Say You Want Me Read online

  I need to be brave in order to take on this new life and be the woman who cares for her child. And who knows? Maybe this will be the best thing to ever happen. I didn’t plan this, but I’m still going to be someone’s mommy. The baby needs me, and I know once it’s here, I’ll love the little nugget.

  “This isn’t going to be easy,” I say as I rub my stomach. “I don’t know how to do this. So, just a forewarning, I might suck as a mom. I figure you should probably know I don’t really have that trait. Your Aunt Presley is the one who does that. I’m probably going to be a mess for a while, but I promise to try really hard to be better.” I whisper the words to the tiny child growing inside me.

  And I will try.

  Because that’s what moms do.

  I rock back and forth in the chair, looking out at the lake. “And so it begins.”

  “What begins?” A deep voice rumbles, causing me to jump.

  My teacup falls forward, clanking against the ground as I let out a loud squeal. “Shit!” I glare as Wyatt stomps up the steps. “Wyatt! You scared the crap out of me.”

  “I was hoping you were awake,” he says as he leans down and grabs the cup. His eyes lock on mine, and I have to remember to breathe. He looks unbelievably attractive in his faded Tennessee hat and dark blue jeans, which cling to his legs and outline his perfect ass. The gray Hennington Horse Farm T-shirt, which is clearly adored and fits him perfectly, allows me to peruse every muscle in his chest. Everything about him causes my mouth to water. He’s sexy without even trying. Nothing he’s wearing is to impress anyone. He’s just impressive. “You okay?” he asks after I still haven’t spoken.

  “I’m fine. Trying to get my heart to calm.” And my libido to ebb.

  He sits on the chair next to mine. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I figured you heard my truck.”

  “I guess I was lost in my thoughts.”

  “Have you thought about this situation?” His voice has a tinge of hesitancy.

  “That’s all I’ve thought about, Wyatt.”

  His hand lifts and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. His finger brushes across my cheek and I actually sigh aloud. Like a freaking idiot. Wyatt smiles at the sound and cups my cheek. “Me too. I can’t stop thinking about it or what you’re going to do. We need to talk. We need to figure this out.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Wyatt drops his hand. “Again, it’s not just you. It’s my baby you’re carryin’. I want to help you.”

  He’s right. It is his baby, and I already know what he wants. He’s not once asked me what I want. “I won’t keep him or her from you. I’m not like that.”

  “I know.” His lips press together. “Tell me what you’re thinkin’. Maybe I can help ease your mind.”

  I wish it were that simple. There’s nothing that I’m going to say that will ease his mind. If anything . . . I’m going to lose my own. “What am I thinking? You really want to know?”

  He leans back, tossing one ankle across his knee and painting an easy smile on his face. “I’m all ears, honey.”

  “Okay, you asked for it.” I make sure the warning is clear in my tone. “I’m freaking out. We’re having a baby, and we’re not even together. My choices are: be alone in Philadelphia and raise this kid or move here—neither choice is appealing to me. I feel as if someone has taken away my life and then I feel like a selfish bitch for thinking that way,” I ramble the words as fast as I think them. “I hate this. I hate that I’m having a baby with a man who doesn’t even like me, let alone love me. This should be a joyful time in my life, and it’s not. I feel robbed. I didn’t get to pee on a stick and hide it from my husband so I could do some grand gesture to tell him we were having a baby.” Tears start to fall as I let it all out, all the while Wyatt holds my hand. “I never really thought much about having a kid, but at least when I did, I figured it would be with my husband. Instead, we get this! How is that fair? It’s not. I wish this never happened. I wish I never went home with you. I wish I could go back in time and take it all back.”

  When I say the last word I instantly regret it.

  That was mean, and it’s not true.

  I don’t regret being with him. I had every intention of doing it again when I boarded that plane two months ago. And I want this baby. Sure, it’s not the way I wanted it to happen, but there’s a human being growing inside me, and I’m going to love him or her, I’m already starting to feel better about it. I need a little more time.

