Meant To Be Different Page 8

  That took the last of her stubbornness out of her. The corners of her mouth quirked up. “You know it’s supposed to be an insult, right?”

  Wyatt turned in his seat slightly and reached out to tuck a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “Coming from you, it sounds like a pick-up line.” He winked. “Luckily, I’m a sure thing.”

  This time she laughed, and he couldn’t resist leaning over to run his lips over her coal-colored ones. She moaned against his mouth, and he wrapped an arm around her soaking waist, sliding her closer to him on the bench seat. Her arms snuck up his chest to rest on his shoulders. Only a few weeks into their relationship and this girl already had a huge piece of his heart.

  He finally broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “Why didn’t you just call me to come get you, Angel?”

  She shrugged a little and lowered her eyes. After a few moments, she lifted them again, and a world of hurt was reflected back to him. “I wanted to save Roxy and Roscoe.”

  Wyatt knew he had a tendency to be self-centered. Maybe even a bit of an asshole. But he paid close attention to everything his Gigi said and he was pretty damn sure she’d never mentioned these Roxy and Roscoe people ever before. He pulled his head back and raised an eyebrow. “Uh, who?”

  She reached down and laced her fingers through his, resting them on the leg of her soaked jeans. “Two dogs. They are at the shelter. Well, they’ve been there. For a long time. And today…” She sighed heavily. “Wyatt, they are going to be put down, and I can’t let that happen.”

  Oh, his little avenging Angel. Pride coursed through him with her declaration, and he grinned at her. A passionate Gigi was a thing of beauty. And he couldn’t help but be the tiniest bit smug that he had a hand in stoking her fire and giving her a purpose other than watching her mother’s slow decline. “Aren’t you glad your boyfriend is a freaking genius and suggested you volunteer there?”

  She narrowed her gaze at him, but the smile still lingered around the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, yeah. Score one for the Rhinestone Cowboy.” Every muscle on her face firmed. “We need to save them, Wyatt. We can’t let anything happen to them.”

  He squeezed her hand. Yeah, she loved animals and yeah, when she had a purpose, she went after it head on, but there was something more here that she wasn’t talking about. He knew her. It had only been a few months, but he knew her. “Talk to me, Angel.” He pulled his arm from around her waist to cup her cheek. “What’s going on?”

  Gigi made a choking sound, and the tears began to stream down her face faster than the pounding rain against the windshield. “Six months. Maybe a tiny bit more but…”

  Wyatt stroked his thumb beneath her eye, wiping away some of the tears. His stomach sank to his toes and he was fairly certain he knew what she was talking about.

  He couldn’t imagine being Gigi. The very idea of losing either of his parents terrified him, but this was the reality she faced. Never knowing what would await her arrival home each day. “Your mom?”

  She nodded and fell against his chest, sobbing against his green plaid flannel shirt. He ran his hands up and down her back, searching his brain for something to say that could possibly make her feel better. Rather than choosing the wrong words, he sat in silence, offering soft touches and soothing sounds and praying it was enough.

  Finally she lifted her head and his heart stumbled at the haunted look in her eyes. “The doctors told her today, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it, Wyatt.” She sniffled, and despite the serious conversation, his heart warmed. She was adorable. “But I can save Roxy and Roscoe.” She grabbed his hand from the side of her face and clutched it against her chest. “Please help me.”

  Right now, he’d give her the moon if she asked. “Anything, Angel. I’ll do anything for you.”

  She jumped into his lap, despite the steering wheel, and planted kisses on his cheeks, his neck. Then she turned to straddle his legs, pressing her lips to his and grinding against him, making him moan. Teasing every one of the teenage hormones he barely managed to keep in check in her presence.

  But she deserved better than this. There was no way in hell her first time—their first time—would be in the cab of his truck on the side of the road. With fresh tears still lingering in the corners of her eyes. Silencing his screaming body, Wyatt gently pushed her away.

