Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)(31)

Wyatt smiled at her dig and sighed.

She couldn’t stop the smile any more than she could ignore the man who stood close.

“You’re beautiful.”

Melanie didn’t do speechless often, but the compliment was so unexpected she didn’t know how to respond.

Wyatt removed his hand from hers and slowly pushed a lock of hair from her eyes.

Her gaze moved from his eyes to his lips and he drew in a sharp breath.

Without warning, without an open invitation . . . he was there.

His lips were soft, warm, and electric. Everything inside her tensed, and those butterflies that appeared with the thought of his kiss turned into majestic birds in full flight.

She moaned. The sound surprised her nearly as much as his kiss. Her breath caught and her eyes closed. And for the first time in forever . . . Melanie just felt.

Wyatt’s lips, his tongue seeking acceptance . . . his hand as it rested on the side of her face, tilting it up to reach his . . . it was wonderful. Knock her out of her panties wonderful.

For a brief moment, she felt Wyatt move away.

She dug her fingers into his shoulder and didn’t let him move. He may have started the kiss, but she’d be damned if he ended it. A woman had to hold some power, after all.

The slight laugh under his kiss prompted her hand down his chest.

His laughter ended and she wasn’t the only one moaning.

“Melanie!”

Her name, like nails on a chalkboard, irrevocably pulled her from the single best moment in her life.

The kiss ended as abruptly as it began, but Melanie didn’t let go.

Instead, she held tight as if Wyatt was a shield against the dark magic of a known enemy.

Her eyes shot open and landed on the one person she never wanted to see ever again in her life.

“Nathan.”





CHAPTER NINE




The dark suit hanging off Nathan’s shoulders was as out of place as the man himself.

Melanie scrambled to her feet, her hand grasping ahold of Wyatt’s. “What are you doing here?”

A practiced smile lifted the corner of Nathan’s lips. “It’s good to see you, too, precious.”

The pet name he’d used for her back when made her cringe now. “Don’t . . . just don’t.”

“Who is this guy?” Wyatt took the space in front of her, keeping Nathan at a distance. This close, he threatened the very air in the room.

Nathan stared Wyatt down. “I’m Hope’s father.”

She wanted to deny him the title, but couldn’t.

“And Melanie’s husband.”

“No! You’re not. I am not . . .” She dug her fingernails into Wyatt’s arm tighter. “We didn’t.” Good God, why was she babbling? “What are you doing here, Nathan?”

“I’m here to see—”

“Mommy?”

Oh, God, Hope.

There were times when she and Nathan had been together when he’d turn his head in just the right way, grin ever so much, and she knew trouble sat behind his eyes.

Melanie heard Hope’s feet running up the stairs and she pushed past both the men in the room. She lifted a hand in the air.

“Don’t you even think about it, Nathan. She doesn’t know you.”

“She’s mine, too.”

Every muscle in her tensed and heat rose in her head. “I don’t know why you’re here, but you aren’t going to mess up my daughter with whatever game you’re playing.”

“Mommy?” Hope was just a few feet away.

“Don’t follow me, Nathan.” She wasn’t sure he’d follow her command, but she turned her back on him and headed Hope off before she could reach the men.

“There’s a car in the driveway,” Hope said as she reached the top step.

Melanie glanced behind her and grasped Hope’s arm. “Really? Let’s go find the driver.”

“I looked and looked.”

She all but dragged Hope down the stairs and out the front door.

According to the sticker in the window, Nathan had rented a town car in Eugene.

What the hell was he up to? It had been close to six years since she’d seen him. Last she’d heard he was off to some fancy law school and struggling to stay in.

“Maybe they’re around back?” Melanie pulled Hope to where she’d last seen Miss Gina.

“I don’t think so.”

“C’mon.”

Miss Gina sat on the back porch, a glass of lemonade in her hand, a cigarette in the other. “Did you find our guest?”

Hope shook her head.

Melanie stopped short and knelt to Miss Gina’s level. “I need you to keep Hope out here with you,” she whispered in her ear.

Miss Gina offered a slow smile. “Wyatt, eh?”

Melanie squeezed her eyes shut. “No . . . just please. I’ll explain later.”

Miss Gina narrowed her eyes. “You okay?”

She said yes, and shook her head no.

The older woman took the hint and patted the swinging chair beside her. “Hope, hon . . . what do you say we try and sweet-talk Wyatt into building a tree fort?”

“Like a tree house? Really?”

“Yeah, like a tree house.”