitted, a little unsure why she’d gone there. She hadn’t told a soul about her misgivings about parenting before, and she’d already spilled more about her work to him than she anyone in her past.
But, then, things had changed between them. This was Aubrey’s father now. Maybe a piece of her wanted him to get to know her so he wouldn’t be tempted to fight her for custody. If he saw how hard she worked and how much she cared for their child he’d be more compassionate.
Because when it came down to money, he had buckets more to spend on lawyers than she did. It also seemed like he was in the same boat since the parenting news had been dropped on him. And maybe that was another reason she started talking. She wished she’d had someone to lean on when her entire life had been turned upside down with the news. Part of her wanted him to know that she’d had a similar reaction.
Or maybe it was selfish and she felt he was the only other person in the world who could truly understand her feelings. They were the only two involved even if they were in different places. They were on opposite sides of the same boat, rowing toward some unknown future.
Aubrey deserved the best both had to offer.
There he was, studying her. There was something else in his eyes, too. Something that was familiar. Maybe intimate.
“Whatever else happens,” he started, and took a step toward her. Goose bumps sprouted on her arms, and she was very aware of how close they were now. “I know you’re an amazing mother. I can see how much you love her and she’s lucky because not every kid gets that.”
“She’s worth it.” If she looked into those steel eyes much longer she’d be in even bigger troub
le than she already was. Suddenly, the rim of her coffee cup became interesting.
Wyatt took another step toward her and she could see the tips of his boots as she focused on the tile floor. She felt his finger graze her chin as he urged her to look up.
She resisted at first because the heat pinging between them would give away her reaction to him and she didn’t want him to know how much her body missed the feel of him, of kissing him, of his weight on top of her while they made love. She took a step back but was stopped by the counter. He followed and by the time she looked up, she could see him angle his head as he brought his lips down to crash against hers.
The second their mouths touched, warning bells sounded, but they were muted by the heat rising between them as his body pressed against hers. There was so much heat in the kiss that she was rendered breathless. Fighting against her feelings was no use when he was this close. Besides, she had wanted this since seeing him again even though she knew better.
He dropped his hand to her waist and made a sexy little grunting noise against her mouth and Meg got lost.
Stephanie cleared her throat in the next room, an obvious attempt to let them know she was coming back.
Wyatt sidestepped and turned around to face her. Meg brought her coffee cup up to take a sip, thinking she liked the way it had tasted on Wyatt’s lips a few seconds ago, mixed with his toothpaste. Knowing those thoughts were dangerous.
Kissing him was a mistake, a distraction they couldn’t afford. She could feel his presence in every bit of her body, especially as it still hummed with electricity even after they’d broken physical contact.
“The doctor said he’d get the results to you in a couple of hours,” Stephanie said to Wyatt. Her voice was curt as she shot a warning look toward Meg. Her friend was watching out for her and Meg was grateful. The last thing she needed was to fall down that slippery slope of having feelings for Wyatt again. He’d been clear that he didn’t do long-term from the start.
Perfect, Meg had thought, because neither did she. Her heart had betrayed her, wishing for more than she knew better to expect.
A dull ache started forming between her eyes and she needed ibuprofen. She checked the pantry.
“Are we out of pain relievers?” she asked Stephanie.
“I took the last one yesterday,” Stephanie said. “Put them on the list for this week’s shopping, which isn’t doing you any good right now.”
Wyatt stood there cool as he could be with his legs crossed at the ankles and his hip leaning against the counter.
Meg’s heart fluttered like a trapped bird.
* * *
WYATT NEEDED TO find the brake pedal when it came to his attraction to Meg. Or at least downshift to Neutral. Kissing her was a big-time mistake and he tried to convince himself that it had more to do with all the other things in his life careening out of control. That it was a way of getting his hands back on the wheel and his backside in the driver’s seat. A grab-the-bull-by-the-horns approach to life. Because that had worked in the past. Anytime he’d had a hiccup—and there’d been plenty starting a business from the ground up—he’d faced his issues head-on.
Case in point, at the end of his first real expansion, when he’d moved to five taco stands, his manager, Tim McGowan, had decided to put his hand in the till. Tim had been the closest thing Wyatt had had to a close buddy, which made the betrayal sting all that more.
Turned out, Tim was selling items without ringing them up and blaming his employees for the inventory not matching the register receipts. Meanwhile, he was pocketing the difference. The worst part was that Tim was blaming a sixteen-year-old—a kid he’d hired—for messing up the balance sheet.
When Wyatt had first been alerted to the problem, he’d been back at home in Austin for the first time in six months, staring at an empty calendar and bed. He’d had the kind of exhaustion that made his eyelids feel like sandpaper rubbing against his eyeballs. And nothing seemed more important than pulling the sheet over his shoulders and hibernating for a solid week to catch up on sleep.
