WYATT
One hand wraps around my waist from behind, the other does the same except it’s holding a beer. Taking the bottle from Exeter’s hand, I lift my free one to hers on my waist and give it a squeeze.
My eyes scan the backyard for a moment. The food has been eaten, Rylan is starting a fire with the help of Ford, and Louis is sitting down laughing at them. Channing is sitting as well, her hand resting on her rounded stomach.
“You okay, sugar?” I ask before taking a sip of the cool liquid.
She hums, and I take that moment to turn around in her arms. She tips her head back, her gaze finding mine and I grin down at her. “You didn’t tell me,” she murmurs.
“Didn’t tell you what?” I ask.
“That you were such a nice guy.” Lifting a brow, I wait for her to explain, to expand. “You left this place furnished for them, including the televisions, didn’t you?”
Lifting my eyes from hers, I look over her head to Rylan and then to Channing. They are smiling at one another, their obvious happiness and love almost too much for one person to witness. I think about just a few weeks ago when they didn’t know where they were going to live, when nobody in town would rent to them because of Rylan’s prison sentence.
Lowering my gaze back down to hers, I smile, a sense of peace and pride filling me. “I did. They needed it more than me.”
“God, you make it easy to fall deep, you know that?”
I dip my chin, my lips hovering above her own. “You fallin’, sugar?”
She sighs and I swallow as I wait for her to confirm what I already know. “You know I have, Wyatt. Completely,” she rasps.
Only then do I slant my head and I take her in a long, deep, hard kiss. When I break the kiss, it’s to the sound of cat-calls surrounding us. Exeter’s face turns bright red, but I only lift my hand and flip off my friends.
Turning toward them, I wrap my hand in hers and tug her toward the fire. Without giving her an option, I find a seat and plant my ass, pulling her ass down on my thigh. Wrapping my arms around her, I shift her closer toward me, needing to feel her body against my own.
I need to tell her the truth.
I need to tell her everything, including the fact that I love her.
Fuck. I do too. I love her. Every goddamn part of her. I need her in my life, in my bed, at my side—for eternity. I’m fucking gone, lost to her, lost in her.
The rest of the evening we spend talking with our friends. I keep a close eye on Louis. He seems better than he did last night. He seems almost at peace, maybe even happy. I think about last night, about his confession.
He’s lonely.
He wants more, but he doesn’t think he can find it, doesn’t think he can find someone like Channing, like Exeter. He and Ford are more alike than not, both ready for more in life, both unsure if they’ll ever find it, and both trying not to get their hopes up.
My phone rings in my pocket, and I am forced to stand. Excusing myself, I frown at the sight of the caller ID. Lowering my head, I brush my lips across the top of Exeter’s head. “I’ll be back in a few, gotta take this,” I murmur.
Holding the phone up to my ear, I answer it as I quickly walk away. “Wyatt,” my father’s voice growls.
“Tell me,” I command.
“Went and checked on Mrs. Harvey tonight,” he begins. “She’s shaken up, but she’s okay.”
“What happened?” I demand.
He clears his throat, then tells me that Exeter’s dad came around, threatened her, and threatened to come back and do more if she didn’t tell him where she was. Then smashed up some shit in her house looking for her cash.
“I got Robby here taking a report, and Mrs. Harvey is comin’ up to the house for a few nights.”
“Fuck,” I hiss.
“Figured that’d be your reaction.”
I snort. My father knows me so well, because I’m cut from the same cloth as him, like father, like son. “We’ll be by the house once she’s settled in. Exeter would kill me if I kept this from her.”
“We’re fixin’ to head out in about thirty minutes probably. She’s just finishing up the report, then needs to pack her things. Your mama is helpin’ her.”
I thank my dad, then close my eyes. “Fuck,” I growl.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Louis asks from behind me.
Turning to him, I let out a sigh. “Remember all that shit I told you about? The problems we’ve been havin’ with Exeter’s dad?”
He nods, his eyes narrowing and darkening slightly, knowing without a doubt that he’s not going to like what I’m going to say next. “He went around and harassed Exeter’s MawMaw tonight. Scared her and tore up her house. My dad’s down there with the sheriff, and he’s takin’ her over to his house tonight.”
“She can’t stay there alone anymore,” he announces.
“I know,” I agree.
“She can come out to my guest house, no old lady deserves to be harassed.”
Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around his shoulder and give him a slight shake. “Thanks, brother, we might take you up on that. Gotta talk to Exeter about this, fuck, I do not want to tell her any of this shit.”
My eyes find Exeter. She’s turning slightly so that I can only see the profile of her face. She’s smiling toward Channing. They’re chatting and they both laugh. She’s so fucking beautiful. How on earth the man who created her could hurt her the way he has, I won’t ever know.
However, I do know that he won’t again—never again. Because I’m going to be the one who fucking ends him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
EXETER
Wyatt has been quiet. Alarmingly quiet for the past couple of days. We make love every morning, like normal, he goes to work then comes home and we do it all over again.
I spend my days either at work or with my MawMaw. She’s still shaken up by what my father did to her. Honestly, I don’t know if she’ll ever be able to return back to her home at this point. Chalk that up to something else my father has taken, something that was not rightfully his.
Wyatt holds me, looking down at me as if he’s afraid that I’ll disappear, but he doesn’t speak. I keep waiting for more, for him to say something, but he never does.
Instead, he presses his lips together and begins to kiss me, then he eats me, makes me come, then fucks me and makes me come again. An endless cycle of orgasms. I shouldn’t complain, but we’re both avoiding a conversation that we really need to have with one another.
“Signing papers after work today. I’ll be a little late, want to go out to dinner?” he asks, rolling away from me.
I watch his ass as he makes his way toward the bathroom. He stops right at the entrance, turning to face me when I don’t answer him right away. I look down at my lap, then back up to him.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” I ask.
He grunts, turning his head to the side, then back toward me. “We’ll talk later.”
“Will we?” I ask. His eyes flash, there’s something unreadable there and I don’t mistake the warning, but I continue on anyway. “It’s been days and you haven’t said much to me. I can tell there’s something working in your head, but you’re not saying anything, so forgive me if I think that, that will change.”