Wyatt frowns at me. “You don’t look happy.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” I frown too. Frowns aren’t always about grumpiness. Sometimes it’s a thinking face.
I cross to him, leaving Heath standing alone for a moment. “You told me to trust my instincts,” I say softly, carefully. I need him on board here. I think he is, but I’ve never done this before.
“I did.”
“I need more. I can’t just be a bride. A wife?” I swallow around a lump as Wyatt ducks his head. “I need to be a little miss, too.”
Wyatt’s head jerks up.
My breath catches in my throat. Does he feel the same way?