Meant To Be Different Read online

Chapter Thirteen

  Wyatt

  Present Day

  “Do you think that you two could possibly just stop screwing up your relationships so I can have my weekends back?” Dean hefted another box out of the bed of Wyatt’s truck. “And so I can stop feeling like some contestant on a weird design show challenge?”

  Wyatt smacked the back of his youngest brother’s head lightly, the same way he’d been doing since they were kids. “Do you think you could stop bitching and just work? It would go a lot faster if you could manage that.” He turned and looked at Tanner, carrying supplies to the front porch. “Is this the kind of shit I used to give you?”

  His older brother snorted. “Used to? Try still do. Every damn moment of every damn day.”

  A sly grin curled Wyatt’s lips, and he threw an arm around Dean’s shoulders, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Aw, come on, think of all the lessons you’re learning from the masters. One day you’ll need us to help you whenever you decide to pull your head out of your ass and decide you’re gonna ask Jillian out.”

  An unusual swath of crimson stained Dean’s cheekbones, and he shrugged from beneath Wyatt’s faux affectionate embrace with a sharp elbow check to the older man’s ribcage. “She’s just my friend. Now do you think you could hurry this little decorating challenge up? Some of us have actual lives here.”

  Tanner unloaded a mountain of fluffy pillows and comforters covered in plastic from the bed of his own truck, a silent testament to Tanner’s efforts to win back the wife he nearly lost. The softer side of Wyatt that he rarely let be seen aside from Gigi warmed. Despite all their back and forth jabs and unspoken competitions, seeing his brother and sister-in-law overcome the biggest obstacle of their marriage was not only encouraging for him, but a damn fine sight to behold. If there was a relationship he believed in more than him and Gigi, it was Tanner and Izzy.

  “How did Connor manage to skirt this sweet brotherly reunion anyway? His happy little ass should be here too.” Dean moved to a new topic to complain about.

  Wyatt pushed the tailgate of his truck up with enough force to engage the latch. “Kelsey was dragging him to some bridal show or some such thing.” He grinned and adjusted the brim of his hat, elbow resting on the truck bed. “But hey, if you feel like trading places with him, I’m sure he’d be none too happy to be out here in the fresh air and let you listen to discussions on the pros and cons of fresh flowers versus artificial. Or if all brides really should wear white.”

  Dean paused mid-step and squinted at Wyatt. “I don’t know if I am more disturbed by the fact Connor has to endure that or you knowing that much about what happens at bridal shows.”

  Three hours later, Dean hopped into the seat of his low-riding car and peeled out of Wyatt’s driveway without a backwards glance at his brothers.

  “Seriously, was I that big of a pain in the ass?” Wyatt handed his brother a bottle of water before taking a long draw from his own.

  “As I said before, what do you mean was? You’re still a damn thorn in my side.”

  A rare moment of vulnerability flared in Wyatt. He plopped down on the bumper of his truck. “Do you think there’s actually a chance in hell I can come back from this?”

  The arm Tanner raised to take a drink froze in midair. Finally he took a small sip before recapping his bottle. He sat beside his brother, staring out at the seemingly endless land stretched before them. “I don’t know. Hell, there are days I don’t know how I came back from damn near ruining my marriage.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the hand holding the water dangling between his legs.

  Silence descended over them, and Wyatt’s mind replayed old, familiar scenes. He and Gigi holding hands, kissing, the countless hours they spent together in the wake of her loss. Even their fighting and sparring—maybe especially that—made up some of his favorite memories.

  “Do you think you did the right thing when you left?”

  His brother’s quiet question immediately struck at the heart of it all. “I think I made the right decision to leave on my own, but I know damn well I handled it the wrong way.” He smacked his hands to his cheeks and scrubbed them up and down. “And she would’ve forgiven me if I’d managed to pull my head out of my ass long enough to call her. Or write. Or send a damn carrier pigeon.”