  Wyatt’s face shows nothing. His eyes are soft, and I don’t see a hint of judgment in them. “I’m sorry,” he says with so much sorrow it breaks my heart. “I know I’m not your first pick, but I can tell you not everything you think is true. And I’m sorry you feel that this has taken your life away from you.”

  “No.” I take his hand in mine. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that. You don’t deserve it. You got robbed, too. We did this together, and I’m being selfish.”

  He lets out a light chuckle. “You’re not selfish. I said close to the same shit to Trent last night. I wanted to be married and have kids with a woman who knew what a catch I am.”

  I laugh.

  “I’m serious.” He stands and looks at me with an overly serious expression. “I’m the most eligible bachelor here in Bell Buckle.”

  “Slim pickings, huh?”

  “You’re about to be a very hated woman here. You don’t know how many girls love me.”

  “Your humility is truly astounding. I’ve heard all about your sexual escapades.”

  He laughs. “You’ve also been one of those escapades, honey.”

  I roll my eyes. He’s right. I have been. “I want us to at least be good friends. You know, like, know who the other person is. For the baby’s sake.”

  Wyatt smiles and extends his hand. “Come for a walk with me.”

  I place my fingers in his palm and let him pull me to my feet. “Okay.”

  We start walking, and he hooks my hand into the crook of his arm. It’s sweet, and a little part of me thaws. Maybe this isn’t what I wanted, but this, right here, is nice. Wyatt doesn’t say anything, but I can feel him tense a little. It’s as if he’s preparing for something and trying to build up the courage.

  “I want you to consider moving here while you’re pregnant,” he says after we break through the trees on a dirt path. “Now, I know what you’re feeling. I know you feel like you’re losing everything, but what if something happens and you’re up there? What if you need help? It would take a long time for me to get there.”

  He’s going to make it damn near impossible for me to say no. “I’m not some damsel in distress.”

  “No.” He stops walking. “You’re not. I don’t think you’ve ever been that, but you’re the mother of my child. It’s my job to care for you, and whether you believe it or not, I do care about you, and I have even before I knew you were pregnant.”

  I’m speechless. What he said was probably the single most perfect thing to say. “That means a lot to me. Thank you, but what would I do here?”

  “Anything you want. We’re not backwards here. You don’t have to work if you don’t want to, and you can take some time to yourself. Hell, write a book. You could open a cupcake place in town. You can do whatever the hell you want. I’m just asking for some time.”

  The bakery is what keeps tripping me up. I’m sure that Erin could take it over for me. Since we got the manager up to speed, I don’t do very much there anyway. I was going to start focusing completely on opening another location.

  This is crazy.

  There’s so much to ruminate. But I can only imagine how he would feel if something happened to me or the baby while I was in Pennsylvania. I don’t know if it’s enough to make me do this, but it’s something to weigh.

  I can’t even believe I’m considering this.

  “What if we find out we hate each other? What if all we were was a night of unbelievable sex? Where do we go from there?”

 
Wyatt takes my face in his hands. “What if we don’t hate each other? Or if we do, what’s the worst that can happen? You’ll be close to Presley and your nephews. What if you realize that I’m the best man on the planet and you can’t live without me? Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves and to the baby to find out? Give this a chance.”

  “What does that even mean? Us?” I ask.

  His hands drop to my shoulders as he holds me in place. All I’ve ever felt for him was an intense physical attraction. He was a means to a very long dry spell. It was easy to let myself sleep with him since he lived here and I was there. Plus, there were no real emotional ties for either of us. We knew what it was and that worked fine for me.

  “Us.” Wyatt’s word echoes in my head. “A real chance at us. It means we date or something. You’ll keep cookin’ my kid. I’ll take you out and show you I’m not the crap you’ve heard. I was up all night thinkin’ about this. I want you to move here and just see . . .”

  I shake my head because he’s crazy, but I wonder. “I—” I stop.

