All Romance The Bad Boy’s Guilt by Sara Daniel 2 The Bad Boy’s Guilt Copyright © 2016 by Sara Daniel Cover art by Kim Killion All rights reserved. Exc...
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All Romance
The Bad Boy’s Guilt by Sara Daniel
The Bad Boy’s Guilt Copyright © 2016 by Sara Daniel Cover art by Kim Killion All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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All Romance
The Bad Boy’s Guilt by Sara Daniel
Table of Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine The Bad Boys of Regret Hollow Series About the Author
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Chapter 1 Nicole DeMonde expected to regret her idiotic high school mistakes as she returned to her hometown for her brother’s wedding. She didn’t expect to regret renting the little red sports car at the airport. Steam or maybe smoke rose from under the hood, morphing into a billowing cloud as she tried to restart the engine. Her already jumpy stomach turned a sickening flip. The town hadn’t gotten the name Regret Hollow for nothing. Shoving her thick auburn hair over one shoulder, she rummaged in her purse for her cell phone and dialed the rental company. After suffering through ten minutes of apologies, she tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and stared at the house three doors up the block. She’d only intended to drive by and check out the place where her lying ex-con father lived. Instead, she’d practically stopped in front of his house. He’d be the last guy she’d ever ask for help. She could call her brother to rescue her. Although Zane had begun to deal with the baggage Dad had saddled them with, she couldn’t ask him to pick her up in front of their old man’s house. She could, however, walk to the church and arrive early for the rehearsal. Better yet, she could walk to the bed and breakfast where she’d be spending the night, check in, and then ask Zane to take her from there to the rehearsal. So, walking was the new plan. On the bright side, maybe she would drop a pound or two before she squeezed into her maid-of-honor dress. Tugging the hem of her tailored navy suit to counteract its tendency to ride up her thighs, she grabbed her laptop bag and phone and stepped out of the car. After another glance at Dad’s house, she yanked her carry-on suitcase from the trunk as a police car cruised by in the opposite direction. It flipped on its blue and white flashers then swung in a U-turn and pulled behind her broken-down rental. The officer who’d lived a couple of doors down when she was a kid had always been
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nice to her and her mother. If this was the same guy, maybe he’d give her a ride. She squinted at the bright sunlight reflecting off the windshield but couldn’t see inside the vehicle. The cop opened the door, dipping his head as he stepped out, but his full head of dark hair assured her he was too young to be her former neighbor. His chiseled face came into focus, and her stomach plummeted. If her dad was the last guy she’d ask for help, the man approaching her placed a close second. With her brother marrying his sister, she’d expected to see him tonight. While she played maid of honor to his best man, she’d planned to be cool and in control. Now she stood alone and helpless with her colossal high school mistake. Broad shouldered and clean-cut in his crisp, blue uniform, Wyatt Truman swaggered toward her. “Car trouble?” “Apparently. Fixing cars was never my thing.” She resisted the urge to tug on her blazer and cross her arms. Instead, she jutted out her hip, inviting him to check out what he’d lost his chance to hold all these years, rather than give away her vulnerability. His hooded hazel gaze swept down her body. She cleared her throat. He snapped his focus to her face so fast she couldn’t miss the twin flashes of guilt and lust. Served him right. He could look this time, but he couldn’t touch. “Is the car out of gas?” he asked. She pinned him with the withering look she used on businessmen who tried to patronize her in boardroom meetings. “Whatever you think of me, at least give me credit for not being as stupid as I used to be.” He met her gaze directly. “I never thought you were stupid, Nicole.” Well, he still recognized her. Her stomach fluttered at the intimate way her name rolled off his tongue. Damn it, she was supposed to be long over him. Instead, she reverted to the foolish girl crushing on the most popular guy in school. “Something’s steaming under the hood. The rental company’s sending a tow truck sometime within the hour. All taken care of, as far as I’m concerned.” “How soon are they bringing you a replacement car?” “Sunday.” Begging for rides all weekend was not her idea of “taken care of,” but she’d
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cut off her arm before she let Wyatt think she had the situation less than 100 percent under control. “Can I give you a lift?” A car rolled by them, and she tightened her grip on the suitcase handle. The vehicle continued past Dad’s house without stopping, and she relaxed enough to toss her hair and send Wyatt her best full-lip smolder. “That depends. Do I have to be handcuffed in the back, or can I ride shotgun?” “That depends,” he shot back. “Would you like me to handcuff you?” She needed to laugh off his flirtatious advances to prove she’d conquered those silly schoolgirl feelings that had led her straight into his arms fifteen years ago. But she couldn’t laugh. She couldn’t produce a single sound. She might have underestimated her raw attraction and his magnetic personality, but she wouldn’t forget how he’d taken what she’d once pathetically, willingly offered and then left her without a backward glance or a single explanation. Her heart would never be vulnerable to him again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice… ### Wyatt had planned to deliver a carefully worded apology on behalf of his callous teenage self when he saw Nicole at the church this evening. He’d anticipated she would respond with a scathing retort, vowing never to forgive him. He, in turn, would have honored her decision—and her right—by keeping a respectful distance for the rest of the weekend. Instead, he couldn’t remember a word of his apology to the teenager whose trust and affection he’d taken advantage of. The woman in front of him looked like a walking wet dream, and he responded like a horn dog, coming on to her…while acting as an ambassador of Regret Hollow’s finest. He ought to turn himself in for inappropriate conduct. “I’ll pass on the handcuffs,” Nicole said. “I’m done with guys who want to use me. Don’t try going there again.” He slid his tongue over his teeth. Even without his apology, she kept to the script with a
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ball-busting rebuttal. He needed to regroup and stay in cop mode, lending assistance to a stranded motorist, regardless of his history with said motorist. They’d deal with the personal stuff later. “Actually, if you’re going to ride with me, you have to sit in the backseat. Standard protocol. No handcuffs.” She darted her gaze down the street, as she had several times since he’d arrived, then marched toward the squad car. “Sounds great. If the cop thing doesn’t work out, you could start a chauffeur service.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed her wit. “The cop thing’s been working out pretty well, but I’ll keep that in mind. Give me your suitcase, and I’ll throw it in the trunk. I assume you want me to drive you someplace farther than your dad’s house.” He brushed her fingers on the handle, and she jerked her hand away, leaving the luggage with him. “Wherever you’re going is fine, as long as it’s not there.” All righty then. Even though the man would soon be his sister’s father-in-law, Wyatt didn’t know all the details of Len DeMonde’s relationship with his kids. He could, however, vouch for the man’s squeaky-clean and—as far as he could tell—stone-sober reputation since he’d returned to Regret Hollow. Len’s work as a lawn service owner had him prowling the neighborhoods as much as any town officer, and he’d become a reliable, albeit somewhat reluctant, source of information. Wyatt tossed the suitcase in the trunk and slammed the lid then held the back door open for Nicole. “Since I’m off duty, I’m on my way home. Chances are, we’re going to the same place tonight anyway. At my house, I’ll switch to driving my pickup, and you can ride shotgun.” She paused in the open doorway. “Why did you stop for me if you’re off duty?” “I’m the police chief. Even when I clock out, I’m never completely off.” He took his responsibility for the well-being of the town seriously. “So you protect people. Interesting.” She glided into the car, her skirt riding dangerously high up her thighs. “Who’s going to protect me from you?” Ouch. And he completely deserved the zinger. He wrenched his gaze from her sweet, smooth legs. “Looks to me like you can protect yourself just fine, but if you’re worried about me, I can call someone else to watch over you.”
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“The only thing I’m worried about is if I have to refer to you as my brother-in-law after this wedding.” “Please don’t.” He winced as he closed the door. After checking over her disabled vehicle, he hustled to the driver’s side of his car. While he settled in the seat, Nicole took out her cell phone and held it at arm’s length, selfie-style. “What are you doing?” He couldn’t take his eyes off her reflection in the rearview mirror. “Updating my Facebook status. I’ll send you a friend request, and you can check it out. My life is an open book, Officer.” Cripes. First, she wanted to call him her brother. Now they were going to be Facebook friends. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He wouldn’t be comfortable again until she exited the city limits and preferably the state, as well. In fact, he was growing more uncomfortable by the minute, specifically in the crotch of his uniform. “What are your plans until the rehearsal?” he asked. “Do you want to drive by your dad’s house again? Maybe work up the nerve to ring the doorbell?” In the mirror, her face flushed. “I have no intention of ringing the doorbell, not because I’m a coward but because he treated his family like crap, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise.” “Sorry. None of my business.” But he couldn’t help adding, “You know he’s coming to the rehearsal tonight and you’ll see him there?” “Unfortunately. I can’t avoid running into people I don’t want to see. It’s the reason I never came back to Regret Hollow and still wouldn’t have if my brother hadn’t decided to hold the most important event of his life here.” He got the message. Her dad wasn’t the only person she’d have preferred to avoid. Arriving at his house, he backed the squad car into the driveway parallel to his truck. As he rounded the car to let her out, he flipped on his phone and accepted her friend request. Thumbing over to her profile, he pulled open the door. As she stepped onto the driveway, he read aloud the status above her picture. “Hellish meeting, flight delay, defective rental, and now I’m riding in the back of a squad car. Murphy’s Law is biting my ass today.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “If I bite your ass, you’ll find it a hell of a lot more enjoyable than with that Murphy fellow.”
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Her eyes widened and then narrowed. “You’re going to have to do a hell of a lot more ass kissing before you get the chance to nibble on anything of mine.” Shit. Why had he made such a crass offer? Nicole was absolutely off-limits, even from harmless flirting. He held up both hands. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’m not trying to bite or nibble on any part of you or hit on you at all. I’m sorry for what happened—no, not what happened—I’m sorry for what I did. You never have to worry about any out-of-bounds behavior from me again.” Nicole would be protected and safe as long as she was in his company. He would not bite her ass, touch her inappropriately, or flirt with her. He would be nothing but respectful and upstanding, staying within the lines of a social media friend and pseudo brother-in-law.
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Chapter 2 The erotic image of Wyatt’s hot mouth on her ass locked in Nicole’s mind and wouldn’t budge, no matter how much she tried to push it aside. Not that she tried very hard. Even in fantasy, the damp warmth of his satin lips contrasting with the sharp pinch of his teeth shot heat through her core. She’d been working too hard and hadn’t taken care of her needs in a while. Well, to be honest, she’d kind of forgotten she had needs. They’d picked a lousy time to rise to the surface, considering she wouldn’t be giving them any attention as long as she remained in town. Wyatt pulled her suitcase from the trunk and carried it to the front door. He held it open for her, leaving her no choice but to step close to him as she passed through. Dang, he smelled good, like justice and Old Spice and something too male and sexy to be bottled. “Make yourself comfortable.” He leaned the suitcase against the wall. “The bathroom’s down the hall on the left. Sodas and bottled water are in the fridge if you’re thirsty. Help yourself.” “I’m good.” She’d intended to keep her distance, and, minutes after rolling into town, she ended up alone with him inside his house. Not the most auspicious start. “All right, well.” He rocked back on his heels. “If you’re okay with being alone for a couple of minutes, I’ll run upstairs and change.” She waved him off, enjoying the view of his broad shoulders and tight butt disappearing up the stairs. Her pleasure faded as soon as he did, though. What kind of game was he playing with her this time? She had no doubt toying with her was a game to him. Over the long, lonely summer after her brother left home, Wyatt had showered her with attention, listening to her dreams, her college possibilities, and her worries about leaving her mother behind. He hadn’t been her first kiss, but he’d been the first boy she could kiss for hours and love every second of it. He had been her first lover, and she’d known he was the one…until he hadn’t
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been able to get away fast enough moments after he came. The memories still stung fifteen years later. To push them away, she focused on his house. The living room was decorated in nondescript beige and brown. The well-cushioned furniture and ginormous TV screamed bachelor pad. A flash of color—pink—beckoned from the wall above the couch. She blinked at the picture of a pink shoe hanging on his wall. Well, that was unique. As she stepped closer, the single shoe became a collage of multiple tiny shoes. So, the bland, predictable bachelor had a shoe obsession. She grinned. Sure, everyone had secrets, but she’d have guessed his ran along the lines of biting a woman’s ass during sex or role playing with his police handcuffs. His feet pounded on the stairs, and her nipples stiffened in response. Taking a deep breath and then another, she fixated on the pink art to wipe away her errant fantasies. Once she’d reclaimed her composure, she turned to face him. In place of the starched blue uniform, he wore a pair of jeans. A gray polo shirt stretched across his sculpted chest. Even with his too-short military-style haircut, he looked good enough to eat. Yeah, not a good thing to mention. She searched for a safe topic. “Tell me about your shoe fetish.” “Shoe fetish?” His voice rose, as if she’d threatened his man card. She gestured to the collage. “Not a fetish. God.” His cheeks brightened as pink as the picture. “Last spring, I was supporting Julianne’s silent auction of student artwork and feeling guilty for how I’d kept Zane away from her.” “A conscience. How inconvenient for you.” The snide words slipped out before she could stop them. “Aside from the practicalities of sneakers and work boots, shoes mean nothing to me,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “But the girl who created that picture was over the moon that someone would pay so much for her work. I wanted to let her keep it, but her home life isn’t the most stable and she worried it would get misplaced or damaged. So I gave it a place of honor on my wall, and she knows where to find it if she ever wants to reclaim it.” Great, he donated to his sister’s cause and supported the dreams of a down-on-her-luck teenage girl while making amends with Zane, his archenemy and future brother-in-law.
