He had just said “we,” Rachel thought. Not that she would have to move, but that they would have to do it. Was he assuming that they were a couple now?
The thought both excited her as well as frightened her. She honestly didn’t know what side she was rooting for.
You’re getting carried away again, Rachel chided herself. This was just a nice evening out, nothing more. You have to remember that.
“Tell me the truth, did you have a nice time?” Wyatt asked her as he unlocked the car doors with one press of the button on his key fob.
“I had a wonderful time,” she told him without any reservations as she got into the vehicle.
In the car, Wyatt started it and began driving. Rachel’s reaction surprised him. “Even after meeting you-know-who?” he asked. They were at a light, which afforded him the opportunity to really look at her.
Laughter entered her eyes as she watched Wyatt studying her closely. The light changed and he was on the move again. She knew he was waiting for an answer.
“Even after that,” Rachel replied cheerfully.
Wyatt rolled her words over in his mind and decided that she was being sincere. He liked that about her. Liked the fact that she didn’t believe in playing games and was being straightforward.
“She took to you, you know,” Wyatt went on. “And that was without her attempting to drag you over the coals. I know you won Matt’s total admiration,” he told her. “One look at his face could tell you that.”
“They make a very nice couple,” she said. “I’m really glad that your mother didn’t wind up chasing him away.”
He nodded. “Well, not that she didn’t try, but yeah, they are good for each other.”
“And now they’re going to be parents,” she commented with a wide smile. “Have they been trying for a while?”
“Ever since the honeymoon ten years ago.” He thought for a moment. “Possibly before then, but I wouldn’t mention that to my mother if I were you,” he cautioned.
She turned toward him as he came to a stop at another light. Widening her eyes innocently, she asked him, “Mention what?”
“Attagirl,” he said, laughing. “Or should I say ‘attawoman’?”
“Labels have never bothered me—unless they’re meant to be insults,” she told him. She had corrected her father when he referred to her as a girl, but that was another matter entirely.
She could have sworn she saw something flicker across Wyatt’s face. Amusement? She wasn’t sure.
“I would never insult you,” he told her in all seriousness. And then he glanced at the clock on his dashboard. They were getting back to her place later than he had expected. “Think your father might be getting worried?” he asked. “Maybe you should give him a call.”
Her lips curved in an amused smile. “I can see why my father likes you so much. Don’t worry. We’ll be home soon,” she told him. “And besides, if I know my dad, he’s probably sacked out in front of the TV set, some old rerun playing in the background. He’s in his nostalgia period right now, but to be honest, it doesn’t matter what’s playing. Whatever it is, it’s almost guaranteed to put him to sleep.
“My dad is only firing on all four cylinders if he’s in the restaurant, presiding over his custom-made stove.
He heard the fondness in her voice. “You two really do get along, don’t you?”
“We’ve been an army of two ever since my mom passed away, so yes, we do. I have to admit that even before he had his heart attack, I was worried about leaving him on his own.”
“He’s got a full kitchen staff at his beck and call. The man is hardly alone. From what I saw, boss or not, there’s a great deal of affection for the man.”
“Yes, especially from Johanna,” she told him.
“Johanna... That would be the slender older woman who’s his assistant manager, right?” he asked.
“You really do pay attention to details, don’t you?” she marveled.
“I find that my patients appreciate me taking an interest not just in their disability and their progress, but their lives, as well.”
“How long did you say you’ve been doing this?” she asked him.
“The PT part, a few years. But on my own, for the last six months,” he answered.
“Did you just happen to fall into this, or did you always want to have you own physical therapy business?” she asked.
“You want my mother’s version, or mine?” he asked Rachel.
“Yours,” she answered. “Always yours.”
He liked the way that sounded. If his mother didn’t somehow manage to scare her away, they could very well have a future together, Wyatt mused.
He liked the way Rachel thought, the way she melded in with his family. He liked her.
Really liked her.
It almost stunned him. In all these years, he had never really taken to a woman the way he had to Rachel. She had passed the first hurdle. Meeting his mother hadn’t scared her off. With any luck, this might actually go somewhere.
“I always wanted to help people. PT seemed like the way to go,” he told her as he drove her home.
The trip was much too short in his opinion. “Well,” he said philosophically, “looks like I got you home in one piece.”
She grinned as she turned toward him, unbuckling her seat belt.
“Did you think that you wouldn’t?” she teased him.
“Actually,” he said as he parked his vehicle in her driveway, “I was more worried about the way you’d react meeting my mother.”
“Well, I’d say that she and I passed that test with flying colors,” she told him. “Anything else?”
He glanced toward the front of her house. “I still have to walk you to your door and get you inside.”
