Making Her Mine (Finding Love Book 1)

by Heather Young-Nichols

  Making Her Mine

  A Finding Love Novella

  Copyright © 2018 by Heather Young-Nichols

  Cover Art by Colbert Creative Design LLC

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Zoey

  I tossed my head back along with the clumps blond hair that had fallen in my face then blew out a large breath to try to get my bangs off my sticky forehead. This was so gross. Winter in Michigan wasn’t supposed to be so hot and when I stepped outside it for sure wouldn’t be.

  I didn’t want to be stuck in the garage with the heat turned up to the scorching level of hell with my brother insisting I learn the basics of car maintenance or die trying. I told him that’s what mechanics were for but saying that only got me a hard noogie to the head. Riley was serious on the or die trying part because the heat just might have killed me if I stayed in there too long. He wanted that garage to be the tropics in the middle of winter.

  “Come on, Zo, it’s changing a tire not rebuilding a motor,” my brother, Riley, said sounding more exasperated with me than I was him but that couldn’t be possible. Riley used a shop rag to wipe the sweat from his forehead and neck. Gross.

  I wanted to waterboard him with the gas from one of the spare cans. It was like being held hostage at this point. He’d called me out there over an hour ago and the only thing we’d accomplished was the sweaty, smelly aroma around me. The tire hadn’t moved an inch and honestly, I thought he’d actually tightened it a little each time I couldn’t get it loose.

  Why does someone need the heat so fucking high?

  “You’re using the tire iron like a girl,” he said.

  “I am a girl, Asshole.”

  “Language, language. You’ve got some mouth on ya.”

  “Haven’t had any complaints about it yet.” I gave him my best sassy smirk.

  “Oh god.” He bent over, hands on his knees, pretending to gag. His whole body jerked like he was having a major seizure. Until finally he stood straight. “What would Mom think of that?” he asked with mocked outrage.

  Ok, maybe for him it wasn’t mocked.

  “Why don’t we go ask her?” I jabbed a thumb toward the house, more than ready to give up.

  I should’ve been apartment hunting instead of spending this time with my brother trying to change a flat tire. Looking for my own place and getting the hell out of my parents’ house held a lot more appeal then dying the garage on a cold winter day. I loved my parents but living with them again had never been part of the plan and felt too oppressive after being on my own for most of the last four years.

  In fact, coming back to my hometown wasn’t even on the radar once I graduated from college. But since I hadn’t found a job anywhere else, even with the better part of a year trying and the part-time positions weren’t enough to pay the bills, I hadn’t had a choice. I needed the paycheck.

  My dad and Riley promised to help financially until my job as a high school English teacher started in March. I hated needing the help and promised myself to stop the aid as soon as humanly possible.

  Teachers didn’t normally start a new school in the last third of the year but the teacher I’d be replacing died. You can’t plan for that and the school had been making due with a long-term sub. As soon as that contract expired, I’d jump in. The position fell into my lap kind of perfectly, minus the death part, even if it meant moving back home.

  “Maybe I should go shopping. Apartment hunting. Donate a kidney. Something a little more fun than this,” I offered.

  “Damn it, Zoey. You’re doing this.”

  “Why are you so bossy?”

  “Lots of practice. Try again.” He pointed at the tire again.

  I groaned and bent down to fit the tire iron back on the lug nut with absolutely no hope of loosening it.

  Riley left home right after his high school graduation to enlist in the Marines. We stayed close even though I’d only been and sometimes was deployed. He’d call whenever he could and said my letters while he was in Afghanistan helped him keep a level head. Helped him remember he had someone he loved back home. After he got out he decided to open a mechanic shop. He’d always been good with mechanical things and after the service had the experience.

  “Come on, Zoey,” Riley prodded again. “You don’t want to be reliant on some fucking guy your whole life, do you? What happens if you get a flat in the middle of the night on the highway?”

  “Um, call you?” I smiled up at him widely.

  “Try again.” He pointed back at the tire as he backed up toward the door. His hair was just as damp as mine so if he went outside I figured it’d freeze to his head. Served him right.

  I could’ve slinked away once he left but Zoey Goodrich didn’t slink. Fitting the iron on the lug nut once again, I tried with everything I had but the damn thing still wouldn’t move.

  That was it. I wanted to give up for real.

  I popped straight up and decided to go look for Riley. He couldn’t keep me there like a prisoner. I’d been humoring him because I liked hanging out with him but he could never know that. Since he wasn’t in the garage with me, I went to look inside the house.

  “Hey, Riley,” I called out as I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. “I don’t think I have the body weight to make this work. I’ll have to be content to asking for help.”

  The tall man standing next to my brother in the dining room made me want to swallow those words back down my throat. His russet hair, messier than it had been the last time I saw him and his dark eyes could still see right through me and make my knees weak. He shouldn’t have been able to affect me so many years later, yet my heart speeding up and a new kind of sweat dotted my forehead.