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While he’d turned into a certified nice guy and sported a hotter body than ever, Nicole had turned into a waspish bitch, at least in his company. How was she supposed to hate him when he owned up to his mistakes and wore his big heart on his sleeve? Her plan to avoid him when possible and act cool around him the rest of the time had already failed. She needed a better plan for the weekend—a plan that didn’t remind her of her crushed teenage dreams. At the very least, she need to get out of his house before she ended up vulnerable and hurt again. ### “Bad news.” Nicole clicked off her phone and stuffed it in her purse. “The bed-andbreakfast lady is running errands and can’t check me in until after the rehearsal starts, so you can’t drop me off there.” “Okay, not a problem.” Not bad news in his book either. Did he dare ask if she wanted to grab a beer? Sitting on a bar stool over at The Hollow Leg would be a damn sight better than being alone with her in his house, his gaze constantly distracted by the swell of her breasts and the hem of her skirt. “But I have good news, too. You can still get rid of me. Drop me off at the hollow, and I’ll call someone else from the wedding party to pick me up and take me to the church.” She’d read his mind. “I’ll stay with you. We can have a couple of beers and some wings.” She rolled her eyes. “Not The Hollow Leg Pizzeria. The hollow.” He stiffened. He couldn’t escort her to the notorious makeout area where he’d taken her virginity. As an officer, he conducted regular rounds through the woods, breaking up underage drinking and responding to lovers’ spats and fights with jealous exes, but he’d never accompanied a girl there again and swore he never would. She’d be the last woman he’d make an exception for. “You can’t go on the dirt trails and climb over rocks in high heels.” She snorted. “A little late to try to stop me from making a decision I’ll regret, don’t you think?” Guilt washed over him, and he stepped toward her, needing to somehow fix his
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mistake. “I’m sorry, so sorry.” “I’ll bet. Sorry your sister’s marrying my brother and you can’t pretend I don’t exist anymore. Trust me, I feel the same way.” He had to convince her of his sincerity, and he’d already screwed up by not saying what he needed to the moment he’d stepped from his squad car behind her broken-down vehicle. “I prepared a speech. I intended to apologize to you the moment I saw you.” “Nicole, I’m sorry I had sex with you and dumped you thirty seconds after I came,” she mimicked. “I was using you to get back at your brother for sleeping with my sister. Never mind that they actually loved each other. To your credit, you did make me work for it all summer, so I hope you have some good memories of us, too.” She paused and arched an eyebrow. “Did I forget anything?” He scrubbed his palm over his face, regret gnawing a hole in his stomach. She hadn’t just made him work for it that summer. He’d fallen for her, too, his revenge plans forgotten until he’d seen the love in her eyes and realized his feelings for her went deeper than he could handle. “Spot on,” he congratulated her. “Great. Then we’re cool, and it’s over.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “I’m going to dig a pair of sneakers from my suitcase and call a friend to give me a ride to the hollow. Then I’ll see you at the church for the rehearsal.” Every cell inside him rebelled at the thought of her at the hollow with anyone else, but he understood why she’d want to replace her memories of their time together with another. “I’ll give you a ride there and take you to the church after.” “I don’t want to be there with you. I want to be alone.” The vulnerability in her eyes contrasted with her brave front, obliterating his defenses. “Alone? Why?” “Why would I want to share it when everyone I’ve gone there with has hurt me?” He didn’t know who else had taken her there, but he wanted to punch that person for hurting her, too. “Understood. I’ll stay in the truck. You can take as long as you need. I won’t go anywhere.” ###
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Of all the people to be reliant on for transportation, Nicole couldn’t have conjured a worse scenario. Neither of them spoke as Wyatt drove down the dirt road. He parked on a relatively flat edge of the ditch, rolled down the windows, and shut off the motor. Then he reclined his seat, laced his fingers behind his head, and closed his eyes. She let her gaze linger along his rigid biceps and smooth torso for a moment then opened the door and stepped out. Although she’d changed into practical shoes, she would have been smarter to have traded her business suit for jeans and a T-shirt, too. She shrugged, accepting one more poor decision in Wyatt’s company, and headed down the dirt trail covered with dry, crunchy leaves. Ten minutes later, she arrived at the rock where she’d made love to Wyatt and he’d ditched her faster than a thief driving a getaway car. Without pausing, she continued along the dry creek bed until it opened into a natural lake. A concrete slab created a peninsula into the water. Crossing to it, she knelt and brushed away the coating of fall leaves. Her fingers didn’t appear too gritty, so she sank to her butt, folding her legs to one side. She could handle visiting Zane. Heck, her permanent address was his Chicago studio that was now up for sale. And, thanks to social media, she kept in touch with a few old friends from Regret Hollow. But coming home and dealing with both men she’d trusted and loved who’d hurt her—her dad and Wyatt—had been something she’d avoided for years, locking away her memories and emotions. But since she’d entered the city limits, the emotions wouldn’t stay locked away. And the longer she hung around Wyatt, the more he poked holes in her armor. No matter how nice, apologetic, and solicitous his demeanor, she couldn’t let her feelings rekindle from the summer she’d spent with him. He would rip her heart in two—sooner rather than later. Picking up a stick, she tapped it on the surface of the water, creating ripples. Most people who came to the hollow never walked all the way to the lake, except for elderly fishermen…and out-of-work drunks. When her father had lost his job because of his drinking, he became a stay-at-home parent. He’d pick her up after kindergarten and bring her to this exact spot. While she ate her lunch, he’d fish and drink beer. He’d let her take the fish off the hook, bragging to anyone within earshot how his girl could handle a fish without squealing or wrinkling her nose. Then he’d beam his special smile at her and swear they’d fish together forever. But she hadn’t fished in two decades,
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and the thought of touching a slimy, smelly fish made her wrinkle her nose with the disdain she reserved for men and their empty promises. Flipping the stick onto the bank, she stood and retraced her steps along the trail. She’d face all her demons this weekend and put them behind her. The past would no longer trip her up or hold any power over her. She’d concentrate on her career and continue with her solitary life by going forward without any regrets. ### “Everything okay?” Wyatt asked. “Of course.” Nicole climbed into the truck and slammed the door. Having spent the return walk schooling her expression and putting her emotions in an untouchable box helped. “Did you have a nice nap?” “I did. Ready to head to the rehearsal?” She glanced at the dash clock. “We better. We’ll give everyone a heart attack if we don’t show.” Truthfully, they might freak everyone out by showing up together. Or maybe no one else would care or notice and she was just pushing her sense of self-preservation over the edge by hanging around with him. While he drove, she toed off her sneakers and replaced them with her gold pumps. At the church, he paused in the parking lot to talk with someone else, and she took the opportunity to shatter any assumption they might be a couple by hurrying inside ahead of him. As the door closed behind her, she skidded to a halt. Her dad stood across the narthex. He was freshly shaved, his hair neatly trimmed, his portly figure clothed in a pressed polo and Dockers. He looked sober and…old. “Your collar’s crooked.” A woman about Nicole’s age approached him and adjusted the corner of his upturned collar then kissed his cheek. He grinned. “What would I do without you, Bethany?” “You’d be lost,” she said with a laugh. Then she turned and met Nicole’s gaze. “Zane’s sister, right?” “Nicole,” she agreed, focusing on the woman to avoid her dad’s gaze.
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“I’m Bethany, Julianne’s best friend,” she said with a friendly smile. “I know we were sort of acquaintances in high school, but we should probably become best friends, too, since we’re pretty much stepsisters.” “Stepsisters?” she choked out. “Well, since my mom’s dating your dad and they’re living together and everything. I mean, they’re not married yet, but they might as well be.” She laughed again. Did she really think Dad finding a new family and creating a new life after tossing aside his old one was funny? Had he taken Bethany down to the lake and taught her how to fish, too? “Nice to meet you,” she sputtered, turning away. She started to run but slammed into Wyatt before she took more than two steps. His arms surrounded her, steadying her, and she couldn’t pull away. Far better to hang onto him than let everyone see her melt down over someone else taking her place in her dad’s heart. “So, are we all making introductions and getting reacquainted?” Zane stepped into the narthex with another man. “This is my business manager and groomsman, Ken Hawkins. Ken, my sister Nicole and my dad, Len. I believe you met Wyatt and Bethany at the auction. Dad’s girlfriend—Bethany’s mom, Trudy—took the flower girl to the bathroom, so they’ll be back in a minute.” Her brother didn’t blink at Dad’s new family. How could it not bother him? Didn’t he care that they no longer mattered? Conversation buzzed throughout the room. Everyone had a story about events and people she knew nothing about. Her mother used to bring her up-to-date on happenings she missed out on, but even with Wyatt’s arms around her, she had no one to turn to. Her heart pounded, and she struggled for breath, the professional business demeanor she’d been so determined to keep in place so she could fulfill her role for the weekend deserting her. She’d gone for so long without confronting the past and without cultivating meaningful personal relationships, she couldn’t fake the small talk and smiles necessary to get through the evening. She didn’t belong here. Worse, no one needed her here.
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Chapter 3 “Excuse me. I need to find the ladies’ room.” Nicole broke out of Wyatt’s embrace. He took a step after her, but she waved him off. He was the last person who could help her regain her equilibrium. “Last door on the right,” Bethany called. Oh no. Dad’s girlfriend was supposedly inside there. She could not deal with meeting the woman who’d taken her mother’s place. Where the hell could a girl safely have a good cry when she didn’t have her own car or a hotel room to retreat to? “The room directly across the hall is reserved for the bridal-party women to change in and freshen up,” Bethany continued. Good enough. She headed straight for the door. As she stepped inside, Julianne and her mother turned toward her. Dammit. She couldn’t get a moment to herself. The only place she’d found so far had been the hollow, and that walk down memory lane had only messed up her emotions more. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was in here.” “I’m so glad you’re here.” Before she could back out of the doorway, Julianne surrounded her with an enthusiastic hug. “I saw your Facebook post about your awful day.” “It’s fine.” She’d gladly suffer through all of the travel woes again if she could avoid mingling with everyone. Julianne stared at her. “You’re not fine. Sit down.” She sank into a chair because she couldn’t see far enough to run anywhere. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to ruin your day, I swear.” “You’re not ruining anything. Was my brother a jerk when you had to ride in his car?” She laughed, which somehow made her tears flow faster. “No, he was fine. I just…I wish my mom was here. I miss her so much, and I know you have every right to invite my dad, and he should be part of your special day. But I can’t stand the sight of him. I wish Mom was here instead of him.” “Of course, you do.” Julianne squeezed her hand. “Zane wishes she could have been
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here, too.” She closed her eyes. God, she was so selfish. Of course, not having their mother here would be harder for her brother. It was his wedding, after all, not hers. But she’d been too consumed with her messed up psyche to think about lending support to anyone else. “Nicole.” Mrs. Truman knelt next to her chair. “No one can ever take the place of your mother, and I would never try. But I’m here as a friend and a shoulder and a warm hug. You’re not alone. You’re part of our family now, too.” “Thank you, Mrs. Truman, but I—” “Louise,” she corrected. A sharp knock sounded on the door before she could gather her thoughts to continue. “Is everyone okay in there? The minister wants to get started.” “Everything’s great. Scram, Wyatt,” Julianne called. “If I want to be late to my own rehearsal, I will. We’ll come out when we’re ready.” Nicole smirked and plucked a tissue from a nearby box. “Thanks for covering for me.” “That was nothing.” She waved it away. “Listen, I know you and Zane have faced the world as a kick-ass duo for a long time, and I’ve mucked up the dynamic. But you’re not losing him. You’re gaining all of us.” The thought might have been comforting if Nicole hadn’t slept with Julianne’s brother. Because of the heartbreak she couldn’t get over, she’d never fit comfortably with the Truman family. “And give your dad a chance,” Louise added, squeezing her shoulder. “Pushing him away won’t bring your mom back and, ultimately, you’ll just hurt more.” “I don’t need to push him away. He’s already found a new daughter to replace me.” Nicole stood. Feeling sorry for herself served no purpose. She had to be strong because no one else would prop her up. “If you mean Bethany,” Julianne said, “she’s not replacing you.” “Thanks for helping me through my breakdown.” Nicole ignored the comment as well as the glance exchanged between Julianne and her mom. “I’m fine now and ready to power through this rehearsal as soon as I fix my makeup.” “If you feel the need to step away, you can always come back here and take a moment,” Louise said before heading into the church.
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Julianne echoed her mother’s sentiments and hesitated a moment longer before Nicole shooed her out. By the time she repaired her mascara and rejoined the crowd, people were taking their places at the back of the church in preparation for a trial walk down the aisle. Her dad sat in one of the front pews while Bethany sauntered down the aisle. Nicole took her place in line and dutifully followed directions. She could get through this weekend without melting down again. As long as she didn’t have any expectations for anyone, they could never let her down. Whatever occurred over the next two days, she’d leave with her heart intact. ### Standing in the back of the church with Nicole at his side at the end of the rehearsal, Wyatt longed to return to the moment in his house when she’d spouted the apology he should have said. She’d put a wall up with those words, blocking any glimpse of the vulnerability he’d seen when he’d picked her up at the side of the road. After she’d returned from her walk in the hollow, she’d buried it deeper. The wall had cracked during the introductions earlier, but after she’d closed herself in the bridal room, she’d come out with an impenetrable shell surrounding her. “Nicole.” Len held out his hand, his fingers shaking. He started to touch her arm then offered a handshake instead. “How’s my baby girl?” “All grown up.” She turned away. But, although her tone scoffed, pain lurked in her eyes. No matter how tough and together she acted, she was hurting. Wyatt hadn’t caused all her pain, but he’d triggered plenty of it. Instead of standing around while she parroted the apologies he should have said, he needed to man up and channel his guilt into protecting her…from others who had hurt her and above all from himself. “Okay, everyone. We’re heading over to The Hollow Leg. They have the back room reserved for us,” Zane announced. “Does everyone have a ride? Anyone need a way to get over there? Nicole?” “I’ve got her covered,” Wyatt said, slinging his arm around her shoulder.
