Wyatt's Stand (Colebrook Siblings Trilogy Book 2) (16 page)

BOOK: Wyatt's Stand (Colebrook Siblings Trilogy Book 2)
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Grits was there at the door to greet her, and Wyatt a second later. He swung open the screen door with one muscular arm and gave her a smile that almost melted her panties. “Hi. You look amazing,” he said, taking the bags from her with one hand.

“Thanks.” She’d bought this dress at a boutique last summer and never had an occasion to wear it. The bright coral dress was sleeveless and came to mid-thigh, showing off her arms and legs, and the heels she’d put on accentuated the muscles she worked hard to keep in shape. She wasn’t a girly girl, but she’d wanted to look her best for him. “You shaved.” He looked so different without his dark beard. The swirls and pockmarks on the right side of his face made her want to kiss each one of them. She realized how huge it was, that he was letting her see the full extent of the scars. It touched her deeply.

He rubbed a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. “Yeah. Thought I’d better clean up for you.”

“Well, for the record I think your beard is sexy too, but damn, you sure clean up nice.”

He smiled and flushed a bit, which she found freaking adorable. “Come on in.”

“Thanks.” She stepped inside and waited while he placed the groceries on the counter.

“This is a lot of food for just us,” he said, glancing in the bags.

“Well, mama’s mac ‘n cheese recipe makes a whole big casserole dish full so you’ll have leftovers tomorrow.”

“How many kinds of cheese did you buy?” he asked, sounding astonished as he began unloading everything onto the counter.

“Four. And heavy cream, then butter and breadcrumbs for the top. Not to mention the fixings for dessert later.”

At the word dessert he stopped what he was doing and met her gaze, a hungry expression on his face that made her want to skip dinner altogether. She’d worn her hair down tonight, taking extra care to tame her curls into individual spirals that bounced against the tops of her shoulders, and she’d added just enough makeup to accentuate her eyes. Judging by the heated look in Wyatt’s eyes as he raked his gaze over her, it had totally been worth the extra effort.

“We could start with dessert,” he said in that low, sexy voice that did things to her.

“We could,” she allowed, “but I’d hate for you to miss out on the mac ‘n cheese.” Besides, she was enjoying this slow build way too much to rush now. She wanted to savor this, the entire experience of tonight.

He opened the fridge. “Want some wine? There’s still some left from the other night.”

“Love some. Can I just make myself at home in here and go for it?”

“Be my guest,” he said with a smile, reaching up into a cabinet for a wineglass.

She found a couple of pots, utensils and a cutting board, then got busy grating all the cheeses while the water for the macaroni heated.

Wyatt placed the wine within reach. “Need a hand?”

“No, you just relax,” she said while the butter melted in the saucepan. She added the flour and whisked it together to make the roux, then stirred it until it cooked through before adding the milk and heavy cream.

She was adding the first grated cheese when Wyatt stepped up behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat of him through her dress, and settled his big hands on her hips. He nuzzled the back of her neck, and her knees went weak.

“Looks amazing already,” he murmured, his lips brushing over her nape. He trailed kisses to the left side of it, to the sensitive spot that made her gasp and lift up on tiptoe.

It took her a moment to realize she was still holding a handful of shredded Gruyere. “You’re distracting me.”

“Am I?” His teeth raked ever-so-lightly against her skin, then the warm flick of his tongue caressed her.

Her fingers bunched around the cheese as her eyes closed. “At this rate I’m gonna burn your kitchen down.”

He chuckled, the warm gust of his breath on her skin sending an arrow of desire through her. “Can’t have that, you being a firefighter and all.” Placing one more seductive kiss on that spot that made her see stars, he straightened and slipped his arms around her waist, pressing the front of him flush along her back and hips.

“So not helping,” she said, her voice all breathy and weak. She’d sensed this in him, the latent sensuality he was showing her now, but she hadn’t anticipated how much it would affect her.

“Sorry.” His tone made it clear that he wasn’t, and he didn’t budge, apparently content to tease her with the feel of his strength and the hardness of his erection pressed against her ass. “Maybe I’m taking pointers. I’ve never made mac ‘n cheese before, except from a box.”

