by Andrea Thome
Wyatt pushed himself off the rail and ambled over to where Violet and Rex were waiting. He nodded his thanks and then murmured something about not being much for public speaking, but India didn’t even try to make out what he was saying.
Because the whole time, he was staring right at her like she was going to be his dinner. There was no fighting the blush this time; she could only hope that the candlelight would dim the effect. It probably hadn’t, though, because the minute she felt it bloom across her face, Wyatt gave her an almost imperceptible smile and then turned the remarks back over to his friends.
Water. Water would be a great idea right now. Where are the waiters with water?
She was thinking in alliterations now.
Damn it.
OK, find a reason to move around, she thought. Find the table with your name card, she decided. India folded back into the crowd and made her way to the table that held the seating placards. She spent a moment finding hers, then turned around to head to her table. She stopped short at the sight of him, just there, in front of her.
“We meet again,” Wyatt said with a wry smile.
India felt an involuntary shudder sweep across her bare shoulders, despite the warm evening air. He looked like he had just stepped out of the pages of the GQ Rugged Man edition. Upon closer inspection, his wavy hair had the tiniest dusting of pepper and the curls had been tamed with something that smelled out of this world. Since she last saw him in the garden, he’d changed into a plaid shirt, worn under a weathered-looking jacket, and an unbelievable pair of jeans.
Oh, the jeans.
Other men should stop wearing them. They could never compete.
The stubble along his jawline moved as he smiled at her, flashing that single dimple and watching with obvious satisfaction as she gave him the same once-over that he’d given her a few moments earlier.
He snapped her back to attention with that voice.
“India, I want to assure you, this opportunity came as a complete surprise to me. I never intended to become your new best friend this week. Violet and Rex approached me just this afternoon with the idea of teaching with them, and although I realized right away that it might be a little weird for you, I couldn’t say no to them. They’re the two people in this world who have always been there for me. So this is about that, not about me stalking you.”
He paused, lowering his chin to aim his gaze more directly into her eyes and said, “Although I’m not going to pretend I’m disappointed to have the opportunity to spend a little more time with you.”
He took a step closer and then reached around her, inadvertently brushing his arm against hers as he searched for his place card from the table. The scent of him was heady stuff, and she skittered back a few feet to provide him a wider berth, and to try to get her goose bumps to disappear before he noticed them. He was catnip, and she was acting like a depraved alley cat. She had to regroup here.
“Oh, it’s fine, I didn’t think anything of it,” she assured him with a dismissive wave of her hand.
When he appeared to question her denial with a crooked eyebrow, she quickly added, “I mean, I was surprised to hear about your photography credentials, considering we discussed the workshop this morning and you didn’t mention them, but I guess maybe you didn’t feel like getting too deep with a stranger. It’s cool. I look forward to learning from you, though; it sounds like you’ve got the chops to make this one heck of a workshop. I’m sure I’ll learn a lot.”
He looked surprised at her rebuff. India knew exactly the effect she was having.
She finished him off with a chilly, “Hey, have a fun time tonight. And great speech, by the way,” patting the top of his arm in a sisterly gesture to add insult to injury.
With that, she whirled around, and zigzagged her way between the tables until she found her assigned seat. India was relieved to find herself flanked by a buxom woman who looked to be in her late forties and a burly man with a long white beard. Wyatt, who she noticed out of the corner of her eye was still smarting from her blow-off, had sulked his way to an adjoining table, situating himself in his spot across from Violet and next to Rex.
India sat down, adjusted her napkin, and proceeded to have great conversations with her tablemates. Jeff, the bearded gentleman, was from Austin, and he was already a fairly accomplished photographer, as the owner of a full time in a vintage camera shop in the artsy Texas town. They chatted about their respective equipment, and he promised to take a look at what India had collected for herself over the years and make some recommendations to her during class tomorrow. While she found their conversation stimulating, she couldn’t help stealing occasional glances at Wyatt.
Every time she looked, he seemed to be engrossed in serious conversation with his friends. She felt a small seed of panic rise up. She hadn’t meant to be such a bitch, but she’d had to do something to change the momentum. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea; she was here to work on herself, not play games. She’d gotten good over the years at deflecting, and after her latest epic romantic fiasco, she’d fallen right back in to her old pattern of dodge and run. This was ground she knew how to cover.
India sighed and gamely turned her attention to her other dining companion, the well-heeled redhead on her left. Annabelle had left her husband at home in Atlanta this trip, bringing her daughter, Virginia, instead. Both women sported colossal diamonds on their ring fingers, but they didn’t appear to spend much of their free time thinking about their better halves. Instead, they had fixated on Wyatt, making it difficult for India to continue her attempted strategy of completely ignoring him.
“I swear, that man is absolutely darling. How lucky are we to get to spend the week with such a specimen?”
It was a little difficult to understand Annabelle; maybe it was the accent, or perhaps it was because her voluptuous mouth was pinched into a manmade trout pout. Virginia understood her mother perfectly, however, and nodded in robust agreement.
“He is delicious,” she purred in fluent Georgia peach. “Don’t think I won’t maneuver my way into his . . . class . . . this week.” She winked at her mother, and they both chortled. India’s appetite vanished in an instant.