  At first I refused to believe it was the man that flipped my eighteen-year-old heart on its axis four years ago. That could not be a plausible reality for me. Him back after all this time? It had to be someone else even though I could clearly see it wasn’t.

  Three steps closer confirmed it. As if I needed less distance between us to know it was Wyatt McCann, my brother’s best friend standing in my parents’ dining room.

  He’d put on probably thirty pounds of muscle since I’d last seen him. His waist still narrowed and his arms were still the strongest part of him. The swimmer’s body I’d always loved. Those broad shoulders looked like they could carry the weight of the world. Maybe they had. I wouldn’t know because it’d been over four years since we’d spoken.

  “Hey there, Small Fry.” Wyatt McCann’s trademark smirk as his eyes traveled from my face down them back again made me want to punch him in the face. Though, logically, I knew I’d be the only one hurt during that transaction.
<
br />   That look made a girl want to commit violence against his shins if not more sensitive parts of his body. But with his height, shins and balls were about all I’d be able to reach. I determined not to think about any of that but fuck, I still wanted to do it.

  If I did anything out of the ordinary with him, Riley would know that something had happened between the two of us. Not that there was something between them, or ever really had been. Ugh, I wanted to kick my own ass now. The heat of crimson edging its way onto my cheeks would give away where my thoughts had drifted if either of them cared enough to look closely. Damn it, it had only been a kiss.

  “Don’t call me that,” I finally said back more out of habit than anything else although this time I added a hard edge. It wasn’t exactly intentional.

  “Calm down, Zoey,” Riley gave me that chastising brother look with his eyebrows squished down yet his mouth pulled back so I rolled my eyes. “Give the guy a break. He just got back.”

  I didn’t need my brother to tell me that Wyatt had been deployed again a few months ago. That seemed to be a constant loop of him leaving, coming back for a while, stationed further away, then deployed again. Thankfully, I’d never been back home when he’d come to town.

  I bit the inside of my cheek before saying, “Sorry. Glad you didn’t die.” Then I hauled ass away from them. Standing in front of the man who’d once been the center of my every thought while being sweaty and gross was likely to cause me to die of embarrassment.

  There had been an image in my head for years that if I ever saw Wyatt McCann again, I’d be dressed to bring a man to his knees. Make him see what he’d once walked away from. Unfortunately, that wasn’t my luck. When he showed up I was in jeans that were too big, a T-shirt that had seen better days, and hair matted to my head.

  I ran up to the bathroom attached to my bedroom and hopped in the shower. Slightly cold shower because that man caused liquid heat to pool between my legs just by being there. Unlike anyone else I’d ever met, Wyatt turned me on. Even though I despised him. Probably especially because I despised him.

  With school and his deployments, I’d been able to avoid him for the last four years. If only that had continued.

  The night of my high school graduation party went down in history as the most humiliating of my life thanks to Wyatt McCann. When things happened in college that other girls cried over, I’d ask herself, “Was it as humiliating as that night with Wyatt?” If the answer was no, I got over it. Moved on.

  The answer had never been yes.

  Chapter Two

  Wyatt

  Fuck me. When I told my mother I’d spend the summer living at home since we’d barely seen each other over the past eight years, the last time being my father’s funeral a year and a half ago, I didn’t expect Zoey Goodrich to be back in town. Through Riley, I knew she’d graduated from college last May but Riley wasn’t chatty when it came to his sister and like hell I could ask.

  Would never ask.

  I’d been on leave four years ago and had promised Zoey I’d stop by her graduation party. I was proud of the girl and if I’m being honest, really wanted to see her. That afternoon turned into night and the night turned into the sweetest moment I’d experienced in my life. Remembering that moment made me wonder if she still tasted like cherry due to whatever it was girls smeared across their lips to make them shiny. Every chance I’d gotten, I’d opt for something cherry flavored. Slushes, pie, it really didn’t matter. It was torture just to be reminded of that night. The best kind.

  She still looked almost the same. A little older, sure. A little more mature in the way she carried herself and there was something different about her hair. It was still long and blonde enough to make her look like an angel and those blue eyes were just as big, innocent even. Though she had a bit of a naughty glint in there now, too.

  Fuck. I wanted to know what that glint meant. Her skin looked just as soft and silky as she had at eighteen and damn it his fingers ached to find out if that was true.

  “Let’s go back outside,” Riley said and nodded toward the door. I followed as we wandered back through the cold. “So you’re out for good?” Riley asked bring my mind off Zoey and back to the present.

  “Yup. Don’t know what I’m going to do but Mom’s alone now.”