  Tanner nodded up and down slowly, taking another long draw of water. “Yeah, that was probably stupider than the whole leaving with no notice part.”

  Wyatt groaned and pressed his back into the warm onyx tailgate. “So that’s a no then? I’m screwed?”

  His brother stood and slid his vibrating phone from his pocket, grinning down at the screen. A few swipes of his fingers across the glass and he shoved it back in his pocket. “You’re not screwed unless you want to be. None of that means she can’t forgive you and you can’t work this out; it just means you’re gonna need to work your ass off to do it.”

  Tanner clapped his brother on his back and headed toward his own truck. “Trust me, brother, it can be done.”

  ***

  Georgia

  Butterflies created an erratic swarm in Georgia’s stomach with the tinkling of the doorbell. She fastened her earring before descending the stairs. He was early.

  In one form or another, Wyatt had been part of her life for more than a dozen years. Even though she told herself she was over him and had moved on, she still scanned through his social media sites more often than she’d like to admit.

  Even when he wasn’t present, his draw was undeniable. Even when she was with someone else. Even when she had a ring on her finger.

  Wyatt always hung at the back of her mind and then rushed to the front nearly every night she collapsed into her bed crying. She spent the time she was licking her Bruce-induced wounds, missing her stupid freaking cowboy in a very different way. While Wyatt had shattered her eighteen-year-old heart when he left, she’d known even then that it hadn’t been malicious or calculated.

  Doubt and fear simmered beneath the confident affect she presented. But when she pulled the door open and her stupid freaking cowboy quirked his mouth into a lopsided grin and he touched the brim of his hat, everything other than the warmth of their history and ever present, unlimited lust vanished.

  Her own lips twitched with a barely contained smile. He was ridiculous in the very best possible way. “Can’t drop the Rhinestone Cowboy persona even just for one night, can ya?”

  Wyatt stepped across her threshold, extending to his full six-foot, four-inch height, and snaked an arm around her waist. Instinctively, her hands flew to his chest and stroked the soft cotton shirt. “You don’t want me to, Angel. Not really.”

  Georgia tilted her head back, and the reality of her situation hit her heart with the force of a chaotic storm. She was in Wyatt’s arms again. Exactly where she’d spent the first year after his departure praying to be and the last place in the world she ever expected to find herself again. Wyatt.

  But this time, everything was different. She wouldn’t allow him access to her heart again. This was going to be simply about the attraction and desire they’d always had. Finding out if it was still there and discovering if they could be as good together as she always suspected.

  This was sex and nothing more. She didn’t have time for a relationship and sure as hell didn’t have the fortitude to survive another disappearing act. Her energy was focused in two places, her family and her work. Wyatt offered a brief reprieve, but that’s where it ended.

  His grip tightened and he pulled her closer, dipping his head to brush his lips across hers. “You look beautiful, Angel.”

  She let herself melt into his embrace and surrender to his kiss. Neither things she did easily, but it was Wyatt. She’d be telling the biggest lie of her life if she said she didn’t still care for him. She just didn’t trust him. Or anyone.

  The tender, soft caress of his mouth on hers caused moisture to collect in the corners of her eyes. Her hands traveled up the front of his shirt to lock
behind his neck. If they never left this very spot for the entirety of the evening, it would still be perfect.

  With a final gentle peck, his lips abandoned hers and she fought against a cry of frustration at the loss. She cleared her throat, unsure of her voice but needing to add a little sarcasm-laced levity to their situation. Because that’s what she did and that’s who they were. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of hibiscus.” Her arm swept down the length of her side, indicating the white sundress with pink flowers printed across it.

  “I wasn’t talking about your clothes there, Gigi.” The hand at her side gripped harder, and the other moved to cup her cheek. “You’ve always been the most beautiful woman in the world to me.”