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She raised a brow at him. “That was your opening to dump me on someone else.” He intended for her to get to know the real Wyatt Truman, who didn’t shove responsibility off on anyone else. “I have room in my car,” Bethany called out. He imitated her raised brow expression. “Your choice.” She compressed her lips as if both options left a sour taste in her mouth. “You’re stuck with me, Officer. I hope you brought your handcuffs along to keep me in line.” Dang. So much for erasing that mental image from his head. In the parking lot, he held the door for her then settled into the driver’s seat. “So you honestly consider me the lesser of two evils compared to a mild-mannered English teacher?” he asked, questioning her choice to ride with him over Bethany. “Don’t let it go to your head. It doesn’t mean I like you or anything,” Nicole said, snapping her seat belt into the buckle. He laughed. Damn, he liked her way too much. “Fair enough. I appreciate your keeping my ego in check.” “No, you don’t.” But the corners of her mouth twitched, too, until he had to fight the urge to lean across the seat and explore her lips with his own. A few minutes later, they sat next to each other at a long table in the pizzeria, their families and the rest of the bridal party filling the remaining seats. While a waitress served drinks, Nicole hung her blazer over her chair, distracting him with her bare shoulders. After everyone was settled, Wyatt’s dad rose from his seat and held up his beer glass. “As father of the bride, I think I speak for everyone here, Julianne and Zane, when I say I’m so glad you two finally found your way back together. We knew all along you were made for each other.” While people clinked glasses around him, Wyatt tried to keep the contents of his churning stomach under control. Because he hadn’t realized what everyone else could see, he’d kept his sister from the love of her life for fifteen years. “I’ve had a lot of regrets about how you left town at the end of high school, Zane,” his dad continued. “And I certainly wished for a way to change the circumstances and events of the past. I’ll admit I had reservations whether the boy you were back then was worthy of my daughter, but I can say without a single reservation that I am honored to have you as a
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son-in-law, and I know Julianne is in good hands and with a man who loves her and will treat her the way she deserves.” Dad hugged Zane and then Julianne. Wyatt clenched his jaw against an irrational spurt of jealousy, understanding Nicole’s reaction to her father treating Bethany like his daughter. His mom got up and hugged the bridal couple, too. When she sat back down, she wiped a tear from her eye and reached across the table, squeezing Nicole’s hand. “Between the school expulsions for Wyatt’s and Zane’s fight and Julianne’s and Zane’s broken hearts, you’re the only kid from our families who came out of your teenage years unscathed.” Except she hadn’t. Because Wyatt had stolen her innocence and broken her heart. He set his glass down with a thud and braced for Nicole to blast him in front of the entire bridal party. “Well, I don’t know anyone who comes through their teens completely unscathed. But I understand what you mean, Louise. I’m glad my brother and Julianne are getting their happily ever after now.” Nicole smiled sweetly at his mother and patted her hand. Wyatt gaped at her, but she ignored him. Ken stood and delivered a humorous roast of Zane’s artist side, while Nicole clinked glasses and laughed along with everyone else. Wyatt didn’t want his past actions to shame his family or create conflict on the eve of his twin’s wedding, but he certainly didn’t want the person who had every right to hate him to feel forced into covering for him. He skimmed his palm along Nicole’s bare arm. Electricity sparked as if he’d grasped a live wire. “Can I talk to you privately?” She aimed her blue-eyed gaze straight at him and whispered, “Everything is fine. I’ve never told anyone, and I’m not going to start now.” “I never thought you would.” “The only person who might have guessed was my mother.” “I’m so sorry about your mother.” He slid his hand down until he clasped her palm. She shook her head and wiped her eyes. “I had no idea how much I was going to feel her loss this weekend. I didn’t prepare myself to handle it.” At the far end of the table, Len rose to his feet and lifted his water glass. Nicole pushed back her chair. “You wanted to talk to me privately? Let’s go.”
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She tugged his hand, and Wyatt stood. Len’s jaw tightened and his shoulders sagged as Nicole marched from the room. “Did you really have to walk out on your dad’s speech?” Wyatt asked once they were standing outside the back door used for deliveries. She glared at him, her vulnerability now hidden behind defensive walls and hostility. “Would you like me to recite his speech, too? ‘I was a drunk, sucky dad for years, and I’m sorry. Even though I can’t make up for it, I’m grateful to be back in your life and so proud of how you kids turned out, no thanks to me.’” “You know, just because you hit the mark on anticipating what he’s going to say doesn’t mean you can’t benefit from hearing the apology from the person who wronged you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you talking about my dad or yourself?” “I meant your dad, but I can’t speak for him. I can only speak for me, so let me say what I should have said and what you deserve to hear.” Stepping to the side of the building, he turned to face her, resting his hand on her upper arm. The physical connection helped him formulate his thoughts and focus on what was important. “You don’t need to apologize again. I’m over it.” He shook his head. She might be willing to let him off easy, but he wouldn’t give himself a free pass. He also didn’t believe for a second she was over it. “You deserve a formal apology, so here it is. I am sorry, very sorry. I treated you horribly fifteen years ago. You have every right to cut off my balls in front of our families.” She dropped her gaze to his crotch and then met his gaze with a smirk. “You’re the first guy I’ve met who’s been willing to put his testicles on the chopping block for any reason.” He winced and instinctively reached to shield his privates. “As I recall, you gave me exactly what I asked for,” she replied. “Of course, I was so smitten I took it pretty hard when you decided you’d had enough of me.” He groaned. No apology was strong enough. She should have vowed never to forgive him. And yet, the profession she’d been “smitten” warmed his perverse, lonely soul. “The point is, I wanted you.” Her shiny red hair swayed emphatically with her words. “I threw myself at you and gave as good as I got.” She didn’t deserve any of the blame. He refused to allow her to share in his responsibility. “You’re not getting it. I planned to hurt you, and I did.”
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“I got my heart broken by following it and making stupid choices. It happens. I grew up. I got over it.” She leaned so close he could count the violet flecks in her round blue eyes. “What I can’t understand, Wyatt, is why you didn’t.” If only she’d ground him under her heel instead of absolving him. She was telling him to leave the past alone. But he didn’t regret having sex with her. He only regretted leaving her. Maybe if she had any idea how much he wanted her again, her contempt would flare up and she’d give him what he deserved. And he did want her. More than ever. He wanted to put his hands on her satin skin and kiss every bit of shiny gloss from her lips. “I was over it until I saw you again,” he said. “Now that you’re here, all I can think about is having you underneath me, surrounding me.” Instead of flattening with disgust, her eyes widened, the purple specks deepening, and her chest rose. Watching his words turn her on made Wyatt harder than granite. Unwilling to concede his approach had backfired, he gave her one more chance to see the horrible person she was dealing with. “You have two choices. You can let me take you against the side of this building, or you can slap me and go back inside.”
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Chapter 4 Nicole had become much less gullible over the years, proven by the fact that she could now see straight through Wyatt’s intentions. Although his suggestion turned her on, he intended to offend her to the point where she’d push him permanently away. When she’d first rolled into town, she’d have happily done so, but her plan to avoid him was an unqualified failure. She also hadn’t anticipated her father’s continued presence during the weekend events. Actively avoiding him proved tricky and emotionally draining. Bantering with Wyatt provided a welcome distraction from the hurt her father represented. If Wyatt was the answer, why not do what her hormones were begging for? She could toss aside the no-nonsense workaholic she’d turned into and do something crazy. With him. Preferably naked. All she needed was to ensure she called the shots, kept all the control, and didn’t make herself vulnerable. She raised her hand. Wyatt tensed, as if expecting her to accept his slapping invitation. He didn’t flinch as she drew closer though. Like her, he knew better than to show weakness. Gently settling her palm on his sculpted cheek, she leaned forward and brushed her lips across his. “You’re not going to fuck me out here, and I’m not going to slap you either. But we can compromise with a kiss.” Just as she slanted her mouth over his, the door next to them opened, and a delivery guy stepped out carrying a half-dozen pizza boxes. Cursing under his breath, Wyatt pulled her hand from his face and shifted away. “Am I casting shadows on your reputation?” She didn’t care what the townspeople thought of her, but the village board probably wouldn’t approve of the police chief making out in an alley. Despite their antagonist relationship, she didn’t want to damage his career. “Are you trying to?” Tugging her arm, he marched inside the restaurant. Since she could either follow him or be dragged along, she matched his steps. “No. You were the one who wanted to have this private conversation, remember?”
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“The conversation only extended to the apology.” “All right. I’ll take responsibility for the kiss. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” Ahead, the wait staff set pans of pizzas and pastas at intervals along the table. “But I provoked you,” he whispered. Good grief. The guy took the responsibility of the world on his sinfully sexy shoulders. She pulled free of his grasp and turned his face toward hers. “And I took the bait. Feel guilty about the past all you want, but your conscience should be clear over what happened out there.” She marched to her chair and sat. A moment later, Wyatt sat next to her. “Is everything okay?” Louise asked. “Everything’s great. We’re making sure we didn’t leave any loose ends for our maid-ofhonor and best-man duties tomorrow,” she improvised, forcing a smile. “Wyatt’s very thorough. Dangling loose ends drive him crazy.” “I’m certainly a loose end.” Driving him crazy sounded like fun, as long as she had a plan to tie up the finale of their relationship so she’d be able to return to visit her brother in the future without enduring awkward reunions with Wyatt every time. She glanced down the table where her dad gripped his sweaty water glass in one hand and lifted a slice of pizza to his mouth with the other. The awkward reunions and loose ends would never go away, no matter how great a plan she came up with for dealing with Wyatt. ### As the rehearsal dinner broke up, Nicole found herself standing in front of her dad before she could come up with a strategy to dodge him. “I’d love for you to come over to my house for a bit if you don’t have anything else going on.” Her palms sweated. Come over and do what? Cry about all the times he’d failed her? Bitch at him for not being the father she’d wanted him to be? “Actually, I already made plans to meet some friends in the bar. Sorry.” It wasn’t a complete lie. She’d messaged her friend Haley she might stop by.
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He hesitated a beat. “Sunday, if you’re still in town, Trudy and I would love to have you over.” Bethany would be there, too, probably. His new family. Her chest ached, and she held up a hand to put distance between them before he hurt her more. “You don’t have to make an effort just because you can’t avoid me. I know I mean nothing to you. You don’t have to pretend.” “Nikki—” Tears stung her eyes. “It’s Nicole. Nobody calls me Nikki anymore.” His lips flattened. “You’ll always be Nikki to me.” Damn it, calling her Nikki did not make up for all the years he’d chosen the drink over her. “You know what I’ve been to you? Nothing. Nothing,” she repeated, her voice breaking. “Now I’m going to plant myself in the bar and drink. My dad taught me that activity should always take priority over family.” She whirled away and marched through the restaurant, across the shared lobby, and into the bar. By the time she plopped on a vacant stool at the counter, her eyes were so blurry she could barely see. Dad had abandoned her and Zane and their mother and then found a new family for himself. No man, blood relative or not, would ever treat her like a throwaway again. “Nicole.” She blinked. Her high school friend, Haley, stood behind the bar, arms extended. Desperately needing a friendly face, she stood and leaned into Haley’s embrace. “I’d ask how you’re doing, but I’m afraid you’d fall apart, and this isn’t the best place for spill-all conversation,” Haley murmured in her ear. “I just talked to Dad, and I was a bitch,” she admitted. Haley hugged her harder. “Drinks are on me. What do you want?” Despite the words she’d flung at her father, the thought of modeling his behavior turned her stomach. She pulled back and settled on the stool again. “Can I have a bottomless Sprite or 7-Up or something?” “You bet.” “What can I get for you, Chief?” Haley asked, looking beyond her. “The same.” Wyatt sank onto the stool at her right.
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Nicole swiveled toward him. “You didn’t have to follow me here.” “What are you going to do? Walk home?” “I’ll get a ride. Leave my suitcase outside your front door, and I’ll pick it up on the way.” “You’re looking for a ride home? I’m your ticket, baby.” A guy from two stools down slid over and took the seat next to her. “Beat it, Rick,” Wyatt snapped. “Wait. Rick Watch-My-Fingers Hays?” she repeated, remembering him now as the baseball team’s catcher. He grinned. “The one and only. Nicole DeMonde, you are looking”—he gave her a long up-and-down stare—“hot.” “Hands off,” Wyatt snarled, “or you can watch me break your fingers.” “Thank you, Rick.” She ignored Wyatt. “Although coming from the biggest flirt I have ever met—and I travel from coast to coast for a living—I’ll take your compliment with a grain of salt.” “As you should…and with a lime and tequila. Haley, bring us a round,” he called out. “No.” She held up her right hand to stop the order. “My goal is not to be hung over at my brother’s wedding. Boring, I know, but I’ll appreciate my restraint tomorrow.” “A rain check, then.” Rick tilted his beer toward her. “That I can do.” She clinked her glass with his and drank, appreciating the way his overthe-top bluster allowed her to relax and push away the serious shit from earlier. “You can do better than him,” Wyatt said. So much for relaxing. “By what? Doing you?” Behind the bar, Haley snorted. Wyatt’s eyes flared. The idea turned him on. Interesting. “I wasn’t suggesting it, but, yes, if I’m the only other alternative.” Haley laughed. “I thought you two worked each other out of your systems back in high school.” “This time, I’ll do it for good,” Nicole joked in return. The idea, though, had serious potential. She could indulge her silly infatuation until it faded and Wyatt meant nothing to her. She’d throw herself at him as she had fifteen years ago. But, this time, she’d keep her heart out of the equation.
