Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)(35)

He leaned toward Luke and kept his voice low. “I’m going to follow him.”

Luke offered a nod while Wyatt moved out the back door.

The dark sedan Nathan drove belonged in a B movie filled with espionage and spies . . . not in the sleepy town of River Bend.

It wasn’t as if Wyatt could blend in with traffic, and he wouldn’t know how to do it if there were any. He pulled up behind Nathan’s rental and kept an appropriate distance while they inched through town.

It wasn’t until they passed Miller’s and the gas station that Nathan started to stare through the rearview mirror.

Wyatt kept an empty look on his face and tailed the man.

As soon as they passed the last speed limit sign stating thirty miles per hour, Nathan sped up.

Wyatt kept pace without getting too close. The two-way road had several blind corners and more than a few four-legged critters that crossed the thing.

When Wyatt had to take a corner a good fifteen miles per hour faster than he’d ever done before, he started to mutter, “Why are you in such a hurry?”

They passed the cemetery, rounded another corner before the long stretch of road leading to R&B’s. Instead of blowing past the bar, Nathan skidded the car into the gravel and pulled to a stop.

He sat behind the wheel with the engine running for several minutes, giving Wyatt the impression he was going to rip out of the parking lot just as quickly as he’d pulled in.

Nathan pushed out of the car, dark sunglasses over his eyes, and started for the door to R&B’s . . . then, as if it was a second thought, he twisted in Wyatt’s direction and marched across the gravel lot.

Wyatt jumped from his truck, shut the door, and leaned against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What the f*ck do you think you’re doing?”

“Out for a Sunday drive,” Wyatt replied.

“Screw you.”

The words you’re not my type sat on his tongue unsaid.

“Messing with another man’s family is always a mistake,” Nathan told him.

“Is that some kind of threat, Counselor?”

Nathan was only a couple of inches shorter than Wyatt; his build told Wyatt that Melanie’s ex didn’t spend all his time behind a desk pushing papers.

“Just a statement, Redneck. Melanie and Hope are mine. You’d do well to remember that.”

The man thought he was insulting him. Instead, the compliment made Wyatt smile.

“I’m not sure how the rules are in your county, but here in Redneckville a man takes care of his family, provides for them. If he doesn’t, he leaves that role open for another to take over.”

Nathan shuffled his feet and Wyatt kept going. “In case you haven’t noticed, Melanie has a family here that doesn’t include you. And family in Redneckville take it personally when you screw with one of their own.” Wyatt ended with a nod.

“Is that a threat?”

Wyatt grinned. “Just stating facts, Counselor.”

Nathan clenched his fists several times before taking a deep breath. Wyatt didn’t bother to unfold his hands and waited.

“You don’t scare me.”

That was unfortunate. The fact the man was lying to himself was a terrible quality.

Nathan turned on his polished heel and took long strides to his car. Once there, he turned and waved a finger in the air. “Stop following me.”

“Call the sheriff,” Wyatt muttered to himself before sliding behind the wheel and pulling in behind Nathan as he drove away.

Nathan pulled into the parking lot of a motel several miles outside of town.

Wyatt took pleasure in every glare the man tossed his way.

Wyatt sat in his truck for about an hour before Nathan reappeared with a suitcase in hand. He took note of Wyatt’s presence, tossed the case in the trunk, and drove away.

By the time Wyatt returned to River Bend, the town had all but closed up for the day, only the diner and R&B’s still showed signs of life.

He took the liberty of showing up at Luke’s uninvited.

Luke didn’t question his presence, just opened the door wide and let him in.

“Wanna beer?” Luke asked, turning his back and heading into his kitchen.

“Have anything stronger?”

“Ohh, that bad?”

Wyatt let the door slam behind him. “Long day.”

Luke removed a bottle of Jack from the cabinet above his fridge and placed it on the kitchen table before searching for a clean glass.

Wyatt swung the forgotten pizza box toward him and opened it in hopes of a few scraps. Without asking, he grabbed a slice and bit off a cold end with a moan.

“It’s like college all over again,” he said between bites.

“I wouldn’t know,” Luke said.

Straddling a chair, Luke took a pull on a beer and waited a few seconds while Wyatt took the edge off his hunger and washed it down with a shot of whiskey.

The burn in the back of his throat warmed him with a shiver.

“Well?”

Wyatt shoved the last bite into his mouth and reached for another piece before talking. “Followed him to the airport in Eugene.”

“So he’s gone.”

Wyatt spoke around the pizza. Why did cold pizza on an empty stomach taste so good? One of life’s questions, to be sure. “Not for long.”