Poor Wyatt. He was going to be eaten alive by these predators. She instinctively glanced back over at him, and this time, he was focused right on her. They locked gazes as he picked up his wineglass, and then he continued his conversation without missing a beat.
“I don’t know what’s made you so irritable, Wyatt,” Violet said, clearly surprised by his behavior so far during dinner. “I mean, you shouldn’t have said yes if you meant no,” she whispered with an exasperated sigh. “And what do you keep scowling at?” Violet followed his gaze over her shoulder to the graceful-looking blonde woman with rosy cheeks who was sitting at the next table. The woman caught Violet’s glance and hurriedly busied herself with cutlery, her blush deepening.
Violet swung back around and looked at Wyatt.
“Wyatt, do you know that woman?”
Then it dawned on her. He did know her, somehow. And, astonishingly, Violet knew her too. She watched India every morning while she fixed Sadie’s breakfast. She studied Wyatt’s face for any sign that he knew who India really was but decided that he was oblivious.
Wasn’t that interesting?
He’d definitely get spooked if he found out she’d just called off the wedding of the year. Better to keep that morsel to herself for now. This was the kind of woman Wyatt needed: strong, independent. And it didn’t look like chemistry would be a problem.
Violet knew raw attraction when she saw it, and she’d seen Wyatt like this before. Problem was, he always morphed into asshole Wyatt almost immediately, so any woman who looked his way would get turned off and leave him alone. Not this time. Not so fast.
Wyatt watched the realization play across Violet’s face, and panicked. Damn. She knew. Now he was in deep trouble. Rex nudged Wyatt in the shoulder and shook his head.
“Brother, y
ou should know better than to show your hand like that. Have I taught you nothing?”
Violet kicked Rex under the table, smiling sweetly when he reached down to rub his shin. She’d show these two knuckleheads. Violet had waited a long time for this opportunity, and here it had simply fallen into her lap like a gift.
“I just met her briefly this morning, and I’m not scowling at her. I don’t know enough about her to scowl. I’m just . . . I’m just adjusting to the idea that my whole life is about to change. I said I’d stay, and I will. Just give me some time to make the adjustment. Now quit chirping at me and eat your dessert.” Wyatt knew he was rambling, the same way he knew Violet could see through him like no one else. It was over.
She would have her bow and arrow dusted off, ready to play Cupid before the week was over.
And the way he was staring at India?
Violet smiled.
It would be like shooting fish in a barrel.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
After dinner, the festivities shifted out to a spot near the pond, where the staff had staged a roaring bonfire, complete with wooden rocking chairs and flickering tin lanterns. The woolen blankets draping the chairs were a nice touch, but the evening was still warm enough, so most guests didn’t use them. A bluegrass band was set up using the woods as a backdrop, and the pleasing sounds of the fiddle added a welcome gaiety to the event.
There was a rustic wooden table set near the fire, with all the fixings for s’mores sprawled out across it. India circled around the back side, making a play for the beverage end of the table instead. Coffee with Baileys would be just the thing to ease her jangled nerves.
It had been more of the same from the mother-daughter team, who had all but mentally undressed and had their way with Wyatt during dessert. India tried very hard not to slap some sense into one or both of them, since they were making it impossible for her to think about anything but Wyatt. She hadn’t looked back at him for the rest of the meal, but she could feel his burning gaze lighting up her traitorous cheeks even without visual confirmation.
India grasped her coffee and was already looking forward to an early exit so she could enjoy the stroll back to the cottage, when she saw Violet approaching her with a friendly smile.
“I’ve been trying to get around to everyone to say hello, but we seem to keep missing each other.”
Violet placed a gentle hand on India’s arm and gestured toward the steaming cup in her hand.
“I see we’re gonna get along just fine, though.” She grinned, reaching for her own cup. “This stuff is the best part about dinner at the Yallerhammer. Well, that and the cute mandolin player in the band.” She winked.
India looked over and noticed that Rex was sitting in on this song, “The Lighthouse’s Tale,” which was one of her favorites.
“He grew up in a musical family. I swear he can play about ten different instruments. He’s definitely handy at parties,” she finished with a smile.
India could see why Wyatt loved Violet; she was as friendly and kind as she was beautiful. She looked like something out of those magazines back on India’s coffee table at home, with her flowing hair and perfect skin, which had only been kissed with a hint of makeup. She stood eye to eye with India, which was rare, even with India wearing her flat riding boots.
An outsider might think that these two women shouldn’t be allowed to stand together; it unfairly stacked the deck for the rest of the ladies at the gathering. All of that imposing beauty in one place. Violet gestured for India to follow her to a couple of rockers sitting at the outskirts of the fire.
“So what brings you to Blackberry Farm?” Violet asked. “Well, besides this spectacular photography workshop!”
India laughed softly, fiddling with the top of her cup. As she began to speak, it occurred to her that she’d better be careful about how much she shared. She valued the anonymity she knew she could enjoy here if she played it close to the vest.
“I was supposed to be spending the week with my best friend, but her daughter got sick at the last minute, so it’s just me.”