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“Wait, you two were together in high school?” Rick asked, leaning around her to look at Wyatt. “After graduation,” he acknowledged. “I’m pretty sure you’d already checked out by then.” “As soon as they called my name for the diploma, I was gone. Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to step on any toes.” Nicole didn’t know exactly how the man code worked, but, right in front of her eyes, Rick turned off the flirtation machine and placed her in some untouchable category, as if she were wearing Wyatt’s ring. Whatever. She didn’t want him to touch her, and she hadn’t come here with the intention of hooking up with anyone. However, if she did, she’d do it to prove to herself that she was long over her high school heartbreak and could have hot, sweaty sex with Wyatt without either of them getting hurt. ### Rick turned away to talk with some other locals, and Wyatt rolled out the tension in his shoulders while Nicole and Haley chatted across the bar. Thank goodness, Rick backed off. Wyatt didn’t care how innocent their flirting had been. He couldn’t stomach the image of them laughing over drinks together, let alone anything more intimate. The longer the women talked, the more Nicole seemed to forget his presence. She relaxed and smiled as she grilled Haley about her corporate job in the city and her weekends tending bar for her dad at home. Nicole shared some amusing anecdotes about some recent trips she’d taken. Then the two of them bonded over their favorite Chicago restaurants. At last, Nicole turned to him. “All right. We have a busy day tomorrow. You’d better take me home and put me to bed.” She winked. Wyatt’s breath lodged in his throat. How the hell could he not take that as a sexual come-on? But of course she wanted him to, just like she’d tried to cajole him into making out earlier. No way would he attempt to call her bluff. If she intended to follow through, he’d have to be the lone voice of reason. Yeah, not likely, if his cock had any say. Maybe if he
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locked himself in the cell at the police station, he’d have a chance of staying under control. Nicole rubbed along his side as they left the bar. He would have attributed her overfamiliarity to her having too much to drink, except she hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since the toasts hours ago. He should have let her find her own ride to the bed and breakfast. The only things chivalry would earn him were a raging hard-on and a load of frustration. “Stay in the truck. I’ll run in and grab your things,” he said, as he pulled into his driveway. “Aren’t you going to invite me in for coffee?” “No.” Fortunately, she didn’t know how much he wanted to invite her in. He had two nights and one day to get through. He’d protect her and send her away again. At the very least, she deserved that much. “We could skip the coffee part.” She batted her eyelashes and laughed. The laugh sucker-punched him. “I’m not going to make a move on you.” Tomorrow, they’d be in-laws of a sort. He wouldn’t do anything to upset his sister on her wedding day. Having Zane beat the hell out of him for the things he’d do with Nicole if she walked inside his house again would definitely upset Julianne. “Lucky for you, I’m looking forward to being the one who initiates all the moves.” She trailed her fingernails along his arm. “I’m trying to make up for the past, not repeat it. Stay here.” He ran into the house and closed himself inside. Leaning against the door, he sucked in a deep breath. He never thought twice about doing the right thing on a daily basis, but, with Nicole, it took all his willpower. Once calmness and control settled over him, he returned to the truck and stowed her luggage. As he resettled behind the wheel, she adjusted something on the rearview mirror. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Giving you a souvenir.” She shot him a smug look. The glow of the outside lights revealed a silhouette of pale lacy fabric hanging from the mirror. He nearly choked on his tongue. “You took off your underwear?” “There’s only one way to find out for certain.” She stroked her fingers up her thigh. Actually, there was more than one way. He liked her invitation better, but, clinging to his sanity, he refused to let his fingers touch her skin. Reaching up, he crushed the panties
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in his fist. The warmth of her body, still on the fabric, engulfed him. He yanked his hand back, leaving the garment dangling from the mirror, and threw the truck into reverse. He had to get her off his property before he tried her way and they both regretted it. “I’ll walk you to the door of the B&B, but I’m not going in with you. I’m not having sex with you. And I’m not going to be your weekend fling.” “What happened to the ‘take me against the building’ talk? You’re turning all big brother prudish on me.” “After the wedding, you can legitimately call me your brother. Do you know how many sorts of wrong that makes what we’re talking about doing?” If he could convince her, maybe he could convince his libido. “It’s not like we share DNA or you’ve ever thought of me in a sisterly way. Hell, the whole reason you slept with me in the first place was because our siblings were getting it on.” Exactly. He’d used and hurt her before. She should be running from him, not encouraging him. “And I’m making sure I don’t do something that stupid again.” “So, sleep with me because you’re horny and I’m available,” she argued. “You deserve better.” He parked the truck in front of the local inn and bolted from the vehicle before he could lean across the seat and slide his hand up her skirt to the hot, silky sweetness she’d invited him to discover. Holding her door open, he tried to keep his gaze on her face but couldn’t help notice her skirt rode dangerously high as she scooted off the seat. If he took a self-preserving step back, he’d risk her flashing someone inside the inn. So, he blocked her from view while he soaked up her heat and lilac scent. “Change your mind about that coffee, hot shot?” He smiled at the old nickname. “I wish. I’ll walk you to the door though.” “If you carry my suitcase, will I have to tip you?” “I’m pretty sure my tip’s hanging from the rearview mirror.” He slammed the pickup door and watched through the window as her panties swung back and forth. “They were complimentary. But here’s a tip for you. Stop fighting this lust so we can finish it off.” Stepping closer, she pressed her soft curves into him and wrapped her arms around his neck.
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Sweat beaded on his forehead. When he’d vowed to keep his distance, he had no idea he’d be tested to this extreme. She brushed her lips along his, and he lost the battle, taking over the kiss and tasting her. Thrusting his tongue into her mouth, he stroked and tangled with hers. She tasted sweet, with a hint of lemon-lime, just enough tang to challenge him. He pushed his knee between her legs, riding her skirt up those thighs he’d refused to ogle moments ago. He denied himself too much. He needed Nicole, her lush body against his, her legs wrapped around him, their mouths mimicking the actions of their bodies. She pulled back until her lips merely caressed his, but her pelvis remained molded to the proof of his desire. “Coffee?” With a side of condoms. Yes please. But he’d promised them both. Hurting her again was out of the question. He would honor his word. “No.” He stepped away. “Good night, Nicole. Sleep well.” Her jaw dropped. “Just because you’ve already had me, don’t expect it would be a repeat been-there-done-that experience from high school.” He paced farther away, not trusting himself to stay firm with his principles while she remained within touching distance. “I don’t, but you’re a forever girl, and as long as forever’s not part of the equation, I’m not sleeping with you.” “You sure didn’t think that the last time you slept with me, and I haven’t done anything to change your mind about my expectations.” “Do you trust me with your heart?” “Of course not.” Her expression said not only did she not trust him, she thought he was crazy. “I’m willing to offer a second chance with my body, but you’ll never touch my heart again.” A hollow pit opened in his stomach as she marched away from him into the bed and breakfast. Everyone in town, except the one woman whose faith he’d destroyed, trusted him to protect them. Apologizing didn’t go far enough. He wouldn’t be able to absolve his guilt and move on until he proved she could trust him again.
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Chapter 5 “What are you doing out here?” Nicole stepped into the outdoor flower garden behind the church where her brother paced back and forth on the brick stepping stones. Zane whirled toward her. “I could ask you the same thing. Aren’t you supposed to be taking pictures and doing bridal things with Julianne? It’s less than an hour before the ceremony. Is something wrong?” His genuine concern stopped her from rolling her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong. We did pictures. And bridal things. Julianne’s doing a couple of shots with her mom right now, so I snuck out for some fresh air.” His face relaxed, but he kept pacing. “Yeah, fresh air for me, too. If I can’t make this wedding happen any sooner, I wish I could at least slap some paint on a canvas while I wait.” “You call yourself an artist, and you didn’t bring a paintbrush to your wedding?” she teased. “I was strongly advised not to get paint on my tux.” He tugged on the lapels. “At this point, I’d settle for a paint-by-numbers kit to keep the crazies at bay.” “If you wore a paint-splotched tux, Julianne would look at you with every bit as much love in her eyes as she already does. But you’ve given me a great idea. I’m going to sneak away between the ceremony and the reception and buy you a paint-by-numbers kit for your honeymoon.” Zane snorted. “I’ll have plenty to keep me occupied once Julianne is within arm’s reach, as long as I survive the freaking waiting now.” “It’s not so bad. I’ll hang out with you until they’re ready for us in the church.” She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so happy for you and Julianne, but, damn, I’m going to miss you after today.” He set her back and met her gaze. “I’m not leaving you. You’re stuck with me until the end of time, sis.”
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“Right.” She shouldn’t have said anything to dampen his eagerness for the upcoming vows. But she couldn’t handle more empty promises that would end up crushing her, so she pulled away. “Hey.” Zane caught her arm. “I’m not abandoning you. However, the time when you and I had to face the world alone is over. You’re a part of Julianne’s family now as much as I am, and Dad wants more than anything to be a part of your life again, just like he’s part of mine.” Although Dad had been present at the rehearsal last night, she still couldn’t comprehend her brother’s acceptance. “How could you forgive him? How can you trust him? When you told him Mom had died, he only cared about getting his hands on liquor money. How can you forget that?” Zane shrugged. “I hated him for a long time, and I still hate the person who put his next drink before his kids and his wife. But I don’t hate the person he was before the drinking took over, and I don’t hate the person he is now. Dad’s doing the best he can. He has good intentions, and his heart is in the right place.” “I’d apologize for intruding, but I’m too choked up to say the words.” At the new voice, Nicole whirled around. Eyes shining with moisture, their dad walked toward them. Wyatt spilled out the church doors behind him. With her emotions already riding a roller coaster, she couldn’t handle watching Dad and Zane get sappy with each other. Zane was right. The time of the two of them against the world had ended. Now she had to face it alone. “Looks like I’m in the middle of ‘guy central’ right now. I’ll get out of your way.” “No. Don’t run off,” Zane said. “This isn’t a guy zone. It’s a family zone.” All the more reason for her to leave. She didn’t have a place in the new family. “Actually, I’m in desperate need of a female touch,” Dad said, gesturing to the white flower on his lapel. It should have pointed upward but instead had twisted almost completely upside down, creasing and sagging the fabric. “That’s pretty sexist. How come men can’t fix flowers?” “It isn’t part of our DNA. We would self-destruct,” Wyatt deadpanned. She bit back a smile. The real point was why Dad asked her for help when she’d
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thoroughly dissed him last night. “I’m sure Trudy or Bethany will fix it for you.” “I’m sure they would, too, but I’m asking you,” he said, his expectant gaze never straying from her face. She bit her lip. Even after her awful behavior, he still sought her out and left himself wide open to her rejection. Unable to bear the transformation from hope to disappointment, she stepped toward him. “You’re taking a big risk, giving me a pin to stab into your chest.” He didn’t flinch. “You do what you have to do to make the flower hang right. If you have to turn me into a voodoo doll with that pin, I imagine stabbing me in real life will be a lot more satisfying for you than mutilating some helpless doll.” In spite of her determination not to let him weasel through her defenses, she laughed as she reached for the sagging boutonniere. “Since you suggested I stab you, you’ve taken away my satisfaction from actually doing it.” She glanced at Wyatt. Was that why he’d refused to sleep with her last night—because she’d suggested it? “I’m going to take your lack of satisfaction with violence as a step in the right direction,” Dad said. “Your prerogative. I’m not going to tell you how to think.” She pushed the pin through the lapel and pricked her own finger. Damn. “I’ll tell you what you should be thinking, Nicole,” Zane said. “From here on out, you should assume a whole lot of people in Regret Hollow have your back.” She finished arranging the flower without impaling her digits a second time and stepped out of her dad’s personal space, turning to face her brother. “I’m glad you have a home here, but it hasn’t been my home in fourteen years. I have a flight to catch tomorrow and a life to return to.” “Whenever you come home, we’ll be here,” Dad said. Zane and Wyatt nodded. The lure of a real home and a permanent place where she belonged pulled at her, but she had the smarts and strength not to let it suck her in. Protecting herself from being hurt by broken promises and empty offers would keep her from needing to relive the anguish of a broken heart again.
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### The sweet, tender wedding ceremony mocked the doubts Wyatt once had about Julianne and Zane’s commitment and love for each other. He tried to keep his gaze on the bridal couple, but with Nicole looking so freaking hot across the altar in her strapless, purple bridesmaid’s dress, he failed. He was probably headed to hell for his unholy thoughts in a place of worship. But how could he not wonder if she wore underwear under her dress? If she did and she took it off for him later, how could he possibly resist her a second time? He choked back a groan and concentrated on controlling his libido. She’d told him point-blank she didn’t trust him with her heart, and she shouldn’t, not after the way he’d treated her. But until he could convince her he’d become a man she could trust, he didn’t deserve a second chance with her body. Not because of the guilt he couldn’t shake but because she deserved more than a purely physical encounter. After the minister’s official proclamation of “husband and wife,” Zane and Julianne headed up the center aisle, leaving Wyatt facing Nicole. He stepped toward her, offering his arm and a tentative smile. She licked her lush, glossy lips and curled her fingers around his elbow. As they strode up the aisle together, the rightness of leaving the church with her holding his arm settled over him. He’d always had feelings for her, even when he’d pushed them aside and hurt her, even as he’d covered them with guilt for fifteen years. In the back of the church, they hugged their siblings. The rest of the bridal party and their parents joined them, followed by relatives and friends, all hugging, laughing, and talking. “Wyatt and Nicole, get closer, and smile for me,” Aunt Mabel commanded, holding up her ancient camera. His cheeks ached from keeping the jovial expression in place, but he gamely wrapped his arm around Nicole’s waist and posed. “I think people are forgetting which couple just got hitched,” she muttered through her obligatory smile. Yeah, people like me. “Bridal party and families to the front of the church for group photos. DeMonde family
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first.” The professional photographer began corralling them into place. “Uh, did anyone tell her there is no DeMonde family anymore?” Nicole muttered. Wyatt opened his mouth, but before he could remind her of the conversation with her father and Zane in the outdoor garden, Trudy and Bethany trotted up the aisle. Her eyes glistened. “Oh, right, there is a DeMonde family. My bad.” “Hey—” He reached up to dab the wetness at the corner of her eye. “The DeMonde family does exist, and it’s not complete without you.” Len held out his hand to Nicole. “Excuse me, Wyatt, but I need to steal my little girl for a while.” Nicole stared at the outstretched hand, her chest heaving. As she turned to him again, Wyatt recognized the silent plea to come up with an excuse to save her from her family, but he couldn’t. She needed her dad more than she needed him in her life. He brushed his lips over her ear, filling his nostrils with her heavenly lilac scent. “Give him a chance. He’s trying.” She jerked away. Then she faced her dad, all vulnerability gone from her posture and expression. “We’re holding up Zane and Julianne’s big day. Let’s get up there.” “Yes, ma’am.” Len grinned as he followed her. Wyatt smiled, too, even though he’d probably pissed Nicole off. She wouldn’t make the reconciliation easy for her dad, but, if he persisted, she’d eventually forgive him and let him in. Wyatt was less convinced she’d give him a grudging second chance. He couldn’t exactly stick by her until it happened when she had a flight out booked for tomorrow. The photographer called the Trumans for family shots and group shots. Then she asked, “Do you want a picture of the best man and maid of honor together?” “Of course.” Only after he’d spoken did he realize the question had been directed at the bride and groom, not him. “Why?” Nicole asked him. “We’re in plenty of group shots together.” “Not the same. Besides, don’t you want a personal shot with me for your wallet?” He wiggled his eyebrows so she wouldn’t take the idea too seriously. If she knew how much the photo would mean to him, he’d drive her away faster than ever. She rolled her eyes. “Who carries pictures in their wallets anymore? That’s what phones are for.” “I do. Hard copies make the pictures more meaningful.”
