Page 35 of Truth and Temptation
Because Mila and Serena’s observations have made one thing abundantly clear. I have fallen for Wyatt James. I will not claim it to be love, but a strong emotional connection is forming. The question is whether or not that connection goes both ways. And that question is the root of my unease.
Wyatt climbs out of the car and opens the rear door, grabs the bag of dog food and the bag of other supplies, while I carefully get out of the car with the puppy in my arms. We make our way to my front door where I hand Wyatt my key and he lets us in. I sit down on the living room floor and put my new friend down to explore.
“You might want to show her where to use the bathroom first,” Wyatt calls out from my kitchen.
“Smart plan.” I stand up and scoop up the puppy, walking quickly through to my back door. As soon as I set her down on the grass, she squats.
“Good girl,” I coo, picking her back up. Inside, Wyatt has set up a bowl for water and for food, and is busy taking the tags off of the toys and the dog bed. I lean against the kitchen counter for a moment, just letting the comforting feeling of his presence sweep over me.
He belongs here.
That’s a dangerous thought. Especially when it is followed up with a question. What if he doesn’t want to stay with me?
“How about Polly?”
Wyatt’s suggestion pulls me out of the spiral of overthinking I was headed down. A small yip comes from the puppy, who has discovered a toy and is now running around the kitchen with it in her mouth.
“I like it. Polly.”
Wyatt crouches down, and Polly runs up to him with the toy flapping on either side of her mouth. He scoops her up and presses a kiss to her head. “I have to admit, it’s a selfish suggestion. Polly is what I always wanted to name a dog if I got one.”
I sink down to the floor and lean against the counter, content to watch Wyatt play with Polly.
“Why that name? Is there meaning behind it?”
He’s silent for a moment before answering. “It was my grandmother’s name. We were really close when I was young. She died when I was twelve, from cancer.” He draws in a ragged breath before finally lifting his eyes to meet mine. “The same cancer that killed Ryder.”
The grief lacing his words is underscored by the vulnerability and pain I see in his expressive eyes. The importance of what he has just said isn’t lost on me, the impact that may have on Wyatt’s future. Suddenly, the conversation I wanted to have ceases to be a priority. My sole focus is on offering whatever comfort I can.
Going onto my hands and knees, I crawl over to Wyatt and settle in his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist. Without saying a word, I cup his face and pull him in for a soft kiss. His breath escapes him in a long exhale, as if sharing his pain with me has unburdened him of a great weight. We stay like that, holding each other, for several moments of silence. The feeling of Wyatt’s chest rising and falling underneath me is soothing with its strong, steady movement. But then, something shifts. His breathing accelerates, and showing his significant strength, Wyatt manages to stand up with me still in his arms.
“Are you okay leaving Polly out here unsupervised?” There is a sense of urgency in his tone. A raw, pulsing need. I recognize it for what it is. A desire to escape from the pain.
“I’ll put her in her crate,” is my quick reply. Thankfully, the shelter gave us the crate she was accustomed to traveling in, and it is easy to get Polly settled in there. As soon as I am done, Wyatt lifts me back into his arms, this time cradling me as a groom would his new bride. He kisses me deeply as he walks down the hall to my room and lays me down on my bed.
Any thought of Polly, of my feelings, of Wyatt’s intentions — it all fades away. The only thing I can feel is a deep, unending need for his lips on my body, igniting a fire from the smouldering embers that are left every time he touches me.
Chapter fifteen
Wyatt
Telling Paige about my grandmother, and the hereditary nature of the cancer that killed her and Ryder, wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. If anything, it lessened my grief slightly, just knowing that someone else was there for me. For no reason other than they wanted to be. That being said, yet again, I didn’t tell her the whole truth. I didn’t tell her that my risk of developing leukemia is significantly higher. How could I burden her with that? How can I burden anyone with that.
I won’t. Especially not Paige. Because the terrifying truth is, I’m developing feelings for her, stronger than I should be.
Last night, holding her in my arms, I had a dream where I stayed in Dogwood Cove. Okay, so there were also dancing whales and some guy with three arms, but the point is, I woke up feeling happy. Like that could be my future, if I wanted it to be. And I do, but also, I don’t. The idea of walking away from Crawford Books and opening myself to the life I’ve always wanted is tempting. But the idea of disappointing my parents, of not doing everything I can to live up to Ryder’s memory, that overrules everything.
“Mmm. Good morning.” Paige’s sleepy voice brings a smile to my face.
“Hey baby. How did you sleep?”
She turns over in my arms, cuddling into my side. This softer side of Paige, the loose and relaxed woman who isn’t holding herself back, this woman is pure temptation. All of our differences disappear in the intimate moments we’ve shared, and she’s simply the woman I’m slowly falling for.
“Surprisingly restful, seeing as your body is a constant source of heat. I tend to prefer a cooler sleeping environment, but your warmth was…comforting.”
That makes me chuckle. “I would apologize for being hot but I think you like that about me.” I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively at her, earning a giggle.
We both hear Polly whine from the kitchen at the same time, and Paige jerks upright.