  The heart that had been soaring through the sky at being held by Wyatt—kissed by Wyatt—once again plummeted to the earth, greeting reality with a large crack in its already scarred surface. Images she’d forced herself to look at of Wyatt on the beach with one scantily clad celebrity after another, holding each other close, tumbled through her mind. She disentangled herself from him and stepped past him onto the front porch. “I’m sure the swimsuit model you dated would be devastated to hear that. Close the door, will you?”

  She forced her sandal-clad feet into as effortless of a glide as possible, wanting to appear calm and unaffected by the notion of Wyatt with anyone else. The needle prick of her conscience reminded her that she hadn’t pined for him all by herself over the years. And she sure as hell hadn’t been celibate. Considering the diamond sparkling at the bottom of the bay, she really had no right to—

  Just as she reached the passenger door of his truck, his hand closed around her exposed bicep, spun her around, and pushed her into the warm metal of the cab. “Dammit, Gigi, would you stop?” He pressed his forehead to hers, and the heavy cadence of his heart beat against her chest. “Half of those so-called relationships were publicity stunts. That kind of shit is part of your career. You know how it works. Some virginal former Miss Teen Oklahoma wants to break into the entertainment business. Her agent calls mine and suddenly we’re dating. She could cling to my status to get some elevation for her career. And I’d have a few months where I appeared to be in a stable committed relationship so I could snag all those companies that are just like Elias’s and focused on the personal lives of their spokespeople reflecting well on them.”

  She swallowed, her breathing a shallow, staccato rhythm. “And the other half?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to suck them back in. Yes, he had hurt her, but this wasn’t a fair battle. It sure as hell wasn’t productive.

  “They weren’t you. No matter who they were, what they looked like, or how much money they made…they weren’t my Dark Angel. They weren’t my Gigi.”

  His mouth met hers in another kiss, this time passionate and demanding. Needy and desperate. The hot metal against her back was no match for the heat radiating off Wyatt’s body. He sucked on her lower lip, and her knees buckled. She melted into him, and his grip tightened, keeping her both upright and pressed tightly against his body.

  When they finally came up for air, his breathing was as labored as hers. “I miss you, Angel. There wasn’t a day that went by I didn’t think of you and wish…” He shook his head. “I was young and stupid, and I screwed up. I promise I will never do something so stupid again.”

  She held his jaw with one hand, swallowing once. Twice. She wanted to tell him that he wouldn’t ever have the opportunity because they would talk about stuff and handle problems together, like a team…

  But those were promises she couldn’t make. She had priorities that didn’t include letting Wyatt Carlisle into any part of her life other than her bedroom. No matter how desperately she wanted to collapse into him and let him work the same magic he had when they were kids.

  “Let’s just worry about tonight.” Georgia tossed the hair that had fallen forward behind her shoulder. “And tonight I believe we have…plans.”

  She winked, pushing him away a little so she could climb into the cab of the truck, and exorcised all the dark thoughts with them. For one night, she wanted to enjoy the fact her stupid freaking cowboy had come home.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Georgia

  Twelve Years Earlier

  She would not skip. She absolutely, positively would not skip.

  That would be the complete antithesis of everything she stood for. But damned if that stupid freaking cowboy didn’t make her happy. He made everyone happy. The corners of her coal-colored lips twitched, begging to be released into the full smile that was so hard to contain when she was with him. Or saw him. Or talked about him. Or thought about him.

  “Hey, um, where ya going?”

  Georgia’s gaze landed on Paige, the strawberry blonde who had a locker right next to hers and was the only person other than Wyatt she could stand in this town. She might be best friend material. If she believed in that sort of permanence.

  “Looking for Wyatt. We’re supposed to be leaving soon for his training.” Just like they did every Friday. The warmth and comfort that came from their small routines, the things in her life she could count on when chaos reigned everywhere else, was better than the fleece-lined coat she wore to shield against the December wind. Florida girls were not cut out for this kind of weather.

  Paige nodded, toeing the concrete walk with her sneaker. “I was wondering if maybe you’d want to come over to my house this weekend. Like watch a movie or something?”