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She didn’t roll her eyes again, but she might as well have. “I’m glad I won’t be hanging around to hear what you say to people when you pull yours out.” Following the photographer’s choreographed placement, he pulled her into his arms. “What do you think I would say?” She shrugged and tipped her gaze away, offering a smile for the camera. “Probably something similar to what you told your friends after the first time we hooked up, something crude and sexist, I’d guess. What’d you say then?” “Nothing.” Although he deserved it, her low opinion hurt. Still, he didn’t kiss and tell. “Nothing?” Now she looked him in the eye. “What’s the point of screwing someone in revenge if no one knows you did it?” His chest squeezed. He’d been an ass to her, even if she was the only one who’d known it. “Maybe my conscience is bigger than the point I’d been trying to make.” She smiled then, a real one instead of the fake one she’d been generating for the camera. “Any other big things you’re keeping under wraps?” “Oh yeah.” Especially the head-over-heels crazy-for-her feelings storming through him. “That’s what I thought.” Her fingers drifted across the fly of his pants. No way could he misinterpret her inspection of his “big thing.” To keep from embarrassing himself, he trained his gaze beyond the photographer. Oh great, Zane was staring at them across the room, his brows lowered. The guy watching his sister feel up Wyatt’s crotch—in church—would not help mend any remaining rift between their families. “Limousine’s waiting. Time to get moving,” someone called out. Julianne stroked her fingers down Zane’s arm and stood on tiptoe, fitting her lips over his until he turned his attention to his new wife. Holding hands, they sauntered out of the church. Everyone else followed, Wyatt trailing a safe distance behind Nicole. After the bridal couple climbed into the vehicle, Nicole waved her hand for him to climb in ahead of her. He settled across from Zane and Julianne, and Nicole joined him, followed by Bethany then Zane’s business manager, Ken. With each additional person, Nicole scooted a bit closer until her hip pressed firmly against his, her body heat seeping through his too-warm tux. Yet, he still hoped for more people to crowd in and give her a reason to sit on his lap.
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Unfortunately, the door closed, and Nicole reached around him, adjusting Julianne’s dress. Her chest shifted so close to his face, he could have rested his chin in her delectable cleavage. Forcing his gaze away from the temptation of her full, round breasts, he once again found himself in the crosshairs of Zane’s glare. “You think I can’t tell what gutter your mind is rolling around in?” Zane demanded. He gritted his teeth. Nothing about what he wanted to do to Nicole was in any way dirty. Every act would be beautiful and amazing like her. “I promised my wife—” Zane’s face softened, and he smiled at Julianne. “My wife,” he repeated. “I love the sound of that.” “And I love hearing it, so repeat it as often as you like,” she replied, skating her palm along his cheek. He murmured something in her ear, and her eyes brightened along with the color in her cheeks. Then he returned his attention to Wyatt, his smile disappearing and his eyes hardening. “I promised my wife I wouldn’t start a fight with you today, but if you take advantage of my sister, all bets are off tomorrow.” “Understood.” He needed Zane to hit him now and remind him of the guilt his past actions had saddled him with. He’d been noble and had done the right thing last night, but he’d reached the end of his willpower. “What is it with you men?” Nicole demanded, glaring between them. “I’m a big girl. No one is taking advantage of me. If you haven’t noticed, Zane, I’m trying to take advantage of Wyatt. Maybe you ought to worry about what I’m up to.” Zane continued to drill him with his eyes, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Do I have to ask your intentions?” He opened his mouth to assure her brother he had no intentions. “Honorable.” “What’s honorable?” Nicole asked. The single word from his own lips sent him reeling. Sure, he had feelings for her. Sure, he’d tried to do the right thing by turning her down last night. But “honorable” suggested a more lasting relationship, one she had no interest in, one he’d be crazy to jump into after not having any contact with her for fifteen years. “They’d better be,” Zane said, “or my knuckles will be meeting your face. I believe I owe you a broken nose.”
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“Can you please shut up my Neanderthal brother?” Nicole pleaded with Julianne. “My pleasure.” Julianne hooked her arm around Zane’s head and pulled him down until they were locked in a fervent embrace. “Yeah.” Ken put two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly. The photographer knelt on the limo floor, snapping photo after photo, capturing their passion for posterity. Shocked by his unplanned promise, Wyatt sat without moving. He’d fixated on his guilt for fifteen years, but, in the past day, he’d peeled it back far enough to recognize the feelings he’d developed for Nicole as a teen were still alive and growing stronger with every moment he spent in her company. He didn’t have to push her away and be noble to the point of prudish when she gifted him with her panties. He could love her—and love her well—without hurting her or letting anyone else hurt her again. “Has the wedding turned everyone into horny saps?” Nicole demanded, glancing from the bridal couple to Ken and Bethany who were making out, too, and then to him. He laced his fingers through hers. “I don’t like to think of myself as a sap, but you definitely make me horny. And I’ve figured out I’ve been approaching you the wrong way.” “Oh yeah?” Her blue eyes sparkled with humor. “And what’s the right way, seeing as I’ve been playing so hard to get?” “The way you deserve.” He bent his head and captured her lips, silencing her with a kiss. “I like your way,” Nicole murmured. She would like it even more. He’d ensure it.
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Chapter 6 Nicole glanced around the reception hall. She’d assumed she was alone facing the world with only her brother for community support. But the room overflowed with relatives and friends. Sure, a good portion of them were from Julianne’s side. But DeMonde cousins and distant relatives she’d lost touch with or neglected since her mother’s death were in attendance, too, as well as people she’d been friendly with before life had carried them in different directions. “You look like you’re contemplating the meaning of life or something equally profound,” Haley said, approaching the head table. “Nothing profound. I’m just not as alone as I thought.” “Of course you’re not.” Haley squeezed her shoulder from across the table. “You’ve always had friends in Regret Hollow, and now you have family here again, too.” She’d always had Zane, but she couldn’t make his new place her home base. His home was with Julianne, and she wouldn’t intrude on what they were building. “I’ll be coming back more often,” she allowed. “That’s obvious from the way you and Wyatt look at each other.” “He’s not the reason.” Across the room, he chatted with a table of elderly ladies, smiling indulgently at whatever they were telling him. “He’s a complication and a reason to avoid returning. But we’re working our way toward a place where we can be around each other and not feel any effect.” “You keep telling yourself that.” Haley smirked. “You don’t believe me?” “Either you’re platonic with a guy or you want to jump him. If you jump him, you either want to do him again or you want to avoid him for the rest of your life. Moving to platonic isn’t an option.” Haley lifted her gaze as Bethany shifted behind Nicole toward her seat. “Don’t you agree?” Bethany sank into the chair next to Nicole, twirling the stem of her wine glass between
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her fingers. “Well, I’m platonic with most guys, so I don’t think I’m a good judge. But I guess I’d end up in the post-sex avoid category. I’m not even sure good sex is a thing.” “Oh, honey, we have to change that. Pronto,” Haley said, looking horrified. “I’m with Haley on this one,” Nicole agreed. “Good sex is a thing, and we all sure as hell need it. Preferably, often.” Even if she had to spend another fifteen years avoiding Wyatt after they did it, she needed a round of stellar sex to fix the way he’d gotten under her skin. Bethany blushed. “I can’t believe I told you guys this. I’ve had way too much wine.” “Oh no, you need more, so we can come up with a way to fix this seriously urgent problem,” Haley argued. “What’s up with you and Ken? You definitely seemed more than platonic in the limo,” Nicole said. She’d thought she and Wyatt were the only ones not getting anything. Bethany flushed redder. “I hardly know him.” “That’s the type of hookup I recommend,” Haley said. “You can focus on the sex and not let the other stuff get in the way.” “I’m taking your advice,” Nicole declared. Unfortunately, Wyatt only wanted to focus on other stuff and not sex, but she intended to change his mind. “When you live with your mother, other stuff is always in the way,” Bethany murmured. Sharp blinding pain sliced through Nicole, derailing all other thought. She’d have traded all the good sex in the world to have her mother here today. Mom would have loved to have seen Zane and Julianne get their happily ever after. She would have been a rock for Nicole to lean on. “Be glad you still have your mother.” Bethany’s eyes widened and her face paled as if she’d accidently kicked a puppy off a cliff. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. Of course, I’m glad I have my mother, no matter how crazy she drives me.” Nicole closed her eyes, fighting to bury the pain and carry on a normal conversation. “Forget it. I didn’t mean to be bitchy, and you shouldn’t have to censor yourself just because I’m extra-sensitive. Parent talk brings out the worst in me.” “Me, too.” Bethany flashed a tentative smile. “Your dad tells stories about you all the time. He taped a picture of the two of you fishing to the dashboard of his truck. I worry that he stares at it when he should be watching the road. You should know he cares—a lot.”
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Tears blurred Nicole’s eyes. She’d been so angry and bitter and refused to believe his words, but, coming from someone else, she couldn’t dismiss them as easily. “I don’t want it to be weird between you and me or for you to think I’ve replaced you because I’m living in their house,” Bethany continued. Nicole had thought that and resented her for it. Bethany’s ability to be the bigger person made her gripes feel petty. “I guess figuring out our complicated relationships is a minefield for everyone.” “We don’t have to figure it out all at once,” Bethany said. “After all, things didn’t go wrong all at once. No reason to think it’ll fix any faster.” The soothing thought gave her hope for her relationship with her dad. On the other hand, things with Wyatt had gone wrong all at once, at least from her perspective. Maybe one quick night of sex would fix their problems as easily as they’d been created. Speaking of the devil, he cleared his throat as he sauntered toward her. “I’ve been told by the grandma table that I’m supposed to be dancing with beautiful women. Please tell me one of you three will take pity on me so I don’t have to endure another embarrassing lecture where I’m unable to look any of them in the eye.” Intrigued, Nicole pushed her hair over her shoulder. “What did they lecture you about that left you unable to make eye contact?” “The dangers of ending up single and alone and forced to pleasure myself to get any action.” She choked. Haley laughed and slapped his shoulder. “The grannies told you. I’ll be on the dance floor in a minute. Whoever’s bartending can’t make a decent mojito to save his life, so he and I need to have a little chat.” As she left, Ken approached, offering his hand to Bethany. “Dance?” “Sure.” She pushed away her empty wineglass and placed her palm on his, strolling away. Nicole smirked at Wyatt. “So now I’m the only one who can save you from a lonely life of self-pleasure? The power just might go to my head.” “Are you going to show me any mercy?” “From the grannies, by dancing with you? Absolutely. But for the rest of your life, I
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figure you have everything well in hand.” “Smart ass.” Grinning, he offered his arm, leading her around the table and onto the wooden floor. With the fast-paced songs and Wyatt’s relaxed company, she buried her emotional shitstorm and concentrated on him and having fun. Across the floor, she glimpsed her dad dancing with Julianne but immediately refocused on Wyatt’s gyrating hips and increasingly flushed face. The next time she glimpsed Dad, he was dancing with Trudy. Had he ever danced with her mother like that, or had he been too busy drinking to enjoy a few moments with her? She danced harder, trying to block the memories of all the times Mom had cried over him. A few minutes later, she turned to see him cutting in on Ken to dance with Bethany. This time, the knee-jerk anger that Bethany was taking her place as his daughter didn’t wash over her, but neither was she entirely comfortable with the family her father had created after turning his back on his first one. A slow song started, and Wyatt tugged her into his arms. She resisted for a moment, afraid her emotions might race ahead and delude her into believing they shared more than a physical closeness. No, she knew what she was getting into with Wyatt, where it would lead, and where it would end. She had nothing to worry about. As she leaned in, Dad tapped Wyatt on the shoulder, and he shifted before she had a chance to snuggle close. “May I have this dance with my daughter?” Wyatt pulled away from her. “I can hardly refuse. What do you say, Nicole?” No. Definitely no. This would require far more closeness and contact than pinning a boutonniere, and what if he expected to talk while they danced? She could barely cope with seeing him across the room in the periphery of her life. Wyatt tipped his head and nudged her. She swallowed. Everyone was dancing with everyone tonight. Not dancing with her father would raise more eyebrows. Common courtesy didn’t cost her anything, and she might even ease some of her guilt for last night’s behavior and for lashing out at Bethany earlier. With a deep breath, she released Wyatt and faced her dad. “Perfect timing. I was just going to find a new partner who wouldn’t step on my toes.”
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“Hey, I only stepped on them once,” Wyatt protested. “Twice,” she corrected. “Three times, if we double count the time you stepped on both feet at once.” “I can’t promise to be a better partner, but I haven’t stepped on two feet at once yet tonight,” Dad said, placing one hand on her back and steering her deeper onto the dance floor. “Yet,” she repeated, fighting a smile at the banter. She could do this. Every interaction didn’t have to be momentous and charged with past baggage. “I’m sorry for not being the father I should have been,” he whispered into her ear. She squeezed her eyes closed. So much for pretending the baggage didn’t exist. “I wanted you to rot in hell for a long time, but I’m working on forgiving you. Being generous and bighearted really isn’t my forte.” He tipped her chin with his index finger, and, surprised by the touch, she opened her eyes. “Thank you. That means more to me than you know.” His eyes glistened. “I don’t expect forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it. I don’t deserve it. But I do want to find a way to be part of your life again. However small and insignificant the role would be to you, it would mean the world to me.” “I don’t know what I can handle,” she admitted, her throat swelling around each word, “but no matter how small, it wouldn’t be insignificant to me.” “Oh, Nikki.” Dad hugged her tight against his chest. She blinked, trying to keep the tears at bay, no longer bothering to argue with him about her name. Some part of her always had been and always would remain his little girl. Across the dance floor, Wyatt smiled and offered a thumbs-up as he danced with his Aunt Mabel. She sent him a wobbly smile in return. Someday, she and her father would find a way to be a family again, and she’d have to thank Wyatt for convincing her to give the relationship a chance. As the song wrapped up, Wyatt returned to her, and she wrapped her arms around him, relieved for the familiarity of his embrace. She didn’t have to pretend or try with him. She could just be. Crap, did that mean she actually trusted him? No, of course she didn’t.