“I’m a big girl. I can get myself inside. But you can definitely walk me to my door if you want to.”
His eyes washed over her. There was enough moonlight for him to be able to make out all of her features. He could definitely feel his longing growing.
“Oh, I definitely want to,” he confirmed.
Helping her out of his car, Wyatt took hold of her arm and escorted her up to her door, assuming a leisurely pace.
When they reached her door, she turned around to look at him. Emotions escalated within her. Yearning was becoming a familiar companion. “Would you like to come in?”
“No. If I come in, that practically guarantees that you won’t go to bed for at least another half hour, if not longer. I don’t want to be responsible if you end up dragging all day tomorrow,” he told her, even though the words cost him. “We’ll just say good-night right here.”
She thought Wyatt meant just that. That he would leave her right here with only his parting words echoing in his wake.
Rachel didn’t want to throw herself at him, but she didn’t want the evening to end this way, either.
And while she was thinking about this, debating what move she could make, she suddenly felt his hands framing her face.
The next moment he brought his own down to it.
Her heart began to hammer the moment Wyatt’s lips touched hers.
Chapter Fifteen
His kiss was everything she had thought it would be.
And more.
So very much more.
Within moments, Rachel found herself getting lost in the feel of Wyatt’s lips against hers, lost in the promise that his mouth was creating within her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing up on her toes and drawing her body up against his almost urgently.
She sighed, enjoying every moment, every nuance that the imprint of his lips created within her.
Before this moment had ever come into fruition, she had thought she would enjoy this—hoped that she would enjoy this. But she’d had no idea it would send her sp
inning out of control the way it did.
* * *
Kissing Rachel created a wild excitement within his veins.
Until the sensation had exploded within him, taking him prisoner, Wyatt couldn’t have imagined that it would ever be like this.
Still framing her face, he found himself drowning in her taste, in her scent, in every single square inch of her.
If he wasn’t careful, Wyatt warned himself, he could very easily get carried away.
The kiss grew in intensity, making him want her more than he had ever wanted anyone. Wyatt was afraid that if he didn’t tear himself away right this instant, he really wouldn’t be able to when the time came.
So, exerting incredible control over himself, he drew his lips away and then took a step back.
He saw the quizzical look in her eyes, as if she was silently asking him why he was withdrawing.
“I need to pull away right now,” Wyatt told her in a husky whisper.
He felt it was only fair to give her that warning. He wasn’t prepared for the look that entered her eyes, which wasn’t fear or wariness. Instead, she asked him, “Would that be such a terrible thing?”
He nearly lost it then, nearly gave in to the emotions washing all through him. But then he drew refuge in humor. “It would be if your father decides he wants to make me disappear.”
“My father’s not like that,” she told him with a confident smile.
“Every father is like that when it comes to his daughter,” Wyatt said.
She was curious. He sounded like he spoke from experience. “And you know this how?” she asked Wyatt. Had she made a mistake letting herself fall for him? Was he a womanizer after all?
Somehow, she doubted it.
“I read a lot,” he deadpanned.
She regarded him for a long moment—and then she laughed. He was putting her on. She should have realized that.
“Of course you do,” she said, humoring him. Rachel felt herself wavering. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”
“No,” he answered honestly. “I’m not sure. But I know that I shouldn’t. Tell your dad I’ll see him tomorrow.” Wyatt paused for another moment, lightly brushing his lips against hers.
It was all he trusted himself to do.
“Will do,” she replied, watching him retreat toward where he had parked his vehicle.
She stood there for a little while longer, watching him get into his car and then pull out of the development, bound for home.
She was really going to have to watch her step, she told herself.
Rachel remained standing there until there was nothing left for her to watch. A smile flitted across her lips as she squared her shoulders and then walked inside the house.
She had fully expected to find her father asleep in front of the TV the way she had countless other evenings. Instead, she found him not only awake, but apparently eager for details about her evening.
Sitting up ramrod-straight, he asked her, “Did you have a good time?”
The sound of his voice coming out of the blue like that made her jump and swallow a yelp. Rachel placed her hand to her heart, pressing the pounding organ back into place.
“Sorry,” George apologized. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He looked at her more closely. “Everything all right?”
“Sure. Why shouldn’t it be?” she asked him perhaps a little too quickly.
“No reason,” he answered. “I just didn’t expect to see you home tonight. At least not until it was really late, actually.”
Rachel’s eyebrows drew together. “Why would you think that?”
A happy smile played on her father’s lips. “Well, for one thing, you’re a grown woman, and Wyatt is a very handsome young man.”
Was her father saying what she thought he was saying? That he had thought she would be sleeping with Wyatt? This was a whole new side to him, Rachel realized.
“Dad!” Rachel cried, surprised and a little taken aback.