Tim had called to let him know he was checking into a problem that “the kid,” as he’d called Dwayne, had noticed. The minute something felt off with Tim, Wyatt didn’t hesitate to hop in his truck and head to Brunson Falls. He drove for five hours after filling his truck with gas even though he was personally on an empty tank. Caffeine and pit bull determination to be successful had been his fuel.
When he’d arrived at the Brunson Falls location he immediately knew something was off. Tim acted cagey and made a few inappropriate jokes. Wyatt had trusted a handful of people and Tim was one of them. It was clear to Wyatt now that his judgment had been off.
Trying to dim his attraction to Meg—even now after her out-of-the-blue announcement that he was the father of her child—should’ve dimmed his attraction to her. Facing it head-on was like pouring gasoline onto a raging fire, and his body was still having a reaction to standing so close to her. He’d blame it on autopilot or muscle memory, but he’d wanted to kiss her and he was a little too aware of the fact.
He grinned as he stared into his coffee cup.
Damn.
Time to refocus.
Locking onto Meg’s gaze almost caused him to rethink what he was about to say. Call it cowboy code, but he couldn’t walk away from Meg and her daughter while they were in danger. “Whether that kid is mine or not, I’m planning on sticking around until I know you’re both safe.”
A flicker of impatience crossed Meg’s eyes. He held up his hand to stop her from speaking. “I know what you’re about to say, and I have no doubt that you can take care of yourself and her. Think of me as insurance.”
“Is that why you rented the place next door?” Her bottom lip had a slight pout, the same one he’d seen before when she was frustrated.
“Yes. And I have other business in Cattle Barge to address,” he added.
Her cheeks were still flushed, her lips still full and pink. He fisted his free hand to stop it from reaching out to touch her again. Call it instinct, habit, muscle memory. Or maybe stupid was a better word because he’d learned a long time ago that touching a hot stove burned him, and yet there he’d been ready to do it again with Meg. If Aubrey turned out to be his child, he needed to keep a clear head and oven mitts handy. He had no plans to fan the flame burning between him and Meg.
“The fact that you’re a Butler?” Meg asked, and mention of that family went a long way toward that direction.
“I’ll never be a Butler,” he said low and under his breath. But he might actually be a father. The word caused his blood pressure to rise.
The timing of Aubrey’s birth was spot on from when they’d been together. He’d calculated the dates a dozen times last night. They’d been careful, like he always was, but he remembered a pair of times things got so hot and heavy between them neither noticed when the condom broke.
To be fair, either time could’ve resulted in pregnancy.
“It’s a big family,” Meg said, cutting into his heavy thoughts. “I’ve heard good things about them. They do a lot of charitable work in the community and seem like they really want to make a difference in people’s lives.”
Nothing good could come of his having Maverick Mike Butler as a father. “How well do you really know them?”
“I don’t. Just what I’ve seen in the news and on society pages. They seem to stick together, and I guess I wish Aubrey had that kind of support. All she has is me,” she said, and her honesty caught him off guard.
The baby cried from the next room and, before Meg could disappear, Stephanie was bringing the little girl to her mother. Stephanie went to work making a bottle while Meg soothed the infant.
If Aubrey turned out to be Wyatt’s daughter, she was going to have a helluva lot more than just Meg for support.
Finances wouldn’t be a problem, either. He’d be rea
dy and willing to take care of expenses, put them in a nicer house and newer SUV. His mind was already clicking through other financial needs the girl might have, like braces, dance classes and college.
Money was the easy part. The rest was barbed-wire complicated. Move too fast and the barbs would dig deeper into the skin. Fight against them, get the same result.
Thinking about Maverick Mike Butler, the man who’d donated his sperm, stirred emotions in Wyatt’s chest that he didn’t want to explore. Something hard, like a stone being tossed at him, nailed his gut every time Wyatt thought about the man.
What kind of father abandoned his own son? His thoughts went to Madelyn.
A dark thought struck. Would history repeat itself, only this time Wyatt would be the jerk dad pulling the disappearing act? Was he doomed by his DNA to be as big a letdown as the senior Butler had been?
The thing that bothered him the most in the past five years was the words his mother had said to him on her deathbed after he’d told her about his expansion plans. She’d beamed up at him with something that looked a lot like pride and said, “You’re going to be so successful. Just like your father. You remind me so much of him.”
How was that for shooting a lead arrow through his heart?
Wyatt reminded his own mother of the man who’d abandoned them both. Figuring out what that look of pride had been about had cost Wyatt countless nights of sleep, though he wasn’t much on sleep when he could be working instead.
Hold on a second. Why was he already clicking through all this in his mind, anyway? There’d only been a statement, not proof, that the little girl was his.
Was it because deep down he realized that Meg wasn’t the type to make a false accusation?
But that was no reason to lose his mind. He needed to think clearly in order to get to the bottom of this.
So, why did that child’s eyes haunt him so much?
A little voice said, Because they belonged to him.
