Waiting for Wyatt (Red Dirt #1) (30 page)

“Yep. And you might as well fold and we’ll start a new game. You’re not getting out of that corner.”

“Okay.” I gathered up the plastic pieces, stuffing them back down in the box. “What else you got?”

“Since you keep talking about folding, you ever play poker?”

“It’s been a while.” I shrugged, giving him a smile. “I played some when I traveled for track meets. I’m about as good at poker as I am at checkers.”

“Well, it looks like I’ll be winning my bet against you.”

I cocked an eyebrow up at Mr. Hughes. “What bet?”

“When I beat you, no more salads. I really hate green things.”

“I accept your challenge since we are playing for salad. Where are the cards?”

He coughed faintly. “Hall closet.”

I took the checkers box with me as I hobbled to the door in the entryway. I dug around the shelves filled with pieces from his life. All of those items would soon be packed up and in a truck going to Nebraska.

“I guess you got one more week before you can go see that boy.” I heard his voice come from behind me and the waves of feelings overwhelmed my thoughts. For a brief moment, I’d stopped thinking about Wyatt. I missed him and craved him. I worried about him.

I couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Wyatt. What it must feel like, going days and days without seeing another person. Not talking. Keeping all your words bottled up inside. It was enough to make a normal person go crazy. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like for a person carrying enough baggage to sink a ship to the bottom of the ocean.

My hand clasped around a beat-up deck of cards. Closing the closet door, I made my way back to the couch and the TV tray we kept between us for the games. “He’s not a boy, Mr. Hughes. He’s twenty-two.”

“If you say so. So what’s his name again?”

“Wyatt.”

“Wyatt what? This boy not have a last name?”

“Caulf—um. I mean, Carter.” It was still a little hard for me to keep that one straight.

“Wyatt Carter. Well, that explains a lot. You never told me he was that Carter boy.”

My eyes snapped up to his old, wrinkled blue ones. The confused thoughts tumbled around. “You know Wyatt?”

“Can’t burn down half a town without a few people noticing.”

I cringed, hearing the reference come from Mr. Hughes. I knew when people found out about my involvement with Wyatt, they would start judging me. I knew it was bound to happen. We lived in Stillwater, but Gibbs wasn’t that far away. And small-town news had a tendency to travel, especially when it got picked up by the big-city affiliates:
Drunk Driver Burns Down Main Street, Paralyzes Mayor’s Son.

And like Wyatt had said—taking out a federal post office really did make people crazy. It was the biggest leverage Fred Tucker had used against Wyatt. I’d read it all in the papers. And I guess Mr. Hughes had read it too.

“Don’t get all worried, Emma. That’s not how I know your boy. He’s Orville Carter’s grandson. Wyatt’s grandpa owns a motorcycle repair garage in town. Or, well, he used to own one. I think he’s retired now.”

“Oh, I um—I remember Wyatt saying something about that. He’s got a bike out there at the kennel. Keeps it under a tarp.”

“You don’t say.” A whimsical grin took over his face.

“How would you know about his shop?”

“How do you think? I couldn’t have just anyone work on Priscilla.” He gave me an ornery smirk. “I used to ride her every weekend.”

“Priscilla . . . is a
motorcycle
?” My thoughts tumbled around, remembering all of his references to that name and their trips across the country. “I thought she was your wife?”

“My wife?” He let out a wild laugh. “My wife was named Margie. And she didn’t care much for Priscilla. Said I was going to end up with half a brain left in my head.”

“But when you talked about . . . I’m confused. Never mind. So where’s Priscilla now?”

That whimsical grin returned. “Well, I reckon she’s sitting out there at the kennel with your boy. Orville had spent so much time putting her back together through the years. He was just as fond of her as me. When I couldn’t ride her anymore, he wanted Priscilla as a birthday present for his grandson. And I thought, that’s where she belongs, with some young’un who could give her the road time she deserves.”

I was stunned. As the reality of his words settled into my heart, I leaned back against the couch holding the deck of cards to my chest.

“Maybe one day he can take her back out,” I mumbled.

“Make sure he takes you with him. Oh, the memories. Nothing but wind and speed on the road. You’ll love her.”

“Yeah, I’m sure I will.”

B
Y THE TIME I GOT
out of my car, he was already coming down the steps of the trailer. I’d missed Wyatt, every broody, rotten, sweet piece of him. If I could run, I would’ve run in a dead sprint. But I didn’t have to. Wyatt walked quickly to me, wearing a grin as big as any I’d ever seen from him. His arms came around me. My body lifted up from the ground as he crushed me to his chest, leaving my feet dangling against his knees. I felt every inch of him pressing into my skin under the sticky summer sun.

“I missed you,” he whispered next to my ear.

I wanted to wrap my legs around his waist, but the new brace still restricted my knee from bending in that direction. And my physical therapist might just kill me.

Wyatt backed me up against the hood of the car. The hot metal burned a little as I sat on the edge. As our lips found each other, I no longer cared about the slight scorches on my dangling legs. My mouth opened, letting his tongue slip inside and drag slowly out to my lips. His fingers gripped my butt cheeks, pulling me closer until my thighs split and I straddled his hips.

“How’s your knee?” he asked as he moved his lips down my neck. “Does it hurt like this?”

“No,” I managed to say. Every time he kissed me, I swear all rationale left my brain. I wanted him and he needed me. Wyatt transferred all his pain and loneliness into a mind-blowing physical explosion—and I didn’t really think that was such a terrible thing.

