Chapter Seven
Josie
Lying in Wyatt’s arms all night is like cuddling with a teddy bear. A giant, breathing, sexy as sin teddy bear that makes you feel safe in all the ways you never imagined you could feel safe. Hell, I didn’t even know I felt so vulnerable until he was lying next to me. That’s how right this feels. More so, the thought of what we started last night played through my head on repeat like some trashy movie I can’t get enough of.
His oversized dick, his big hands, the heat of his mouth all over me like a wild animal… I need more. I need all of him. I need him to pop my cherry and claim me for his own.
The thought sends a bead of sweat from my forehead as we bump and jump in his truck up the winding mountain path toward Henry and Cami’s place. There’s a much shorter way to their house off Main Street and up Mountain Road, but we’ve chosen the round about path that takes us by the creek and near the river. It’s not a well-maintained road, and barely anyone travels it but miners, so if a rogue car follows, we’ll know something is off.
Thankfully, though, we’ve been driving for at least twenty minutes and nothing. No cars, no people, just the two of us and the simple beauty of our Rugged Mountain.
“What did you get Raven for her birthday?” I ask, noticing the box of pizza in the back seat still unopen from the dinner we never got to last night. “Tell me it’s not the pizza.”
He smiles. “I guess that’s why we were so hungry this morning.” His hand plants on my thigh as he glances toward me. “I made her a vanity set. Whenever I go over there, she says she has no where to put on her makeup, so I figure this should help.”
My brows raise. “Oh, you win. I got her a sketch pad and some pens. You’re really close to Henry and them, huh?”
“The closest. The Baxters are like siblings to me. Since my dad left when I was young, I gravitated to Mr. Baxter, Henry’s old man, as a pseudo father figure. After Henry and Maddox married and had families of their own, they adopted me as Uncle Wyatt and I take it seriously. No one touches those kids without answering to me.” His voice is deep and graveled when he speaks and there’s a tone of seriousness in his voice that’s heartwarming and shows me a side of him I haven’t seen before outside his words… a side that most definitely wants a family. “What about you? Are you close with your family?”
“Yes, to a nauseating level. It’s the kind of level where we check in after every car ride and talk on group chats all day long. What about you? You seem pretty close to your grandma.”
He glances toward me. “My sister Izzy and I are all she has. She stays quiet up by the river. So when I visit, I try to make it meaningful, though part of me wonders if she’s breaking the water heater on purpose at this point so I’ll come fix it.”
“Sounds like something my mom would do. One week I didn’t visit for three days, and she made up a story about needing someone to help her carry in the bags of chicken feed from the shed. Apparently, my father had pulled out his back. I got there, and she’d made a huge supper and dessert… the whole thing. I wouldn’t have it any other way, though. I hope someday I’m luring my kids back home with nonsense.”
Wyatt smiles and squeezes my thigh. “How many kids do you want?”
“I don’t know, maybe three. But I could see myself wanting more if the timing was right. What about you?”
“As many as I can. I want to be flat out annoyed by the number of children we have…” He pauses. “I have. We have. I have, someday. Hopefully soon. Sorry. I—”
“I know what you mean,” I say, trying not to read into the‘we’he just blurted, but I am, and my heart is happy and swooning at the thought of holding his seed in my womb and growing our baby.
Wyatt adjusts the rear-view mirror to the far left and looks out the side window. His voice is concerned as he says, “Do you see that?”
I look toward the woods, my stomach tying in knots as I hold Raven’s cake on my lap. “No. What do you see?”
“There’s a four-wheeler in the woods.” He stops the truck and holds steady for a long moment listening, watching. “It stopped when I did. It has to be Tag.”
My brows narrow. “I don’t know him, but I can’t imagine him on a four-wheeler. What about his suit?”
Wyatt looks toward me, then back toward the dirt road ahead. “I need to press forward, but I’m going to take him to the abandoned mine at the top of the hill east of the river.”
“Then what?”
“There’s a cabin at the end of that road. We’ll get out and go inside like we’re heading in for the party. When Tag does whatever stupid thing he’s going to do, he’ll do it to us, and not ruin Raven’s day.”
I love how Wyatt is thinking, but as a baker, I’m concerned about things like the cake not arriving in time for the party. Maybe it’s my mind’s way of coping with stress. It’s the same way Cami was trying to find solace in a psychic. We cling to what we can to calm our minds. And right now, I need some calming.
The last couple of miles are quiet as Wyatt keeps an eye on the four-wheeler and I run through scenarios where the icing melts or the cake topples. I went all out with buttercream horses. I’m not sure what they’ll look like melted and collapsed. I’m assuming something along the lines of a donkey. Again… not important right now.
The truck comes to a stop in front of an old hunting cabin next to a mine shaft that I’m not sure is believable as an actual house. It’s not going to fall over, but the boards are worn to a light gray and there are cracks in the foundation. The ground is reclaiming the space. Behind the cabin is a large meadow with a stockade fence surrounding at least an acre.
I squint and look closer, trying to gauge what I’m seeing. “Are those horses? Why would someone leave horses up here?” There are at least six that I can see from where we’re parked.
Wyatt narrows his eyes. “Who the hell knows, miners maybe. We just need to flush Tag out. Once he steps into that cabin, I’ll tie him up, and drag him back to Colorado Springs. Maybe Cami can get an order of protection against him for stalking.” He exhales and squeezes my hand. “I’m going to go in first. We don’t know if anyone’s here. Why don’t you pretend to take a phone call and I’ll text you when I know it’s safe to come in.” He leans in toward me and kisses my lips gently, leaving behind the sweet taste of the syrup we had for breakfast.
“I’m waiting here,” I say, holding my phone to my ear before putting up a single finger to let him know I’ll be in momentarily.