  “I never thought there’d be a time you didn’t re-up. Hey—” Riley clasped me on the shoulder and hauled me through the garage door. “The shop is opening in a couple of weeks. You always have a job there if you want it.” We both glanced down to the abandoned tire iron. “Besides, it looks like I’m going to need help with Zoey. She might be able to string words together but her English major didn’t teach her how to change a tire. She still needs some looking after.”

  Riley went to work on the tire because it did actually need to be changed. I leaned back against the nearby table watching my best friend work. Working on cars wouldn’t be so bad. Looking after Zoey on the other hand…

  “What do you say?” Riley asked bringing me out of my own head once again.

  “Sorry, what?” I asked because I’d obviously missed something he’d said. Distracted by Zoey Goodrich again.

  “Dinner tonight. Mom and Dad would love to see you.”

  Giving a nod, I began questioning that decision right away. Riley gave me the name of the restaurant in Detroit before I could change my mind and said they were meeting at seven. I just went with it and needed to get out of there before beauty personified returned to fuck with my head.

  Over the next few hours, I’d grabbed my phone more than once to shoot off a text telling Riley I couldn’t make dinner. Something stopped me each time whether it had been that I actually wanted to see Zoey or I didn’t want to cancel on my best friend.

  Worse than seeing her at the house was sitting at the table with the Goodrich family, who I’d known my entire life, waiting for Zoey to show up so we could order. Mr. and Mrs. Goodrich welcomed me with open arms when I’d arrived which sort of made me miss my own dad. But I pushed all those depressing thoughts out of my head. That’s the way life was. One day you’re schlepping away at your day job, the next someone hits a deer on the highway sending it through the windshield killing you instantly. A person didn’t have to go halfway across the world to find danger.

  “Zoey sent a text saying she’s on her way in. Traffic, she said.” Riley shoved his phone back in his pocket.

  I really wanted to ask where she’d been but I kept my mouth firmly shut. Good thing, too because right then I caught a glimpse of Zoey coming through the restaurant and a breath stumbled in my chest.

  She headed right toward us like a heat seeking missile that had more effect on me than anyone else. Her five feet and two inches given added height with four-inch stiletto heels that I tried not to picture digging into my ass.

  Christ, McCann.

  She wasn’t dressed for a fun night out. She was dressed to impress and even though I shouldn’t have I hoped it was me she was trying to impress. That should’ve been the last thing I hoped for. The black pencil skirt stopped right above her knees and hugged every curve her small frame possessed. Those red shoes matched her red top with three buttons undone and the blonde hair that had been messy in the garage earlier, now laid in soft curls past her shoulders.

  I much preferred the messy look but this completely put together thing she had going on gave me a whole new set of ideas. Ideas that might mean me coming home was just as terrible an idea as I thought it might’ve been back when I made it.

  While she said hello to her family, her voice became drowned out by the rush of blood in my ears as it left my head to pool somewhere else. Somewhere much further down. No girl got me as hard as quickly as Zoey Goodrich. It’d been that way since we were teenagers. Her frame may have been small, but she’d grown into it. The curve of her hip was the first tip-off that while she still looked young, she was now a full grown woman.

  “Now I know you didn’t get dressed up just for us,” Mrs. Goodrich finall
y broke through the haze of lust that had taken me over.

  “I needed to fill out paperwork at the school board office. Had to look the part of a teacher.”

  “You don’t look like any teacher we ever had,” I said before I could stop myself.

  Luckily, everyone let the comment pass as if I hadn’t said it at all. Instead, they focused on me being back home and my service.

  Except Zoey. She didn’t say anything during my interrogation. Riley helped me dodge most of the questions because neither of us liked to talk about the shit we’d seen or done. Some things were best left back in the sand.

  “Were you ever shot?” Zoey asked out of nowhere.

  At first I considered not answering her but the look on her face and I knew I had no choice. Since I didn’t trust my voice, I nodded instead.

  “Wait,” she sat up straighter, “You were shot?” I’d swear her face paled three shades.

  “Just a flesh wound,” I said with a shrug.

  “Where?”

  “Here.” I tapped my left arm. “You seem concerned.” Zoey squirmed in her seat and sipped on what was now her third glass of wine. Not that I was keeping track…

  “Not at all,” she finally answered. “I’ve just never known anyone who’s been shot.”

  It took everything in my power to not look over at Riley because the rest of the table would see the question on my face. I definitely wasn’t the only one at the table who’d been shot.

  “Actually,” Zoey continued. “I was kind of hoping the bullet hit your dick.”

  The sound of multiple people choking on their drinks filled the immediate area around our table as I suppressed the urge to laugh. That was the first time I heard a little of the Zoey I’d left behind. Instead, I hid the smile I couldn’t control by scrubbing a hand across my jaw.

  “Zoey Goodrich! I know I raised you better than that,” her mother chastised.

  “Yes, but you also let me hang out with two guys who became Marines, Mother.”