String Beans (The Girls of Beachmont #2) (28 page)

“That was an interesting night,” I said when Wyatt
parked in front of our apartment building. “I’m glad they’re both okay.”

“Maybe we need a redo,” he said.

“A redo? No way,” I told him. “This is one for the
books. Unforgettable first date.”

“You think this was our first date?”

I raised a brow and scoffed. “Yeah it was.”

“What about that night at Fusion?”

“That wasn’t a date,” I said. “I didn’t even know
you yet.”

“That’s the whole point of dates: you go out and
get to know each other. And I learned a bit about you that night.”

I crossed my arms and turned in the passenger seat
to face him. “Like what?”

“For one, that you’re pretty damn brave.”

“How so?” I asked.

“I don’t know many people that pick up everything
they know and start over, especially in someplace as busy as L.A.”

“What choice did I have?”

“See, that’s my point.”

“Okay, what else did you learn that night?”

“Aside from the fact that you’re a little too
sarcastic for your own good…you genuinely care about other people. It’s like a
part of you doesn’t want to, but you just can’t help it. It’s who you are.”

“I think that’s something my roommates taught me.
They were the sisters I never had.”

We sat in silence for a moment until we finally
got out of his Jeep. I waited for him on the sidewalk, and when I started to
walk to the entrance, he tugged at my hand and pulled me back toward him. Wyatt
reached out and touched the short strand of hair that fell into my face but
didn’t look me in the eye.

“I’m sorry about my mom,” he said as his gaze finally
met mine. His hand trailed from my neck and down to the small of my back,
holding me against him.

He leaned down to kiss me but I put my fingers
against his mouth to stop him and shook my head.

“Don’t be sorry. I understand where she’s coming
from. And I can’t promise that my parents wouldn’t say the same thing to you.
She loves you.”

His free hand reached between us and he pulled my
fingers away. “Can I kiss you now?”

I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck as he
held me firmly against him.

When we parted, we were both breathing heavily and
I had to resist the urge to kiss him again. The entire day, and everything from
the night before, had been more eventful than anything I’d experienced in a
while. All of it began to catch up with me and I released the yawn I was
fighting.

“It’s been a long day,” he said. We walked inside
the building and avoided the rickety elevator by using the steps…like I always
did. He insisted the elevator was fine, but I wasn’t about to risk life and
limb for a hunk of metal.

We reached our landing and walked down the
corridor. Despite all the excitement and drama, I was sad to see it end. Our
fingers were threaded together and our pace slowed until he stopped walking.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He kissed me once, and then leaned his forehead to
mine.

“Stay with me?”

“Okay,” I whispered.

***

When we walked into the apartment, there was a
note from Dallas that he was out with James.

“No Dallas?” I asked.

“Guess not.”

“Guessed wrong,” Dallas said when he walked out
from his bedroom. He seemed distracted and I walked over to check on him. He
was wearing workout shorts and a T-shirt—nothing like I expected to see
him wearing for a night out with James.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Have you seen my keys?” He walked around moving
papers on the counter and the dining room table until he found them.

“Where are you going?”

“James and your friend Kirk are at Callie’s. I
came back here to call my brother back… That was fun.”

“Is everything okay?”

“The usual. I’m irresponsible, my mom’s worried
about me, and he questions my decisions. I guess he’s forgotten that I’m the
one with a steady job and I talk to Mom every day. Got that one out of the
way…for now.”

“What’s everyone doing at Callie’s?”

“Drinking and listening to Kirk play some songs.
You two want to come hang?”

Wyatt looked at me and tried not to laugh when he
shook his head. It didn’t matter; Dallas was too busy staring at his phone to
notice.

“I’m about to leave,” I said. “It’s been a long
day.”

He walked over and gave me a hug before leaving me
alone in his apartment with Wyatt, who took my hand in his.

“You’re not going home.”

“I know.” I smiled. “But I am really tired…so no
late-night talking like last night. I need sleep.”

“Deal.”

He walked to his bed and turned on the lamp, and I
was surprised to see that his room was cleaner than when I had left that
morning. In the dim bedroom, it was easy to ignore the small pile of laundry
stuffed in the corner or the stack of folded clothes on his dresser.

Maybe it wasn’t so clean after all.

Wyatt sat on the edge of his bed and pulled off
his shoes while I pretended to look at my phone.

Am I supposed to change in front of him? I need something to sleep in.

Surely I’m not supposed to sleep in what I’m wearing.

Wait, what underwear do I have on?

I subtly reached down to the waistband of my jeans
and felt the lacey fabric between my fingers.

Black thong. Nice.

“You okay?” he asked when he walked toward me.

There was so much I wanted to tell Wyatt, but I
didn’t know where to start. I hadn’t been lying when I’d told Jennie I had no
intention of hurting him, but it was
my
heart I was concerned with. It had taken a beating, and though it had healed
significantly, it was still fragile.

“Yeah…just didn’t realize how tired I am. Do you
have a shirt I can borrow?”

Wyatt went to his closet and pulled a T-shirt off
a hanger and I laughed.

“Who hangs up T-shirts?”

“Just the cool ones,” he defended and tossed it to
me. He left the room and I hurried to change into the shirt. It was long enough
that it hung over my thighs and it was when I looked down I saw the writing. I
started laughing when I saw the name
Tombstone
scrawled on the front in old western font across my chest.