“That’s disgusting and wrong,” she said, and finally got control back over her body long enough to add the last of the cheese into the simmering sauce. “Once you try this, you’ll never go back.”

“Hmm, can’t wait to taste it,” he murmured, and the sexual tone made her clench her upper thighs together, which only increased the throb between them.

I can’t wait either
. God, she couldn’t ever remember getting this hot and bothered from some flirting. She couldn’t even call those little kisses he’d just given her foreplay, because they’d been over too quick. Anxiety danced in her belly when she thought of where things were heading between them tonight. She hadn’t been with anyone since John died and the thought of sleeping with Wyatt was both thrilling and a little terrifying. She didn’t do flings, hadn’t been interested in anyone else until now, and she was nervous.

Finally, he released her and went to feed Grits, enabling her to think again. Once she’d drained and rinsed the partially cooked pasta, she added it to the sauce, stirred it all together and sprinkled buttered breadcrumbs over the top. After tidying up a bit she threw together a quick salad, sliced some fresh, local strawberries and tossed them with sugar while the dish baked in the oven.

Checking the mac ‘n cheese, her stomach growled in anticipation when she saw that it was bubbling and the breadcrumbs were a golden brown. “It’s ready.”

Wyatt had the plates and utensils out by the time she’d pulled it from the oven. “Oh, man, that smells awesome,” he groaned.

“Oh, it’s better than awesome,” she said with pride. “My mom took this to every church potluck we ever went to and people always go crazy for it. She gets requests for it all the time.” She glanced over at him. “Where do you want to eat?”

“How about out on the back porch?”

“That sounds perfect.” She carried the salad out while he took the hot casserole dish and their plates. Grits trotted outside with them. “Oh, it’s a screen porch!” she said, glancing around the cozy space.

A porch swing covered in a long cushion and throw pillows rocked in the breeze at one end, a table and chairs with ottomans sitting opposite it. “My grandmother had one of these at her old place down in Mississippi. I used to sleep out there on a day bed she always made up for me with a pretty quilt on top. It was too hot to sleep with the quilt on, but every morning I put it back on the bed and smoothed it out.”

“I love it out here,” he answered, setting the mac ‘n cheese on a hunting magazine to protect the wooden table. “I’ve been known to sleep on this swing. I built it extra long and deep to fit me.”

The words long and deep made her think of the exact opposite of sleeping. “You built it?”

He flashed her an amused smile. “You’re not the only one handy with a saw and hammer.”

She sank onto one end of the swing and waited while Wyatt filled a plate for her, motioning with one hand to ask for more mac ‘n cheese when he put one measly scoop next to the heap of greens. He sat next to her and she watched as he took his first bite.

He stopped chewing, looked over at her and groaned deep in his chest.

“Good, right?” she asked, that deep rumble of pleasure doing nothing to cool the arousal building inside her.

“Oh, man,” he moaned, and immediately scooped up another bite.

“It’s the smoked cheddar, I think. The combination of cheese is to die for. Now aren’t you glad I made enough for leftovers tomorrow?”

He made a sound of agreement and kept eating. It felt intimate, sitting out here alone with him in this most private spot. Wyatt didn’t let many people in, and she was honored that he trusted her enough. “So I’ve been dying to ask you.”

“Ask me what?”

“About that ‘family situation’ you mentioned at the restaurant the other night.”

“Oh.” He lowered his plate. “My brother, Brody. He’s two years younger than me.” Wyatt shook his head, his expression rueful. “It’s a hell of a story.”

She turned more toward him, curiosity piqued. “Well now I need to hear it.”

“I can’t tell you everything, but I can give you the basics.” He explained about how Brody had met a woman named Trinity, and the danger that had followed, ending up with them in a gunfight in the middle of a cornfield the night Austen had closed the deal on the house.

By the time he finished the story, her eyes were wide. “Holy…cow,” she breathed.

“Yeah,” he said. “It was intense.”

No kidding. “And are they still together?”

He nodded. “She’s gone back to London now, but he’s crazy about her and wants to make a long distance relationship with her work, even though I know he wants her to move back here with him.” He shook his head once, almost in wonder. “I’ve never seen Brody react like that to a woman before.”

Austen smiled at the bewilderment in his tone. “Love makes people do crazy things.”