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Yes, she did. With her body and her physical well-being and her secrets. But not her heart. Never her heart. So, she was safe. She wasn’t doing anything stupid where she could get hurt. They’d managed to work through the past to the point where they could be in the same room together. Once they put their attraction behind them, they’d be able to relax as friends in each other’s company. For the rest of the evening, they danced, visited with family and friends around the reception hall, and returned to dance together again. As the final notes of the last slow song of the night died away, she snuggled in his arms, returning full circle to her original teenage belief that Wyatt would make an amazing boyfriend. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be hers for more than tonight. “Is it too soon for me to invite you to spend the night at my place?” he whispered. “Too soon? I’m the girl who gave you her underwear to wrangle an invitation out of you, remember?” Yep, she would lock up her heart and work him out of her system. One night was the perfect solution. She’d enjoy his body and leave on her own terms. If they saw each other again, they would be nothing more than platonic friends. “I enjoy your wrangling attempts.” He slanted his lips over hers and gently kissed her before pulling away. While he arranged rides for a couple of guests who’d overindulged at the bar, she pulled out her phone and messaged the rental car company, instructing them to deliver her replacement vehicle to Wyatt’s house in the morning and leave the keys in the mailbox. After settling the logistics and details, she turned off her phone and allowed Wyatt to become her sole focus, just as he’d been the summer she’d turned seventeen. But, unlike then, she wouldn’t let him dictate every move of their encounter. Riding to his house in his truck, she teased her fingertips over the back of his neck. Then, as he shifted into park in the driveway, she traced her fingernail along his lips. “Race you inside.” He grinned. “I’ll give you a head start since you’re wearing heels. But”—he dangled the keys in front of her face—“I may have an unfair advantage.” She grabbed for them, but he snatched them away, laughing, as he took his sweet time sauntering to the door. Damn. She hadn’t thought through that bid for control. She followed him inside then turned, backing him against the door as he closed it. Threading her fingers
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through his hair, she kissed him hard. “Coffee?” he asked, not pulling his mouth from hers. “No. Just you.” Nothing to make her think. Nothing to complicate their lust with emotions and vulnerability. “I’ve been imagining the texture of your skin all evening.” “Time to find out if reality can match your imagination.” She lifted his hand and guided it to her breast. The warmth of his palm seeped through the fabric of her dress. “I imagined something more along these lines.” He dipped his head and glided his tongue into her cleavage. “That works for me, too.” Understatement of the year. She needed the door behind her to support her wobbly muscles. Clasping the top of his head, she tugged him closer. His whiskers rubbed the sensitive, exposed tops of her breasts, but her clothing prevented the contact with her nipples she craved. Releasing him, she reached behind her and yanked the zipper. Wyatt looked up, his hazel eyes wide. “What? I don’t like to have sex fully dressed. I prefer a full-body experience.” He straightened. “I guarantee you a full-body experience.” “Good. That had better extend to your body, too. Start working on your buttons.” She kicked off her shoes and pushed her dress down her hips. Stepping out of it, she nudged it and her footwear out of the way with her toes. Instead of loosening his collar, Wyatt stepped away, his gaze roaming over her plumcolored strapless bra and lace panties. She waited for him to pounce on what she offered, but he didn’t move toward her and didn’t say a word. So she wasn’t anywhere close to model thin. She thought he’d accepted that already and they were in this together. Now, not only did the opposite appear true, but she stood passively waiting for him to accept or reject her, exactly what she’d vowed not to let happen. “You know, I would like some coffee.” He reached for her hand. She jerked away. If she had stuck with her original plan to keep her distance, he wouldn’t have been able to hurt her. But, along with her dress, she’d tossed aside her promise never to reveal her vulnerability to him again.
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Chapter 7 “You invited me to spend the night. I didn’t agree to sit around and drink coffee. I agreed so we could fuck like bunnies. If you don’t want that, then I’ll leave.” Now Nicole spoke like a woman who demanded what she wanted and refused to take anything less. “I want this as much as you do, believe me. I just don’t want to rush it.” She pushed his tuxedo jacket from his shoulders while claiming his mouth and sucking on his bottom lip. “You want to call the shots and have me go along with your desires until you’ve had enough to last you another fifteen years and you’ve messed with my head enough to screw me up for at least that long.” “What I mean,” he said, capturing her hands and squeezing them, “is I want to make sex good for you, and I want to make it last.” She shivered and pulled her hands free. She couldn’t trust him, of course not with her heart, but not with her body either, not the way he was turning her on, only to tease her with her own need. “If we go your speed, I’ll implode in about three minutes, and you’ll regret coming here. I don’t want you to have second thoughts.” Shrugging out of his jacket, he draped it over her shoulders. “Three minutes?” The warmth of the coat enveloped her, chasing away the chill of his rejection. Dredging up the willpower not to bury her nose in the lapels and lose herself in his scent, she slid her arms into the too-long sleeves and tugged the edge of the jacket over the bottom of her ass. His eyes glittered. “Forget three minutes. I won’t last more than a minute. That is a seriously hot look.” Reaching inside her sleeve, he grasped her hand, his hot palm searing hers. “But I’m not playing the slam-bam-I’m-outta-here-ma’am game with you. That’s why I’m going to make coffee.” “Coffee’s going to keep you going past the three-minute mark? I didn’t know it had such, um, prolonging properties.”
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He threaded his fingers with hers, tugging her toward the kitchen. “Sipping coffee is going to give me a chance to put this raging lust into simmer mode, so I can last long enough to give you every ounce of pleasure you deserve.” “Oh, that sounds acceptable.” Her short-circuiting brain had nothing left but a lame comeback. “You’ll find it more than acceptable. I’m aiming for screamingly delightful.” After squeezing her once more, he released her hand and reached for the coffee grounds. Trying not to whimper from both the loss of contact and the bone-deep need his words inspired, she leaned against the counter, searching for words to temper his high opinion of his prowess. “However you want to describe it, the coffee should at least keep us awake for the finish.” He shifted toward the sink, filling a carafe with water, but his gaze locked on the hem of her jacket. “For the record, I’m making decaf. Those glimpses of your lacy panties underneath my coat are shooting a bigger jolt into my veins than if I was mainlining espresso. If you need help staying awake, I’m your man.” Her toes curled. Her man. She shouldn’t get too attached to that phrase. Yeah, too late. While he dumped the water in the pot, she stepped behind him and circled him with her arms, pressing her cheek to his back. Gliding her hands across his chest, she released his shirt buttons and tugged the fabric free of his waistband. After setting the coffee to brew, he turned around in her arms, his lips curling. “I don’t think you were listening to my plea.” “Oh, I was listening. I just don’t appreciate you controlling the moves and the timing, hot shot.” “Well, let’s see if I can find something you will appreciate.” He traced his mouth over hers, kissing her gently then slowly demanding more. Settling his hands on her waist, he nibbled down her neck. The tender approach threw her off-balance. She tipped her head and arched her back, desperate to return to the pure-lust zone. “I’ll appreciate it more if you suck my breasts.” Skimming over her breasts, he kissed down her navel, kneeling before her. “Have I mentioned this panty and jacket combination drives me crazy?” Couldn’t be any crazier than he was driving her. Even though he refused to follow her
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directions, her ache for him ballooned until she could hardly stand it. “If you did, I forgot. Tell me again.” Instead of speaking, he gripped her ass and pulled her to his face. His hot breath steamed her through the satin and lace of her panties. He teased around the elastic edges and tugged the fabric. “Yeah, take them off.” Moaning, she lifted one leg and braced her foot on his thigh, counterbalancing her back against the counter. He didn’t remove the fabric, instead licking along the panty line so damn close to where she wanted his tongue. Oh, yes. “Come inside me now.” He shook his head, his stubble teasing her sensitive inner thigh. “Not yet.” Now she was the one who wouldn’t last three minutes. “You better at least get me off with your fingers. Otherwise, I’m going to make myself come.” His grip tightened on her hips, and he stood, shifting his hands higher, immobilizing her arms while enfolding her in a cherishing embrace. “I’m pretty sure watching you get yourself off would be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, but trust me when I tell you I’m not going to leave you less than satisfied.” She pulled her arms free, wanting to trust him but still aching and terrified of giving him the control he asked for. “Are you playing games with me? Because you’ve played with my affection before, and getting hurt sucks.” He closed his eyes, and, when he reopened them, the regret shining out wrapped around her, squeezing her heart. “No. I’m trying to go slowly and treat you with the care and time you deserve, but then I kiss you and I spin out of control. I want to taste you from the inside out but not with the hard counter digging into your back and the coffeemaker gurgling in your ear.” She shivered, her pelvis bumping his erection and intensifying the ache his words stirred inside her. Avoiding his gaze, she straightened his crooked bow tie. “I could use a cup of coffee if you’re still offering.” “I’m offering everything,” he said. “Yeah, just not right now.” She blew out the last of her frustrations with a laugh and met his gaze. “Tell me you have cream for that coffee.”
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“In the fridge.” He poured two steaming mugs while she found the cream. If he truly meant to build the anticipation for a great orgasm, she could certainly get onboard with the game plan. His pent-up desire gave every appearance of matching hers. But she still couldn’t rule out the possibility of him stringing her along and playing with her emotions. Accepting a mug from him, she doctored her coffee. The possibility of his motivations being anything other than great sex shouldn’t matter. She’d already locked up her heart. He couldn’t hurt her. The rental company wouldn’t deliver her car for hours, so she couldn’t leave the moment they both orgasmed. Avoiding a too-early, awkward post-sex situation when they’d fulfilled their needs and no longer wanted to share each other’s company made a lot of sense. After she returned the cream to the fridge, he held out his hand. “Come to the couch.” She raised an eyebrow. “Not your bedroom?” “Not yet. I don’t want you to fall asleep on me.” Fat chance. But she grinned as she clasped his palm and wandered to the room with the comfy furniture and interesting artwork. “I’m not the one who made the coffee decaf and is now sweating over the promise he’d be enough to keep me awake.” He chuckled. “If you’re trying to convince me to bite, it won’t work. You have to be patient.” “Your loss. Especially when you could, you know, bite my ass.” She sank onto the couch and smirked at him. “I know what you’re doing, but you’re forgetting I work in law enforcement. I can spot when someone’s trying to cause trouble.” He sat on the opposite end of the sofa, leaving an entire cushion between them. Aching for the warmth and strength of his body, she looked pointedly at the empty cushion. “You had better moves when you were a teen.” He laughed and set his mug on the side table. “You’ll issue a retraction before the evening’s over. Give me your foot.” His confidence to laugh off her criticism of his technique increased his sexiness. She tipped her head until it rested on the back cushion then stared up at the shoe collage on the
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wall behind them. “You really do have a foot fetish.” “I have a Nicole fetish,” he murmured. “And I’m trying to balance my need to touch you with my pledge not to immediately jump you.” “A pledge that I strongly advised against, for the record.” Assured they shared the same ultimate physical goals, she shifted sideways, resting her head on the cushioned armrest and stretching her legs across the couch. Wyatt massaged her foot, his thumb zeroing in on the ache at the top of her arch courtesy of the ill-fitting bridesmaid shoes. She closed her eyes and savored each tender stroke. “That feels good. I shouldn’t tease you about your foot obsession when I reap the benefits of it.” “Don’t you fall asleep on me, or I’ll have to stop. Tell me about your job and what it’s like to constantly travel and never have your own bed to come home to.” She opened her eyes to squint at him. “You want to know about my job while I’m wearing nothing but underwear and your jacket?” His hands stilled on her feet. “I want to know a lot more, but your job is a good place to start. We’ve skipped some important steps while diving headfirst into this relationship.” “I thought we were just picking and choosing the fun steps.” Because they sure as hell weren’t diving into a relationship. When he didn’t crack a smile at her attempt at lightheartedness, she sighed. “All right. If it keeps the massage going, I’ll talk. I travel for my job. What else do you want to know?” “How about your schedule and where you live when you’re not traveling, to start with.” “I live wherever the client needs me to be. If I had a gap in my schedule or a holiday, I used to hang out at Zane’s place. I haven’t decided what I’ll claim as my permanent address once he sells his condo in the city, but I pretty much live wherever I want.” “So you could live in Regret Hollow and travel when you needed to? Your brother said the trip to the airport was just twenty minutes longer from here with a lot less traffic versus his old place.” She shrugged, not wanting to deal with the logistics and complications tonight. “Zane and Julianne need their space. Even if I’m never around, they don’t want the worry that I might pop in at any moment.” “I’ll give you a key to my house. Problem solved.”
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Nicole bobbled her mug, nearly spilling hot coffee on her chest. He had to be joking. The awkwardness of her interrupting him in an intimate moment would be a hundred times worse than disturbing her brother. “And you’ll create fifty more problems.” He rubbed her arch again. “We can talk through those problems. First, tell me what kind of job requires full-time travel.” Jumping on the change of subject, she said, “I design corporate and municipal building interiors to optimize their space and project their company image and brand.” She paused then added, “Since Zane’s not in earshot to ridicule me, I’ll admit I consider my work art.” Wyatt didn’t smirk or roll his eyes the way her brother would have. He simply met her gaze and said, “Tell me.” She sipped her coffee. She could prattle for hours about blending aestheticism and functionality, but few people shared her career passion. She’d bore Wyatt within minutes. He’d admitted he had no affinity for the art he’d bought at his sister’s auction, although he’d also shown his willingness to explore and display it. Well, if she bored him so much that he wanted nothing to do with her, she was leaving in the morning anyway. She talked, haltingly at first then in a torrent of words. At some point, Wyatt shifted his hands up her ankles and began rubbing her calves. She drained her mug and set it aside, answering his questions and talking some more. At last, she paused, amazed at how good it felt to let her feelings and convictions spill from her, leaving her empty and free. She cocked an eyebrow. “Sorry you asked?” Resting his hands just above her knees, he squeezed gently. “No. I want to learn everything about you.” The declaration sounded momentous and intimate, something that should have been uttered only by someone who truly cared. But, of course, he was playing a seduction game. Unlike most players, he engaged her mind as well as her body in his plan to take their slow burn of passion to an earth-shattering orgasm. She preferred he keep his seduction ordinary and focus exclusively on the physical. “I’m pretty sure you’ll find a few secrets if you keep exploring up my thighs.” “Believe me, I intend to.” He hovered over her and brushed his lips across hers. She reached up to pull his weight onto her, but he drew back before she could. “How long are you going to keep teasing me?”