  Still not willing to admit that her time in North Carolina was going to last a lot longer than she wanted, Georgia had kept Paige at arm’s length as much as possible. Their friendship offered a companion for lunch and conversation between classes since her schedule varied from Wyatt’s, but she was scared to get too close. To care too much. Things like that didn’t work out for Georgia.

  The lifelong friends she’d had quickly stopped emailing and messaging soon after she moved. All the promises to stay in touch disappeared.

  Even her mom…Georgia swallowed the egg blocking her throat. Maybe not by choice, but even her mom would be gone soon. Nothing lasted. Friends weren’t forever. The effort to even try seemed pointless and stupid.

  But Paige had been the first person not afraid to approach the goth girl that everyone but Wyatt avoided. That counted for something, right?

  “That actually doesn’t sound awful.” She winced as the words crossed her lips. If Wyatt had been here, he would have groaned, well used to her surly responses.

  She was struck speechless when Paige tilted her head back and laughed. “That sounds about right. I’ve got an annoying as hell younger brother though, so awful is always on the table.”

  Georgia bit the inside of her mouth before dissolving into matching giggles. Maybe with people like Wyatt and Paige, this backwoods hick town wouldn’t be so bad after all. “I just, uh, have to check with my dad and my grandparents first.”

  Paige’s curls bounced with her nod. She ripped a sheet from the notebook she was carrying in her arms, produced a pen from who knew where, and scribbled something hastily. “Here’s my number. Just give me a call. We can order pizza or something.”

  A blue sedan pulled to the curb and honked. Paige shoved the blue-lined paper at Georgia and offered a small wave. “That’s my dad. I gotta run. But call me.” She turned and jogged a couple of steps before stopping and spinning back to face Georgia. “Oh, I think I saw him by his locker when I was coming out.”

  Georgia curled her fingers slightly in both acknowledgement of the Wyatt-shaped lead and a farewell. She frowned at her watch as she trudged back into the school building, nearly void of all students now. Where the hell was that stupid freaking cowboy anyway? They were going to be late. There wasn’t one part of her that wanted to miss the chance to see him get thrown onto that round hind end by some mammoth bull.

  The familiar tan hat stood out right away. It was hard to miss when it was attached to more than six feet of leanly muscled hotness digging through
his locker. As was the petite blonde clinging to his back, her arms snaked around his waist, palms pressed into his chest, and her cheek resting between his shoulder blades. Not a beam of light could pass between them, every plane and curve of their bodies perfectly fitted together.

  Without making a sound, she turned on the thick heel of her clunky black boots. She paused just outside the door to release the shaky breath that had been trapped at the sight of her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—being held by someone else. Someone who was everything she wasn’t. Perky, happy, and…normal.

  She drew in a lungful of the cold air before heading home. Even if she had allowed them, tears wouldn’t come. The pain was too deep. Too fresh. And too damned much.

  Every nerve tingled, prickling her skin as she walked. The cars driving past at the slow, residential speed limit went unnoticed, overridden by desolate buzzing in her ears.

  She forced a reassuring smile for her father and grandparents as she crossed the threshold and managed a weak excuse of not feeling well to explain her unusual presence on a Friday night. As soon as the door to her bedroom latched behind her, she stripped off her clothes and tugged on shorts and a faded green shirt emblazoned with the logo for the college of her dreams far away in Tampa.

  That’s what she would focus on, she told herself as she curled under the thick down comforter and hugged her pillow close to her chest. Focus on school and grades and making sure USF wasn’t just a dream, it was her reality. No stupid freaking cowboys allowed. And the only bull she would care about from here on out was the iconic bull of USF.

  She had a plan. And it was a good one. She only wished the tears that finally broke through the dam she’d so carefully crafted would listen to the plan and obediently retreat.

  “Gigi? What’s wrong? What happened?”

  The tapping on her door matched the drumline in her head, but it was the deep baritone rumble that made her groan. The very last thing she wanted to hear. “Go away. I don’t feel good.”