  I’m confused. The picture he paints is alluring. I know he’s a good guy at heart. If he weren’t, Presley would never speak so highly of him. The boys adore him and constantly talk about Uncle Wyatt. There’s a lot of unknowns.

  What if he’s right? But what if he’s wrong?

  “You?” He pushes.

  “I-I I don’t know!” I blurt out. “This is too much.” I push back from him, needing some space to breathe. When he’s close like this, it confuses me. I want to say yes even though it’s probably the last thing I would ever do. I turn my back to him and look out at the trees, but then I feel his heat as he steps closer to me.

  “It’s a lot, but I’m trying.” His deep voice vibrates through me. “Give me until you have the baby. I at least want to see my first kid born.”

  He’s trying, and I should too.

  “I’ll give you three months.” I spin around to face him. “I can’t promise anything more than that, but I’ll come here for the next few months, and we’ll work through this.”

  “Three months?” he repeats. Wyatt crosses his arms and stares me down.

  “I can’t be away for longer than that right now.”

  “I don’t like it,” Wyatt admits, dropping his arms to his sides and showing me a hint of sadness. “But it’s a start.”

  “Wyatt,” I warn.

  He puts his hand up. “Don’t say anything, darlin’. We’ve got three months of talkin’ to do. You need to get home and pack. I’ll see you soon.” He dips his head close. “Real soon.”

  It’s official . . . I’ve lost my ever-loving mind.

  ~ Three Weeks Later ~

  “I MADE SPACE FOR YOUR stuff in the closet,” Wyatt says as he unloads my car.

  I’m living here.

  In his house.

  While I carry his baby.

  “Thanks,” I say, trying to get my head on straight. I agreed to this, but I can’t stop myself from feeling as if I had been forced. But it’s me who is forcing this to happen.

  After I left Bell Buckle with a plan, I became focused. I knew that the goal was to pack a few months’ worth of things, get Erin all set up, and find someone to watch my apartment. Presley, who was over the moon about my extended stay in Bell Buckle, recommended letting one of our bakers house-sit since she still lived at home with her parents. She was more than excited, and then I was moving—well visiting for a long period of time—to freaking Tennessee.

  Wyatt called me at least once a week, probably to make sure I wasn’t backing out, and I did my best to sound hopeful. He told me he’d done some work in the house, and was looking forward to me coming. We spent no more than fifteen minutes on each call, but it felt like we said so much in those short periods. It seemed like he was truly excited, and he kept reiterating how much he wanted to spend this time together, which confused the shit out of me.

  “I think that’s everything.” He puts the suitcase on the bed.

  I nod, unable to find my voice. My hormones are a mess, and I can’t seem to stop myself from spontaneously bursting into tears. I had to pull over on the drive down because it became too much. I’m not necessarily sad. I’m overwhelmed. I’m living with my baby daddy, and I don’t have a job. I’m a walking disaster.

  My eyes roam the small but cozy bedroom. Everything in Wyatt’s house is simple and has purpose. There are no decorations on the walls and there doesn’t seem to be anything here that doesn’t have a purpose. It’s clean but comfortable. The walls in his bedroom are painted a neutral cream color, the bedding is a blue down comforter with a ton of pillows. Seriously, the bed is pretty much completely covered with them. The only thing that stands out is the very large television mounted to the wall.

  The rest of his house is the same. He clearly lives as a bachelor. The furniture looks as if it’s been around a while, maybe hand-me-downs from family or friends who were getting rid of stuff, yet each piece is cared for. He showed me around when I arrived, and while his house seems small, there’s a lot of space.

  The room I’m most excited to use is the bathroom. Complete with the most amazing claw foot tub I’ve ever seen and a shower that could easily fit four people. The shower heads line the walls and there are two huge rainfall spouts up top. It looks heavenly.

  I put away the rest of my stuff and turn to see Wyatt leaning against the door. “So,” my voice cracks a little, “what’s the plan?”

  “Well, the plan is to get to know each other.” He moves toward me and sits on the bed with a grin.

  I laugh. “While living together.”