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“I’m not teasing.” He swiveled her body, positioning her feet on the floor. Then he tugged her lower, until her ass rested at the edge of the cushion. Kneeling on the floor between her legs, he regarded her earnestly. She wanted to speak, to command him, but she couldn’t breathe, let alone say a word. Too many times already, he’d reconsidered and pulled away. He caressed her thighs again and then angled in, his hot breath searing her through her panties a moment before his teeth closed on the fabric and dragged them down. “Are you ready to watch me pleasure myself?” she asked. Hell, she wouldn’t have to do much before she came. The foreplay, the conversations, and his simple presence had left her on the brink for hours. “No. I’m way past the point of sitting back and watching. I need to touch and taste every inch of you.” His gaze scorched her with the same heat radiating from the rest of his body. “Well, what are you waiting for then?” She managed to push the words out, instead of the incoherent moaning and thrashing she teetered on the verge of. “I’m not waiting for anything. I’m savoring the moment.” “But you’re not touching me.” Frustration and desire slammed through her. Curving his hands around her hips, he drew his face straight to her center and speared his tongue inside her. “Oh, that’s…perfect.” She stopped trying to speak and simply let the waves of pleasure from his beautiful, clever tongue ride over her, pulling her under. Each caress was pure sweetness, unbearably tender. She wanted to drown in him forever. She let her legs fall open wider. He trailed kisses and nibbles along her inner thigh. Her breath caught, and she raised her hips to grant him better access. He scraped his teeth across her buttocks, and scalding desire flooded her. “I’m coming,” she cried. He returned his hot lips and wicked tongue to her pussy and dove into her. White hot pleasure exploded through her. She dug her fingers into the couch cushions and screamed his name as he stroked her through every delicious beat of the orgasm, gliding her to reality every bit as sweetly as he’d taken it from her. At last, he shifted, keeping her body close and resting his chin on her navel. Steeling herself for the possibility of his jerky side coming out post-intimacy, she opened her eyes
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and raised her head enough to check out his expression. The tenderness in his gaze brought tears to her eyes. Then he smiled, and her heart tripped. Oh no, she’d been down this road before, reading emotions that didn’t exist into his expression. Wyatt swept her away, leaving her unable to trust her intuition. She sat up and pulled his face to hers. Kissing him hard, she tasted sex and coffee. “Time for me to strip you and have my way with you.” “Please do,” he agreed. The need straining his voice, along with his acquiescence, helped her regain her footing. She stood and pulled him toward the stairs. Of course, she couldn’t ever fully trust him, but she had a hundred times more faith in him than when he’d descended these same steps yesterday. She marched backwards up the stairs, pushing his shirt from his shoulders and tossing it aside as she went, while he ran his hands over her buttocks. Clutching the waistband of his pants, she tugged him up to the landing and dropped his trousers. After gesturing for him to step out of them, she surveyed the three open doorways in front of her. “Which one is your bedroom?” “Left.” She veered in that direction, shrugging his tuxedo jacket from her shoulders. Wyatt pulled the lapels tight. “Leave it. Seeing you in my clothes drives me crazy.” “All right. But this goes.” She unhooked the strapless bra, letting it fall from inside the coat. “I could compromise with you forever.” He shifted the V-opening of the jacket to the right, revealing her breast then knelt and encircled the nipple with his mouth. Her eyelids slammed down, and she leaned on the doorframe, a moan spilling from her. “This is not what I meant about having my way with you.” He lifted his head. “Are you complaining?” “About how amazing and sexy and generous you are? Of course not.” She gripped his forearms, tugging him up to his full height, and then rocked her pelvis against him. “But you’re still wearing your briefs. You’re distracting me from keeping up my end of the bargain.” “Strip me. Then you can decide if you want to have your way with me standing, sitting, or lying down.”
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“My favorite multiple choice questions come with an all-of-the-above option,” she murmured. “Now tell me you have condoms up here so I don’t have to ruin the moment by running downstairs in the almost nude to find my purse.” He grinned. “There is no scenario where you running naked through my house ruins anything, but the top nightstand drawer will get us working on option ‘all of the above’ sooner.” Nicole crossed to the nightstand, grateful her back was to him because her hand shook as she pulled the drawer open and extracted a handful of packets. Of course she was ready for this. She wanted it practically more than life itself. But that strength of need scared her. Somehow the line between incredible sex and emotional connection blurred until she couldn’t explain the distinction, let alone try to create one.
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Chapter 8 Nicole tossed all but one packet on the bed then crooked her finger to Wyatt, making him come to her as a reminder she was in charge and having her way with him. After he stopped in front of her, she wrapped her fist around the waistband of his briefs and dragged them down. His erection bobbed proud and free, and he exhaled raggedly. “This is what you do to me, Nicole.” She loved how he didn’t try to hide or make excuses for his reaction. “Good. Since you’re being honest, I won’t remind you that it’s your own fault you’ve had to wait so long. Lie down.” She nudged him onto the bed. He chuckled roughly. “I don’t think I can wait any longer. Give me the condom.” “Nope.” She held it out of reach. After he lay flat on his back, she suited him up. He gripped her hips. “I don’t want to hurt you. Let me help you get ready.” “Trust me. You’ve been super helpful with that all night.” She straddled him and slid his cock through her wetness to prove her readiness to take him in. “Oh God, Nicole. Fuck me, please. I won’t hurt you like last time.” She thrust down on him, needing to stop the empty promises he should have been too incoherent to speak. And it worked. His words turned to a guttural moan. For a moment, she closed her eyes and savored holding him inside her. Then she lifted and thrust down, setting a strong, steady pace. Not only would she rock his world with an orgasm he’d remember, but she’d show him she’d picked up a few techniques since she was seventeen. After a few more beats, need obliterated her ability to temper her pace and apply any semblance of technique. She rocked on instinct and burning need alone. Trembling from head to toe, she gave him everything she had, plunging down and pulling back to offer more. Again and again. He stiffened then gripped her tighter. She spun out of control, exploding in a million pieces and then a million more as his hot release filled
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her. Nothing felt more right than sprawling across Wyatt’s chest with his arms around her. For the rest of the night, she allowed herself to succumb to the perfection. ### Nicole woke to the first rays of dawn graying the night sky. She lay naked on an unfamiliar bed with an equally naked male body spooned behind her—Wyatt, aroused as he slept, despite how many times they’d gone at each other last night. If she shifted, she could take him inside her again. But the nightstand was on the other side of the bed, and she didn’t have a condom within reach. Anyway, if she woke him with sex, she’d stay in his bed until he finally kicked her out. Eventually, he would have enough of her and want to get on with his life without her in it, causing the past to repeat itself. They’d had a one-night fling. She’d asked for it—demanded it, in fact. Her plan to work him out of her system had backfired spectacularly, but she could still prove she’d grown into a strong woman with a heart of steel. She scooted out of bed but couldn’t resist studying him in the dim pre-dawn light. With his tough persona relaxed, he appeared every bit as sweet as he’d treated her last night. She leaned down to kiss his sculpted jaw but drew back before she connected. Tender kisses were the actions of a woman in love, which she was not. Besides, her car had arrived, and she needed to leave. If she woke him, she wouldn’t be able to walk away. She rounded the bed and stepped over the tuxedo jacket he’d finally allowed her to shed then picked up her bra from the floor. Hooking it while she walked, she headed downstairs, pausing at the base to stare at the couch where he’d caressed her and listened to her for hours last night. What would it be like to return to his house on Friday evenings, snuggle on the couch, and sip coffee while debriefing each other on the highs and lows of their week? No, she couldn’t get sucked into a fantasy that would betray her and leave her hurt. She’d known from the beginning her moments with Wyatt would be temporary. She had to leave him before he awoke and ended their fling first. She would not repeat the past. Ignoring her heaving stomach, she shimmied into her wrinkled dress. Outside, an
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unfamiliar car sat at the curb at the end of the driveway, as she’d requested. The rental company had come through. Why, oh why, did something going right for the first time this weekend fill her eyes with tears? Stick to the plan. Get away before he breaks your heart. Legs trembling, she stepped into her shoes. Wyatt had professed he hadn’t regretted sleeping with her, only leaving her. Perhaps, she, too, would only regret the leaving, not the sex, but she’d regret more if she stayed and waited for him to dump her. Picking up her purse, she surveyed his living room a final time before releasing the deadbolt in the front door. “Good-bye, Wyatt.” She’d left no note and no trace of herself behind. By immersing herself in work, she wouldn’t give the man who’d haunted her memories of the past a second thought. After stepping outside and closing the door, she retrieved the car keys from the mailbox. Taking deep breaths, she marched to the car then drove down the street. Three blocks away, she realized she’d left her underwear in his living room. So much for leaving nothing behind. She squeezed the steering wheel and kept driving. As long as she hadn’t left her heart with him, she’d walked away with everything that mattered. After a quick stop at the bed and breakfast to collect the rest of her belongings and change into something travel worthy, she turned the car out of town, pressing the gas pedal to the floor, flaunting the speed limit. If the flashing lights of a squad car appeared in her rearview mirror, she’d give Wyatt a chance to convince her she was making a terrible mistake. But no one stopped her, and she reached the airport in record time. The ticket agent happily took her money in exchange for a ticket on an earlier flight to San Diego. She could get a head start on her job for the next month while getting away before she changed her mind and returned to Wyatt professing her love and desire for a long-term relationship, foolish things he’d never wanted from her. Once the effects of great sex and the fantasy wedding weekend wore off, she’d stop believing she wanted those things, too. Within two hours of waking in Wyatt’s bed, she’d ascended thirty thousand feet in the air, returning to her real life of urgent emails, design plans, and demanding clients, a life that held no room for a relationship with a small-town cop.
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### Wyatt waited for Nicole to return to bed with the coffee he assumed she’d gone downstairs for. When the door clicked, his mouth watered as he imagined hot omelets from the No Regrets Café. Only after an hour did he consider food might not have been the reason she’d left. By the time he ran out of excuses for her absence, she’d long since checked out of the bed and breakfast. He circled town twice before accepting the truth—she’d left him without saying good-bye. She’d thrown herself at him and made love to him like he was the center of her world then walked away as if he meant nothing. Just like he’d done to her fifteen years ago. Because he hadn’t been able to imagine having a fling with her and then letting her go, he’d assumed she felt the same way. He should have spilled his guts when they’d talked on the couch, instead of simply soaking in everything he could learn about her. He wanted forever, but he hadn’t even rated a good-bye kiss. Dammit, how could he mean so little to her? Had she been playing their relationship for revenge from the beginning? Pulling to the side of the road, he punched her number into his cell phone. The call went straight to voice mail. He choked out a stilted message that didn’t come close to conveying the turmoil roiling inside him. “Call me,” he concluded. He couldn’t even follow her. As much as she’d told him about her work and her life, she hadn’t said what city her next job was in. Zane could help him narrow down his search. Of course, her brother would probably beat the crap out of Wyatt before handing over any information. He’d take whatever punishment Zane thought he deserved. The guilt he thought he’d conquered welled inside him. If Nicole had felt the need to take revenge on him, then she hadn’t moved beyond the past like she’d professed. He scrolled to Zane’s contact information but didn’t dial. He couldn’t interrupt his sister’s honeymoon for something no one else would consider an emergency. Only his heart teetered on the verge of life and death. Tucking away the phone, Wyatt pointed the squad car toward the police station. He’d immerse himself in work, enforcing laws and carrying out justice. Nicole, though, had
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cornered the market on eye-for-an-eye-style justice. How she’d survived his teenage actions mystified him. He’d gotten what he deserved, which was exactly what he’d hoped for at the beginning of the weekend. Instead of feeling relieved and facing a clean slate on life, he ached from the inside out.
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Chapter 9 Nicole wanted to go home. The job was great. The clients were easy to work with. The hotel accommodated her every request. And she wished she was a thousand miles away. Although she’d made San Diego her home for the month, it didn’t feel like home. She missed the house in Regret Hollow where she’d cuddled on the couch and sipped coffee and talked about anything and everything with a guy who actually got her. She tugged on her beige blazer and adjusted the shoulder strap of her laptop case as she turned the corner, bringing the hotel into sight. Weddings made single people do stupid things, and she’d not only joined the stupidity ranks, she’d taken a promotion to commanding officer. Wyatt had called her exactly once after she left, a courtesy post-sex check-in, proof that their night together had only been a fling. Unable to pretend her plan to work him out of her system had succeeded, she hadn’t returned the call. But home wasn’t just about a guy or a house. It was about an entire support system. Even without Wyatt, she still might find the place where she belonged. Pulling her phone from her bag, she scrolled through to a new contact she’d never dialed before and clicked the number. Before the second ring, he picked up. “Len’s Landscaping.” “Hi, Dad.” “Nikki!” The joy in his voice brought tears to her eyes. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.” She winced at her lame opening. His tone had assured her he wouldn’t have considered it a bad time if his house was burning. “No, no, of course not. How are you?” “Not so good. I mean, I’m fine. I just—” She ran a hand through her hair. “I’ve been treating a lot of people crappy lately, and since you top the list, I wanted to call and see if I can apologize in person.”