“What do you mean?” he questioned his daughter. “It wasn’t as if I was born yesterday, or hiding under some rock.”
This was way too personal a topic to take up right now and she was in no mood to discuss this with her father. Johanna maybe, but definitely not her father. The man had already had one heart attack. She had no intentions of giving him a second one.
“I’m tired, Dad, and I’m going to bed,” Rachel announced.
“Tired?” George repeated, brightening. His smile was almost blinding. “Oh, so then you did—”
He was definitely not acting the way she thought he would.
“Good night, Dad. And for your information, I didn’t,” she informed him tersely before he could finish his question. “See you in the morning.”
“All right,” he agreed. “Maybe you’ll be more inclined to talk to me tomorrow,” her father said to her hopefully.
“Still won’t be anything to talk about then,” she informed her father.
George shook his head. “You do know that you’re every bit as stubborn as your mother ever was, don’t you?” he asked her, not for the first time—or the hundredth. “Maybe even more so.”
“So you keep telling me,” Rachel remarked, a resigned smile curving her lips.
“So,” her father said, putting his hands on the padded sofa arms and then pushing himself up to his feet. “You didn’t answer my question,” he reminded her. “Did you have a good time?”
There was no reason not to admit to that, as long as he didn’t grill her. “Yes, I did,” she told him, thinking that would be the end of it.
But she was wrong.
“Were they nice to you?” he asked her.
It didn’t take much to figure out who her father was referring to. “Yes, Dad,” she told him with a sigh. “They even let me join in all the reindeer games,” Rachel said glibly.
“You don’t have to get smart, you know,” her father chided.
“Yes, I do,” she answered, her eyes sparkling. “If I want to keep up with you.”
George gave up, shaking his head. “I think that it is time for you to be going off to bed,” he told her dismissively.
Rachel smiled at him. As far as she was concerned, she had won this round.
“I totally agree,” she answered, barely stifling a yawn. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He answered her with the old saying that he used to tell her when she was a little girl. It was like their personal code.
“Not if I see you first.”
George’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. Her less than informative exchange still told him what he wanted to know. That she’d really had a good time.
He felt heartened.
He had made the right choice, turning the matter of finding someone for his daughter over to Maizie in the first place.
With any luck, he mused, he would be dancing at his daughter’s wedding before the year was out.
After he’d had his heart attack, his principal concern was that Rachel would be taken care of if something did happen to him.
Only then would he be able to relax. Because at that point, if she did have a husband, or at least someone she cared about in her life, it didn’t really matter what became of him.
That fine young man would watch out for her, he thought as he made his way up the stairs,
George was smiling as he got into bed.
* * *
Rachel had been certain that she would immediately drop off to sleep the moment she crawled into bed and pulled the covers up.
But she had thought wrong.
It seemed as if her body and her mind were conspiring against her, inexplicably rousing her every time she was about to drift off to sleep. It was then that her mind would completely fill up with thoughts that insis
ted on setting her body on fire.
After twenty minutes of unsuccessful attempts to fall asleep, Rachel sat up and dragged her hand through her hair.
This was ridiculous.
Thoughts of Wyatt played through her head, taunting her with visions of what might have been if he hadn’t stepped back and she had taken him up on the silent promise his body had made.
No, she chided herself. She couldn’t just hop into bed with the first good-looking man who smiled at her and made her body sizzle because he had kissed her. There had to be more to it than that.
How would you know if there’s more if you don’t give it a chance? Rachel asked herself.
She had no answer for that.
Tossing and turning as she searched for a comfortable spot, Rachel finally fell asleep several hours later.
Just before dawn.
* * *
When the morning came, she woke up to find that she was even more exhausted than when she had first fallen asleep.
But there was no time for her to stay in bed and try to grab a few more winks of sleep. She had to get up. Rachel wanted to make a hasty escape before her father declared that breakfast was waiting and definitely before Wyatt showed up to give her father his physical therapy session.
Despite her good intentions, she wound up bumping into Wyatt just as she was about to make a hasty exit.
“Wow,” Wyatt said, taking a long look at her face. She looked really tired, he thought, instantly feeling guilty. He should have brought her home earlier. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
“Some,” she answered with a careless shrug. It was a lie and they both knew it.
“You do know that if you lie, your nose is going to grow, right?” Wyatt asked her, watching her face intently as he walked into the foyer.
“My nose is my own affair,” she told him dismissively. And then she realized how that had to have sounded to him. She wasn’t usually that curt. “Sorry, my father already gave me the third degree when I walked in last night. I’m afraid that he set the tone for the rest of the night—and, it looks like, the following day, as well.”
The Late Bloomer's Road to Love Page 13