  “It’s like speed dating,” Wyatt muses. “We’ll use the time we have and see where it goes.”

  “Well, we can at least skip the awkward after part. We’ve already tackled that. Oh, and the whole, ‘What happens if we get pregnant?’ talk.”

  Wyatt and I both laugh. He takes my hand and pulls me on the bed next to him. “I’m not sure what exactly we should be doing, but we’ll figure it out. We take it one day at a time.”

  At least he’s as lost as I am.

  “I think we need rules.”

  His brow rises. “Rules?”

  “Yes. Rules,” I say sternly. “I have rules.”

  “By all means.” He swipes his hand out in front of him.

  Here we go. I’m pretty sure he’s not going to like this, but too freaking bad. “Absolutely no sex with each other or other people. No dating other people, either. No going to sleep angry. No using the baby as a way to get what we want. No snoring. No eating off my plate. Do not ever touch my coffee if you want to keep the use of your hands . . . those are my rules.”

  The last one is really the most vital. But the rest are important as well.

  Wyatt stares at me with a funny look on his face. “No sex? Don’t you think that ship has sailed?”

  “Well, that ship sank, but it’ll be good for us to spend the next few months without complicating things more. So yeah, no sex.”

  His grin grows wider. “What if you can’t handle being around me and jump my bones?”

  “Not happening,” I retort.

  If we’re going to try this, we’re going to do it right. Sex is what got us in this predicament to begin with, and I’ll be damned if we make things worse. I already know that the sexual chemistry between us is off the charts. Now, we need to see if the rest of what we’re going for has a chance or if it’s just the situation making us question it.

  He stands, stretching his arms in the air while rotating back and forth. His shirt lifts, revealing his tanned skin and washboard abs. I gulp, unable to tear my eyes away from him. “I think the next few months are going to be interesting,” he muses. Wyatt crosses his arms, lifts his shirt off, and tosses it in the corner. “I’m going to hop in the shower.”

  My mouth waters at the sight of his chest. Each part of his body is solid, and there’s not an ounce of fat on him. He’s ridiculous. Who the hell actually looks like this? It’s
not normal.

  I make a fist and glance away. If I stare, I’ll want to touch. If I touch, I’ll end up naked. That would be bad.

  “Have fun.” I tuck my hair behind my ear.

  “Angie?”

  “Huh?” I keep my eyes down, pretending there’s something incredibly interesting on the ground in front of me.

  “You okay?” His voice is smug, which breaks my staring contest with the floor.

  “I’m perfect.” My eyes meet his, and I pull all my sass to the forefront. If I can stay angry or determined, I might be okay. “Pregnant, but perfect.”

  He smirks. “Perfect.” He continues to look at me as he unbuttons his jeans. “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

  Jackass.

  “Nope.”

  My stomach drops as his pants fall to the floor.

  “Good.” Wyatt knows damn well what he’s doing.

  The bite of my nails pressing into my palm stings. I stand without looking in his direction, and walk out of the room, slamming the door on my way. The bastard chuckles.

  This is going to be a long three months.

  I head into the living room and plop on the couch. I grab the book I brought with me and start reading this book of horrors about pregnancy. No one talks about this crap. They don’t talk about the joys of hemorrhoids and leaking bladders. They talk about the baby and how it felt when it kicked. I’m pretty sure Presley left out her nipples turning colors. Each chapter brings a new horrifying reality of what my body is going to go through.

  Why the hell do girls have to go through this shit? Fucking Eve and her inability to stay away from that fruit. I blame her. I blame my sister-in-law for not sharing all this crap. I would’ve had my uterus removed if I had known I was going to have leakage.

  Wyatt exits the bedroom, already dressed in his typical jeans and T-shirt attire, and I slam the book shut and sit stunned.

  That really happens to some women while they’re in labor?

  “What is that?” he asks looking at me with concern.

  “This?” I hold the book up. “This is a fucking horror novel. Only it’s not fiction. Nooo, this is reality.” I toss it on the floor.