“I guess it does.”

She frowned. “What, you’ve never been in love before?”

“No,” he said, lowering his gaze to his plate as he resumed eating, making it clear the change in topic made him uncomfortable.

Really? She found that interesting because she knew he cared about her. From what Piper had said, him inviting her to dinner with his family was a big deal. He’d certainly worked his way into her heart over the past week. She hoped things kept progressing between them, but wasn’t going to push, and let it go for now.

After he had seconds, he insisted on cleaning up while she finished making dessert, making the Chantilly whipped cream and spooning it over top of the macerated berries set on top of sponge cakes. He refilled her wine glass and they headed back to the porch swing.

Austen set her empty plate onto the table in front of them and closed her eyes, breathing in the serenity of the moment. The fresh scent of cut grass and the sound of crickets singing drifted on the breeze. “It’s so peaceful back here.”

“Mmhmm,” he agreed around a mouthful of shortcake.

She opened her eyes to take in more of the view. “You said this place has been in your family for generations?”

“Yeah, but this is only what’s left of the original homestead. Used to be a lot bigger. My ancestors fought the Yankees in these very fields.” He indicated the pasture in front of them with a nod.

She made a disparaging sound. “Damn Yankees.”

He grinned. “Yeah. But I like some Yankees just fine.” His eyes were warm as he nudged her shoulder.

Her lips twitched. “That’s good to hear.”

She closed her eyes once more, then opened them and looked down when a shockingly loud snore sounded from the floor. Grits was stretched out on his side at their feet, paws twitching, tail thumping on the floor even in his sleep. “Wow, he’s loud.”

Wyatt grunted. “You have no idea,” he muttered, and swallowed his mouthful. “You should hear him at night. It’s like having a friggin’ chainsaw at the foot of my bed.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “You let him sleep on your bed, huh?”

He hid a smile. “Only for a little while. He gets too hot and jumps down onto the floor. He’s like Velcro, I swear. I can’t even go to the bathroom alone.”

It was clear Wyatt loved the little guy. She adored that such a big, gruff man had so much softness inside him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “You going to keep him?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I can’t give him up now. Piper was betting on that, no doubt.”

She already loved Piper. “No doubt. I had a long chat with her yesterday.”

He met her eyes. “Oh?”

She nodded. “About you. Said you needed a keeper.”

He snorted. “Sounds like something she’d say.”

Austen grinned. “I dunno, from what I’ve seen, I think you take pretty good care of yourself. But it’s nice to have someone to come over and make you homemade mac ‘n cheese then sit out on the back porch with you, right?”

“Yeah. Real nice.” He reached one hand up to trail his fingertips down the side of her cheek, then lifted his arm in invitation.

She scooted closer, settling into his side as he curled his strong arm around her shoulders. With a long sigh she rested her head on his sturdy shoulder. It was so nice to relax out here with him, no talking, just enjoying each other’s presence.

Her stomach was full, the wine had relaxed her and Wyatt was warm and solid next to her. A languid arousal stole through her, like sun-warmed honey sliding through her veins.

She hadn’t known him long. Incredible as it seemed, she was already falling for him, and tonight was going to change things between them forever. She was more than ready to take that next step with him.

So when he cupped her jaw and turned her face toward his, it was the most natural thing in the world to lean into him and press her lips to his.

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

 

Wyatt held back a groan of raw need when Austen’s lips parted beneath his, inviting him to taste her.

He’d been biding his time throughout dinner and dessert, letting the arousal between them simmer, giving her a chance to change her mind if she had second thoughts about this. Given the way she all but melted against him, her tongue gliding sensually along his, she was totally on board with it.

Sinking his left hand into her hair, he slid his right hand between her shoulder blades to bring her closer. She tasted sweet, like the strawberries they’d just eaten, and she felt so damn good, firm yet soft in all the right places. He wanted all of her, to imprint himself on her so she’d feel him all day tomorrow.

Austen murmured in pleasure and linked her hands around the back of his neck, coming up on her knees to press her breasts to his chest. She ran her hands over his shoulders, down his chest and around to stroke his back. He was already rock hard in his jeans, the throb getting worse with each slick stroke of her tongue against his.

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