Wyatt walked in and handed me a water bottle and
his shirt was noticeably missing. He was wearing nothing but cotton workout
shorts and I found myself staring.

“I thought you said no one’s called you ‘Earp’
before,” I said, trying to distract myself.

“You can thank Dallas for that one…he said he saw
it in one of the tourist shops and knew he had to get it.”

“I think this might be my most favorite shirt
ever.”

“You can’t have it,” he protested.

“Not sure how you plan on getting it back. It’ll
be in my place tomorrow,” I said.

Wyatt stalked toward me and my stomach began to
swirl, so I put my hands on my hips and held my ground. I wasn’t going to let
him win…whatever game it was we were playing. When he was almost in front of
me, I willed myself to breathe normally so he couldn’t see that he was getting
to me.

He tugged lightly at the hem of the shirt and
smirked. “I want my shirt back.”

“What?” My eyes widened and I took a small step
back. “You can’t have it.”

Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest and the
corner of his mouth lifted. “It’s mine…and I want it back.”

A nervous laugh escaped me and I lunged to my left
and felt him running behind me. I was laughing so hard I put my hand up to stop
him.

“Hold up,” I said breathlessly. “One second.”

He gave me only a moment before he moved toward me
again, so I jumped onto his bed to get across the room.

“You messed up my bed,” he teased before trampling
across it too. He caught me around my waist as I was nearing the door, and
nuzzled his face against my neck. I was braced against the wall as he kissed
the sensitive spot beneath my ear and my head lolled to the side, giving him
better access. Just as my eyes closed, his hands ran up my sides and he started
to tickle me, causing me to squirm with laughter as I turned in his arms to
face him.

“Wyatt,” was all I managed to say through my giggling
before he stopped.

“I love that sound,” he said against my ear.

“What…that I can still breathe despite your
torture?”

“No…I love the sound of your laugh.”

“Yeah, well, I love that you can make me laugh.”

“Do you?” he asked in a husky voice. I knew he was
up to something and I felt like a kid on Christmas morning waiting for it.

But then his hand left my side and slid around
until it was at the small of my back, pulling me against him. There was a
shadow cast over his face from the faint lighting, but I could see he was
looking at me affectionately.

“What?” I whispered. I glanced from his mouth to
his eyes and back. I loved the way he made me feel, and it was then I realized
I had gotten my second wind. The tiredness was replaced by something much more
interesting. I hadn’t planned on anything that night, but the way I felt in his
arms was something I didn’t want to fight.

“The shirt looks better on you,” he muttered.

I didn’t wait for him to say anything else. I
pulled him to me and kissed him, needing to express to him what I couldn’t say.
His tongue slid against mine, a low, guttural sound escaping him. My hands
traveled from his neck to his waist, holding him as securely as he held me.

“You win,” I said, sounding completely winded.

“What’s that?”

“The shirt,” I said, kissing him again, before
finishing. “You can have it back.”

Wyatt leaned back, bracing his arm against the
wall next to my head, his free hand running lazy trails along my hip. I pulled
the T-shirt off and tossed it to the floor, leaving nothing but my black lace
panties and the mismatched white bra.

“You didn’t plan this, did you?” he teased.

I shook my head and smiled. “Nope.”

“Me either.”

He dipped his head down to kiss me again, but I
stopped him by pushing him backward toward his bed. When his legs met the edge,
he sat down and pulled me over to him and I leaned to the side to turn off the
lamp.

Wyatt’s mouth was against my collarbone, trailing
a line of kisses up my neck until his lips found mine. My legs straddled his
thighs and I loved feeling him against me. The first time I met him I had found
him attractive, and despite my efforts to avoid getting involved, he wore me
down, and I was so glad he did. It took me a while to come around, and if you had
told me the day I met him that I’d be in his bed half naked and kissing the
hell out of him, I would have said you were crazy. I was never so happy to be
so wrong.

The make-out session quickly went from PG to
PG-13, about to cross into R. Wyatt was everything I didn’t think I wanted or
could have. I had started out with him wanting to keep my distance—only
because of fear. But the more I spent time with him…the more he kissed those
places that made my toes curl…fear went out the window and I was left with only
want.

As we continued to kiss and I held him to me, his
hands wrapped around my back and his fingers poised on the clasp of my bra,
seeking permission.

“Yeah,” I said between kisses. He didn’t wait for
me to repeat myself before sliding it down my arms and tossing it to the floor
along with the shirt I’d discarded.

“I love you.”

Did I hear that right?

The alarms in my head were going off wildly and I
felt my pulse accelerate. Or maybe it was always thumping in my ears, but it
was only then that I actually heard it.

“What?” I finally managed to ask after a while.

“What—what?” he asked while his lips
continued their exploration.

“You said something.”

Wyatt pulled away and I could sense him trying to
see me clearly in the darkness. He brought his hand up and his thumb grazed my
cheek gently before dropping to my bottom lip.

“I said, I lo—” He didn’t get to finish that
because I crashed my mouth against his and poured all that I couldn’t say into
that kiss.

We were about to make love and he was going to say
the words that most women want to hear before they give in. But they were the
three words that terrified me.

So I tried my best to push them out of my head and
focus on the man who somehow managed to poise himself over me. His finger
trailed along the lacey waistband of my underwear, teasing and affecting me in
ways I hadn’t been in a while. I lifted my hips off the bed so he could slide
them off and waited anxiously while he discarded of his shorts and boxers.