The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(89)

“Huddle up,” Miri directed, gesturing between Wyatt and I. “I want to get a photo of you two.”

Wyatt grabbed my hand and pulled me into his lap. His arms wrapped around me from behind and he pressed another kiss to my temple. Miri took a few shots on her phone before pausing to admire them. She put a hand to her chest with a wistful expression before she returned to her table.

I moved to stand up but Wyatt held me firm.

“Oh my god, you were amazing!” Shima yelled. Empty glasses littered their table and their faces were flushed. They all nodded with enthusiasm.

I beamed back at them. “It was fun.”

I didn’t know what I was so worried about, singing karaoke. No one had cared if I couldn’t sing. Karaoke was about looking stupid and loving it. I sighed and settled further into Wyatt’s chest.

People came up to say hello to us, to congratulate us and chat about my store or Wyatt’s surf shop. At one point, I yawned, and Wyatt squeezed my arm.

“You want to go home?”

I nodded. Home. When he said it like that, it hit me right in the heart. Wyatt’s house was home and I had been there a week. How could I go back to my place now?

Something passed through our gaze. The green of his shirt made his gray eyes pop, and his gaze turned hungry as it dropped to my mouth. My face was hot. I was hyperaware of where I touched him, where his hands gripped me.

“Wyatt, you’re gorgeous,” I told him with a small smile.

This should be the part where I normally would remind myself that Wyatt wasn’t my type. That he wasn’t forever-material. That he didn’t want something long term, that he didn’t want something to tie him down to Queen’s Cove when he might be leaving in a few weeks.

I couldn’t remember any good, concrete reasons why Wyatt wasn’t my type.

“You’re the only guy who’s ever made me feel like this.” The words slipped out and my breath caught. A hint of panic hit my bloodstream and I swallowed, watching Wyatt’s face carefully.

These past few months, I had grown, but I had also grown around him. Not far from town, there was a forest trail where someone had left a bike against a tree decades ago, and the tree had grown around it. They were one now. There was no cutting them apart without destroying the bike or killing the tree.

My heart clutched hard. That was like Wyatt and I. He was part of me now.

Wyatt nodded, watching me with a funny expression on his face. Sad, almost. “I want to be the right guy for you.” His hand rubbed up my back to touch my hair.

“Once we get home,” I bit my lip and his gaze flared. Heat pulsed between my legs. “You can give me another lesson.”

Hunger passed through his eyes and he nodded slowly. His hand gripped my waist. “Let’s go.”





26





Hannah





Wyatt’s hand seared my skin the entire way home, resting on my bare leg above the knee across the front seat of the car. My window was down and my hair whipped around. The breeze was welcome against my warm face. Inside my shoes, my toes wiggled with anticipation.

Wyatt and I were totally going to have sex.

I swallowed, bit back my nervous grin, and shot a sidelong glance at him. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel but other than that, he was cool and calm.

Of course he was. He’d had sex tons of times. Probably hundreds.

Me? Three. Three times. Three sub-par, disappointing times with a guy I didn’t care about, who didn’t care about me.

I blew a breath out.

“How ya doing, bookworm?”

I nodded and met his gaze. Concern, with hunger in the background, subdued. Like he was holding it back.

I was about to tell him I was fine, but something didn’t want me to lie to him. It was Wyatt. He had slowly become something more to me. My stomach flopped and I bit my lip again.

“I’m nervous.”

For a second, panic streaked through me at the possibility that we were on different pages. Maybe he had no intention of taking me home and us going all the way. He glanced between me and the road and his hand moved up to cover mine. He gave me a quick squeeze that made my heart skip.

“Me, too.”

“You are? Why?”

A rueful smile passed over his face. “It’s you, Hannah. It’s different.”

His words made my heart beat harder, and a few beats were just for him. He pulled the car onto his street and parked in his driveway. We both stayed seated and he turned to me.

“We don’t have to do anything.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as his throat worked. He watched my expression carefully. “We can go inside and hang out or read or go straight to sleep.” He lifted a shoulder. “Or I can take you home if you don’t want to stay here again.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to go home.” I took a deep breath and summoned that bravery thing I had been practicing all night. “And I don’t want to go to sleep yet, but I do want to go to bed.”

Wyatt’s gaze turned hungry and his jaw clenched. “Nice line.”

I snorted. “I thought so.” I glanced down at his lap. His erection strained against the fabric. The sight of it, the physical proof of his attraction to me, made me ache between my legs for him.

Wyatt wanted me, and I wanted him. When I put it that way, it was so simple.