India shrugged her shoulders.
“It’s OK, though. I don’t get a lot of alone time where I live, and my job is pretty demanding, so I figured I should take advantage of this opportunity.”
She turned toward Violet.
“Your workshop is the best part, though. I’ve always been interested in being on this side of the camera,” she said.
India paused, catching the slip, and looked up to see if Violet had noticed. It was obvious she had.
“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me,” Violet assured her. “No one here has to know who you are unless you decide to tell them.” She leaned in to India, lowering her voice before adding, “But I mean, come on. I have a three-year-old, and we play Barbies while we watch you almost every morning. There aren’t many mommies who wouldn’t recognize you in an instant. Lucky for you, most of the guests here are either retired or young couples that work hard and play hard. They don’t have time for morning television. You should be able to fly under the radar, for once.”
She paused and, seeing India’s obvious relief, added, “I hope that brings you some peace.”
India sighed deeply, relieved because Violet knew who she was but clearly wasn’t going to bring up the whole wedding fiasco. India thanked her, and the women sat together in comfortable silence for a few moments.
“So, about Wyatt,” Violet started.
India’s head snapped up.
Violet grinned. “Funny, he had the same reaction when I asked about you at dinner. Don’t worry. If my radar is any good, he doesn’t have a clue about your job, or anything else about you.” Violet gazed out over the fire, then back to India. “If you don’t mind me asking, though, how did you two meet?”
Violet took a sip of the steaming coffee, waiting for India to fill in the blanks.
India was thoughtful for a moment. “I was caught off guard at the airport this morning when I found out that Julia—my friend—wasn’t going to make it. In a moment of weakness, I got a little weepy—classic public meltdown. Anyway, Wyatt happened to be nearby and offered his help. Long story short, he heard I was headed here, so he offered me a ride. That’s it. That’s really the whole story.”
She turned to scan the other guests, instinctively looking for Wyatt, and found him sitting on top of a picnic table holding a rocks glass filled with something. He was talking to Rex, who had finished up his set with the band and had rejoined his friend. As if Wyatt somehow felt her sizing them up, he turned and met her gaze from across the fire pit. He didn’t look away, instead mumbling something to Rex, who chuckled and punched him in the shoulder good-naturedly. Wyatt rewarded India with that grin once more and then turned his attention back to Rex.
India hated herself for getting caught staring at him again. Feeling predictable, she bristled silently.
“You know, something did bother me about Wyatt. I mentioned to him earlier that I was attending your workshop this weekend, and while he sang your praises as a teacher, he failed to mention his own credentials. I find that strange.” It still puzzled and irritated her that he hadn’t been forthcoming when he’d had the chance.
Violet turned toward India and began to speak with great fondness about her friend. “Wyatt is an amazingly talented man, but he’s been alone for a long time, so his social skills can be a little rusty.”
It was obvious Violet cared about him.
“Don’t hold it against him. I’m sure if you’d had more time together, he would have shared that piece of his story with you. Believe me. I’ve known him a long time, and he is one of the kindest, most honest, most genuine people I know. He’s not the kind of man who plays games. I honestly don’t think he would know how. He’s suffered a lot for someone so young.” Violet paused, considering her next words carefully.
“But that’s his story to tell. I will say, I truly believe he’s finally ready to try to figure out w
hat’s next for him, but he’s not sure where to begin.”
India felt bad about being harsh with him earlier. It made sense to her now. She wondered how a man like Wyatt had managed to remain alone for so long, and why. She looked back at Violet. “I understand. Plan B can be a real bitch.”
They nodded in silent agreement, sipping their coffees, as the logs crackled in the dying fire.
“If you want to go talk to her, why don’t you move your ass and tell my wife to beat it?” Rex slapped Wyatt on the shoulder and nudged him over to make room for himself at the picnic table. He handed Wyatt a glass. “Single malt, old enough to get the job done.” He snickered. Wyatt clinked glasses with Rex in a wordless toast.
Rex let out a whistle. “Seriously, I’m surprised you’re letting Vi have all that unsupervised face time with her. Who knows what she’s saying about you.” Rex sported a Cheshire grin as Wyatt squirmed uncomfortably at the thought.
Wyatt returned his attention to the women and found India once again looking directly back at him.
“Damn,” he muttered to Rex. “I think I might be in over my head with her. It’s been a long time, bro. Obviously too long.”
Rex elbowed his friend, and they broke into comfortable laughter. Wyatt smiled at her again, in spite of himself, before turning away to try to preserve a shred of his dignity.
Rex paused and then said what they were both thinking. “Maybe it’s finally time, Wyatt. Do you think you could get out of your own way for once?”
The musicians wrapped up their final song, and the few guests that were left around the bonfire stood to call it a night.
Wyatt decided it was now or never. Rex was right. Wyatt knew she’d walked to the pavilion from her cottage; he’d been waiting and watching for her when she’d arrived.
He stood up and motioned for Rex to follow him. He let out a breath and then headed over to where Violet and India were saying their good-byes. As they approached, both women turned their way, Violet smiling, and India watching them curiously.