His hand moved up my waist and slipped in between us and over my breasts. He cupped me through the T-shirt, rubbing lightly with his thumb, over and over again as his mouth sucked on my bottom lip. Wyatt tugged the low V-neckline of my pink shirt until my left breast was free and he pressed his lips against the lacy fabric. Only a few delicate flowers composed of tiny threads separated his tongue from my skin.

Wyatt pushed his hips tighter against me. My fingers dug into his shoulders, and I held onto his body as he made my insides experience things I didn’t know were possible.

Five minutes ago, I was missing Wyatt and now he was holding me, kissing me, touching me, setting my body on fire—and then he stilled. Wyatt lifted his head up, letting his forehead rest against mine. He let out a deep breath. “I told myself I wasn’t going to do this when you got here.”

His voice had a painful catch to it. I stared into his eyes, trying to let him know it was okay. He could kiss me, hold me, take my clothes off—preferably not on the hood of my car, but inside his trailer would be just fine.

“It’s okay, you know.” I ran a finger over his cheek, feeling the smooth skin covered with faint stubble. “To want me that way.”

“I know. Just not yet. Not like this.” His warm breath drifted slowly over my skin. “We are just getting started. I want us to be different than all that shit I did in the past. Because you are different. I’ve never had this part with someone. And I want this part with you. The beginning stuff. The stuff that is supposed to happen before sex.”

Wyatt pulled my shirt back up before releasing me. He backed away, and I sat on the hood alone. Hearing his words made me fall for Wyatt just a little bit more. I understood completely as his eyes held onto mine, showing his tormented thoughts full of pain and desire.

“I want that too,” I reassured him.

He smiled, letting his dimples take over his cheeks. And then he leaned forward, touching me with nothing but his lips. Wyatt kissed me softly, and I melted all over again. His sweet, simple kiss burned me just as hot as the one before, because I knew that simple kiss came filled with his actual emotions—deep ones that I’d tried to pull out of him all summer.

He released my lips slowly and backed away. “That’s the way it was supposed to go instead of mauling you in the driveway.”

Even though he put a stop to our makeout session, his earlier thoughts were still very obvious as his eyes traveled over my whole body. Wyatt had decided not to touch me—just torture me with those looks. He lifted my foot up, looking at my knee. “So that’s the new brace? It doesn’t look that much better. When do they set you free for good?”

“I don’t know. Depends on the physical therapist. He’s holding me hostage.” Yesterday, the therapist had removed the giant black contraption and replaced it with something about half its size.

“But you are doing what he says?”

“Yes,” I answered, but Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t believe me.”

“You seem to do whatever you want despite what other people tell you to do. So I’m not sure.”

I got off the hood of the car and walked slowly over to him. “I promise. I’m doing everything by the book. If I wasn’t, then I would’ve driven out here, like, five days ago.” I gazed up into his eyes and whispered, “I missed you too. And I was worried.”

His eyes filled with a mix of sadness and longing. I figured in my absence, demons had filled his lonely days. Wyatt cleared his throat. “So school started back?”

“Yeah. A couple of days ago. Blaire had to help me get to my chemistry class, but I should be able to go on my own with the new brace. I go back to the bookstore tomorrow. They are going to let me sit on a stool and just work the register.”

He nodded. Our conversation seemed to lull, making me want to kiss him again. I glanced at his lips, so soft and puckered. They traveled up to his eyes, which held mine. His haunting gaze was truly the window to his soul.

“Oh, I brought you something.” I grinned.

“You shouldn’t bring me stuff.”

“Why?”

I waited for his reply, but he didn’t answer. Wyatt got a little fidgety, twisting his eyebrows up. Something was eating away at him. Wyatt seemed at a loss for words, struggling with the casual conversion. Kissing was easy. Talking—well, that was a whole other beast.

I went over to the car and pulled out my surprises. Tucking the book under my armpit, I held a small paper bag against my chest with my wrist and a Styrofoam cup in each hand. “I brought dinner.”

Wyatt seemed conflicted as I carried everything over to him. I grinned, trying to loosen up the sudden seriousness that coated the air around us. I gestured to the Sonic Drive-In cup. “It’s Cherry Coke. I thought everyone likes cherry.”

“Yeah, I like cherry,” he muttered, playing along with my joke about the last time I’d tried this with him. Wyatt took both drinks from me. “What’s in the sack?”

“I thought you should eat something besides hot dogs. That’s disgusting, by the way. So I brought hamburgers. Not that it’s super nutritious. But it’s better than hot dogs. Oh, and some tator tots. You like those, right?”

He let out a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I like tator tots.”

“So do you actually like the food I saw in the refrigerator or is that the only thing they will buy you?” I asked as I followed him up the steps and inside the trailer.

“It’s just easier.” He sat the cups down on the coffee table and took the bag from my hands. “Diana brings my supplies. I just wanted to make it as simple as possible.”

“I see.” We both sat down on the couch, leaving about a foot between us. I pulled out the book. “Here’s your surprise.”

I passed the paperback over to him. He took it cautiously from my hand like it was rat poison. “It’s just a book, Wyatt. I thought you might like a new one.”

“Emma, I can’t get you anything. So I don’t want you bringing me stuff. Not even books.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” He let out a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. I felt sorry for him, watching the struggle go on right in front of me. I reached over and slipped my fingers between his. After a moment, Wyatt looked at me again. “What’s the book about?”