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“You want me to come visit you?” The implicit offer in his words warmed her heart. “Actually, I was hoping I could visit you.” A beat of silence followed. Then her father’s voice, gruffer and more emotion packed than before, filled her ear. “My home is your home. You’re always welcome, for as long as you want to stay.” Her throat ached with a lump that refused to dislodge. “I wish I could hug you right now, but I will soon.” She’d fix her relationship with her father then figure out if she could salvage anything from her mistakes with Wyatt. ### Mundane tasks brought him to a standstill. He couldn’t fix a pot of coffee without lusting over the image of Nicole wearing only his jacket and her panties in his kitchen. He couldn’t sit on the couch to watch TV without replaying everything she’d confided in him about her career and her life. And he certainly couldn’t lie on his bed and expect to sleep. Searching for the TV remote, Wyatt pulled a pair of purple panties from under the couch. For a moment, he could only stare, the symbol of how she’d trusted him with every inch of her body cutting off his ability to breathe. She might have claimed they were only having a fling, but she wouldn’t have wasted her time talking about her dreams if she hadn’t trusted him with them. Even after he’d hurt her so badly in the past, she trusted him. He hadn’t trusted her with his dreams of forever or his heart, but he still could. Hope swelled in his chest for the first time since she’d walked out. Maybe she hadn’t been doling out justice and revenge. She’d assured him she’d forgiven him before taking him to bed. Now he had to hope she hadn’t already moved on from him. Since his rounds through town had clued him in that Zane and Julianne had returned from their honeymoon, he jumped off the couch and drove to their house. “I need to know where I can find Nicole.” Leaning lazily against the doorframe, Zane shrugged. “Ask her yourself.” “She’s not answering me.” She’d never replied to his frantic call, even to assure him she
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was safe. Zane narrowed his gaze and straightened his stance. “Why? What’d you do?” Fell in love with her. Not that her brother would believe him. He might not be able to convince Nicole of the truth either. “Go ahead. Punch me in the face. We both know I deserve it. Just tell me where to find her.” Zane clenched his fist but otherwise didn’t move. “What are you going to do if I tell you?” “Point my truck in that direction if it’s within a day’s drive. Buy a ticket and fly out to see her if it’s not.” The thought of boarding a plane made Wyatt shudder, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to lay out his heart for Nicole and hope she would accept him as enough to complete her. “And when you find her?” Zane pressed. He wanted to save the words for her, but first he needed the chance to say them. “Try to explain how much I love her and how empty my life is without her then beg her to marry me.” Zane relaxed his clenched fists, but his posture remained tense. “You do see the irony, don’t you? You beat the crap out of me fifteen years ago when my only crime was loving your sister more than life itself.” “We’ve come full circle,” Wyatt agreed, his stomach queasy. The guilt he could handle, but his need for Nicole erased his last ounce of pride. He held his hands out at his sides. “Give me your best right hook. I believe that’s the punch I started with.” Zane shook his head. “I’m not going to punch you…now. You might get a better response from my sister if your ugly face is intact. She’s in San Diego, staying at the Sunburst.” “Thank you.” Hell, of course, she had to be as far away as possible to force him on an airplane. He headed back to his squad car and cruised through town. He’d stop at his parents’ house. They traveled regularly and could point him to the easiest website to buy plane tickets. He turned down a street and slowed. Ahead, a woman emerged from a beige sedan she’d parked directly behind the landscaping trailer in front of Len’s house. He flipped on his flashers and pulled behind her. He’d never been in a situation as risky as this one. The
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one weapon she had could stop his heart in a way no bullet-proof vest could protect him from. ### Nicole paused, her rolling suitcase half out of the trunk, as the cop sauntered toward her. He stopped six feet away. “Car trouble, ma’am?” he drawled, his shoulders bunched, as if he expected her to be trouble. She sucked in a deep breath, her heart too big for her tight chest. “No, sir, I’ve just arrived home for a visit.” The word home felt strange on her tongue but in a good way. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “We’re always glad to have you back. Are you sure this is the house you intend to visit?” “It is.” Did she dare hope disappointment flickered across his features with her answer, or had her imagination shifted into overdrive? “Do you have any other stops planned while you’re in town?” His tone gave away no indication he wanted her to visit him. She couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. “Is this an official interrogation?” “No, but I’d appreciate an answer, since I was about ten minutes from buying a plane ticket to San Diego.” Her heart thudded, and her rib cage constricted even more. It couldn’t be a coincidence he’d been heading to the city where she’d been hours earlier. “Any special reason?” “I need to investigate a crime.” Her heart plummeted. Of course he wouldn’t fly across the country to prove how much he loved her and couldn’t live without her. She’d projected her own brokenhearted needs on him. “Can’t the San Diego police investigate for you?” “This is personal.” He took a step toward her for the first time since he’d started speaking. “See, there’s this guy who was a total teenage jerk and was responsible for abandonment, mistreatment, and insensitivity. I thought he’d turned himself around. But now he’s guilty of wanting more than a one-night stand, and he neglected to tell this to the woman he loves.”
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Nicole staggered against the sedan, in desperate need of support to keep her upright. Wyatt looking straight at her and speaking the L word was more than she’d hoped for. Perhaps she was missing something and reading him wrong. “My standing policy is to forgive the guilty party and walk away,” she stammered. “But I don’t think that’s going to work in this case.” “I agree.” He took another step toward her, so close he could have touched her but didn’t. “Nothing short of a life sentence will do.” She bit her lip, scared to believe but wanting so badly to accept the implied offer. “Sounds like quite a commitment.” He gave a small shrug, but the movement came off as tense. He hadn’t seemed nervous the entire weekend they’d spent together, but now he revealed his vulnerability. “I happen to be a big believer in justice,” he said gruffly. “Hazard of the profession.” Tears blurred his beautiful image, and she blinked. She couldn’t play this game anymore. She didn’t want a fling. She couldn’t work Wyatt Truman out of her system. “In that case, you’d have to hold me again and make love to me. I’m scared to death of being vulnerable with you and of getting hurt again.” He encircled her with his arms before she could say anything else, kissing the tears from her cheeks with so much tenderness she had no doubt of his sincerity. “I’ve got your back, I promise. We’ll take it as slowly as you want. I love you. I’m going to do everything in my power to make you happy for the rest of your life.” Nicole gulped and wiped her eyes. They had both grown and changed from the people they once were. She’d helped him overcome his guilt, and he was proving that she could be vulnerable and trust him with her heart. Studying his intense hazel eyes, she slid a finger down his cheek. She’d avoided saying these words her whole life, but she didn’t need to shy away from them any longer. “I love you.” He relaxed and covered her mouth in an eager, passionate kiss. “How much will your dad hate me if I steal you away and make my house your first home?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. “He won’t hate you. I never would have given him a chance if it hadn’t been for you.” A throat cleared behind them. “She’s right, but you two are showing a bit too much
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affection in public, wouldn’t you say?” Nicole lifted her head and smiled at her dad. “Guilty as charged.” “Better take it to your house, Wyatt,” Dad said. “But meet me for breakfast at the café in the morning.” “Yes, sir.” Wyatt grinned then kissed her again. As he hauled her to the cop car, she gave him her best bad-girl smile. “While you drive, I’ll be sitting in the backseat planning all the ways to be so naughty you’ll have no choice but to book me for life.” His eyes blazed with an endless supply of love and desire. “I have never been so eager to find someone guilty. Hold that thought and buckle your seat belt. We’re going to straight to my bedroom jail.”
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The Bad Boys of Regret Hollow Series continues with…
The Bad Boy’s Guarantee Seth Gardner told everyone who set foot in his law office that handshake agreements were a lawsuit waiting to happen. Problem was, nobody, including his own family, believed him until they were furious, terrified, and determined to take legal action to save what they’d assumed would forever be theirs. After years of faithfully paying their rent to occupy the pizzeria building in Regret Hollow, Wisconsin, his aunt and uncle stood on the precipice of losing everything because the landowner and operator of the adjoining bar hadn’t been nearly as faithful to his financial obligations. Aunt Cheryl and Uncle Mike had been Seth’s saviors when he was an orphaned teen. Now they needed him to save their business. Instead of heading home after a long day at his Milwaukee office, he drove an hour west to the sleepy little town. He parked in front of The Hollow Leg Pizzeria then entered the adjoining bar. He had all weekend to observe through a professional lens. Tonight, he intended to order a beer from the owner’s daughter, Haley Miller, and give her the chance to assess how he’d shed his nerdy features and turned his studiousness into success. As gorgeous and exuberant as ever, Haley stood behind the bar, laughing at someone’s joke, while she arranged orange slices on the sides of four long-stemmed, bowl-shaped glasses. Martini glasses? No. Margarita, maybe. He could ask her. Better yet, he’d google the answer and approach her with a witty comment. While she smiled and laughed, he’d ask her out and discover if reality measured up to the sixteen years of fantasies he’d built around her. Damn. He couldn’t ask her out, not until he ensured her father’s business problems didn’t interfere with his aunt and uncle’s livelihood. Taking advantage of the single pillar in the center of the room, he slipped into the chair backed against it, facing away from the bar. “What can I bring you, sweetheart?” A bottle-blonde waitress with lines creasing her heavily made up face stood in front of him.
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“Beer on tap.” “You got it. My name’s Martha. If you need anything else, give me a holler.” She bustled away. Leaning his head against the pillar, he closed his eyes. He could have pretended practical and ethical reasons had kept him from flirting with Haley, but in truth, he’d once again chickened out. He could go head-to-head with the biggest hardball lawyers in Milwaukee without flinching, but he’d never been able to work up the nerve to approach the vivacious, fun-loving girl behind the bar. “Wa-hoo! The amazing Haaaley is back. Let the weekend begin,” a man drawled in a booming voice. He paraded through the entrance and straight to the counter. “Hey, Rick.” The genuine pleasure in her voice punched Seth in the gut. She’d never used that tone to say his name before. Heck, she hadn’t even noticed his arrival. To be fair, he hadn’t announced his grand entrance either. With a toast to the entire bar, he could have used humor and compliments to make Haley’s eyes sparkle and give her a reason to reach out to him. Unfortunately, the speeches he excelled at were full of legal language and accusation. Demanding to know why her dad had neglected his responsibilities and was ruining his aunt and uncle’s business would make her eyes glitter with mistrust, instead of admiration. So, she’d either hate him if he spoke up or continue to have no idea he existed if he stayed silent. He sighed. Martha returned, setting his beer on a coaster in front of him. “Anything else I can get for you?” He paid her then closed his wallet. “I’m good. Does Haley work the bar often?” “Every weekend.” According to rumors and hearsay, through the years she’d worked in various cities throughout the country and even done a stint overseas before settling into a corporate job in Chicago. Hustling an hour and a half to work at a bar in Regret Hollow every weekend when the city had plenty of bars to fulfill the need for a second job didn’t make sense to him. “Does her dad still come in at all?” “Of course.” “People say they haven’t seen him around much.”
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Martha pursed her lips. “He’s been running this bar for a long time. If he wants to take time off to relax, I reckon he’s earned the right.” Aunt Cheryl and Uncle Mike had gotten the same answer months ago. But no matter how hard he’d worked in the past, Dave Miller had not earned the right to ruin other people’s livelihoods. “Seems odd a guy who’s comfortable enough to kick back and relax would bring in his daughter to cover his shifts.” “Her choice.” The waitress’s smile tightened at the corners. “Can I bring you something else to drink?” “I’m going to nurse this for a while, and I’ll stop bothering you.” He handed her another greenback then took a sip of his beer as she tucked the money in her apron and turned away. “Emma asked me if I could fix her sink this weekend,” Rick’s voice, no longer booming but subdued and confidential, whispered in his ear, cutting through the indistinguishable din from the other patrons. Seth bumped his beer glass, sloshing liquid on the table, and whipped around. Rick sat at the bar, facing Haley, nowhere near whispering distance. Seth rubbed his ear. “Are you going to do it?” Haley replied, her voice in Seth’s ear but her head bent toward Rick. Somehow Seth sat in the perfect acoustical spot to eavesdrop on their private conversation. He cringed. “Of course.” The implication Rick was hung up on some other woman cheered him. “You’re inviting her to the March drinking madness and maybe a little basketball party at your house tomorrow night, right?” Haley asked him. “I kind of mentioned it,” he hedged. “But it’s better that she doesn’t come.” Interesting. As perfect as Seth had assumed Haley and Rick were for each other, they appeared to be nothing more than friends and perhaps confidants. “Seems to me there’s a lot less chance of something happening at a party with twenty other people than with the two of you alone in her house,” Haley murmured. “Nothing will happen anywhere,” Rick said resolutely. “Now, I’ve spilled my guts to you, so tell me your biggest fantasy that’ll never become a reality.” She laughed, but the sound lacked the carefree ring Seth expected from her. “I’ve been
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too busy juggling two jobs to have time to fantasize about anything.” She worked her ass off so her dad could enjoy his relaxation time? Yeah, that didn’t add up. More likely, she felt obligated to cover for a gambling problem or her father had overextended himself by trying to open a new bar in another town. Too many times Seth had been left to sort through the pieces after people lost everything in their bid to build a business empire. “Oh, come on. Everyone has time for at least one secret fantasy,” Rick teased. “You’ll have to give up your reputation as Regret Hollow’s bad girl if you don’t have one.” “People’s long memories are the only thing keeping my reputation alive, but I’ll share my fantasy just so you know I’m not dead. I want someone to give me an orgasm while I’m fixing drinks behind the bar.” Seth whipped around, his knee bumping the table so hard he sloshed beer onto the floor. Ignoring the spill, he stared at Haley’s beautiful heart-shaped face, too-big brown eyes, and tumbling blond curls. Rick choked and swore. She dumped ice in a blender and continued talking to Rick. “I don’t want you to give it to me, so wipe that image out of your filthy mind. But I love bartending and orgasms. Can you imagine how much better they could be together?” The whirring of the blender blocked the rest of the conversation. Seth turned away and leaned his head on the support beam before she caught him staring. Was she sharing a real fantasy or just messing around? He needed a stronger drink. He signaled the waitress. “Whiskey, straight up.” Martha nodded and headed for the bar. The blender stopped. “Hey, give that back,” Haley demanded. “Have you ever heard of the site Midwest Sexual Fantasies Fulfilled Guaranteed? You should post there and see if you get any takers,” Rick said. Seth couldn’t resist glancing around the pillar again. “Do you hang out there? No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” Haley leaned across the bar, grasping for a rhinestone-cased phone that Rick held out of reach while Martha called out Seth’s whiskey order. “I’ll make you an account, and you can check out the responses. No obligation to go
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through with it. No money changes hands.” She rolled her eyes but stopped trying to retrieve her phone. “You’re wasting your time. I don’t need a creep on the Internet to get good sex, thank you very much.” Her words slammed through Seth. How much creepier could he get, hiding behind a pillar and eavesdropping on a private conversation? Haley didn’t need a nerdy guy who’d been too shy to speak to her for the single year they’d been in school together any more than she needed an Internet creep to satisfy her. Not waiting for his drink to arrive, he tossed a twenty on the table and strode from the bar. A lifetime of being the good guy and making safe choices hadn’t gotten her to notice his existence. He needed to reinvent himself or give up his fantasy. Either way, he couldn’t let anything interfere with his obligations to his family.
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About the Author Sara Daniel writes what she loves to read—irresistible romance, from sweet to steamy and everything in between. She grew up in a small town and was once a landlord of two uninvited squirrels. She has no regrets about turning her back on her accounting degree to write romance, but she deeply regrets her inability to keep track of her car keys. Subscribe to Sara’s newsletter: http://eepurl.com/rx_AL Visit her website: http://www.SaraDaniel.com