  “Dammit all to hell, Angel.” Wyatt struggled to stifle the raging heat coursing through his veins. The devastation etched on her face lanced through his heart as she scrambled off his lap. Shit. He had been trying to protect her, but all he’d managed to do was hurt her. He hooked a finger under her chin and made her look in his eyes. “Yes. Hell, yes. One day. Just not today, Angel. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything in my life, but not right now. Not like this. Not when you’re in pain.”

  Traces of hurt still lingered on her face. “One day soon?”

  He groaned and grabbed her hand, kissing her palm then the inside of her wrist. “One day when you’re ready. But today we need to go save a couple of mutts from the jaws of death.”

  She giggled and nestled into his side as he put the truck in gear and pointed it in the direction of the shelter. His nostrils flared as he tried to covertly adjust his jeans. This was going to be the longest and most uncomfortable trip in his entire sixteen years on the planet.

  ***

  Georgia

  An unusually light swipe of eyeliner across her upper lid and she was done. Georgia laid a hand on her stomach, willing the swarm of butterflies to calm their frantic rhythm. Her teeth sank into her bare lower lip. The creamy face staring back at her was shocking, but she had decided that—just for tonight—she would drop the goth girl persona. Well, mostly. The black lace tank top and glittering skulls dotting her white skirt still screamed to her inner dark side.

  She took a deep inhale that stuttered on release. Wyatt was coming to dinner, and her mother had even put forth the effort—and it really was such an effort—to move from her bed to the table to eat with him. What she could eat.

  An ironic sneer curled her upper lip. The stupid freaking cowboy was practically a celebrity in her house. Damned if she’d let him in on that detail and feed his already massive ego. It was all she could do to rein it in with frequent insults. Although they usually backfired and resulted in even more preening.

  The doorbell snapped her back to reality, and she raced toward the entrance. Her steps slowed when she reached the living room, and four pairs of eyes landed on her. All of them widened as her parents and grandparents took in her appearance. “I’ll, um, get that.” She muttered the words and cleared her throat.

  She pulled the door open and was brought up short. Her jaw dropped and her eyes roamed the length of her boyfriend dressed…like a normal human. The only hint of the rhinestone cowboy that she loved to mock was the ever-present hat perched on his head.

  “Holy hell, Gigi, what happened to you?”

  The corners of her mouth turned down. Brown shoes and khaki pants teamed with a dark sapphire button-down shirt and matching tie. A tie. The freaking cowboy was wearing a freaking tie. “Me? What the hell happened to you?” She leaned back to catch her mother’s gaze from the sofa in the living room. “Sorry, Mama, I didn’t mean to curse.”

  Wyatt bent down, lips close to her ear. “Gigi, you look gorgeous, but I miss my Dark Angel. With the black lipstick that stains my shirt and my skin.” His mouth grazed her jaw as he slowly pulled away.

  Her lids met and she sucked in a breath. Her sixteen-year-old body raced with hormones that piqued in Wyatt’s presence. He knew how to press every button to ignite the flame of desire in her but then turn down her every offer—her every plea—for relief. Constantly saying the time wasn’t right. And she loved him for it.

  Georgia laced her fingers through his, tugging him through the front door. Her eyes snapped open, catching his blue ones. “We’ll discuss the rest of that later.”

  She led him into the living ro
om and offered an internal cheer when he immediately snatched his hat off his head. Her grandparents were tolerant of her rebellious foray into gothic style, but they were old school when it came to manners. The stupid freaking cowboy just earned himself some brownie points.

  “Daddy, I know you’ve already met Wyatt.” She turned to her mom, nearly completely engulfed in the overstuffed couch, and grandparents seated in recliners next to her. “Mama, Gram, Gramps, this is Wyatt.”

  Her mother’s face softened and she patted the empty spot to her left. “Wyatt, come sit and talk to me.”

  At the same time, her grandmother rose and grabbed Georgia’s hand. “Why don’t we go and fix the salad? You can set the table.”

  Georgia opened her mouth to argue. The table was already set and her grandmother didn’t allow her within three feet of the kitchen as a rule, unless she was making a bowl of cereal. That had always been safe…so far. Before she could speak, she noted the pinking of her mother’s pale cheeks as Wyatt sat on the cushion and gave the woman a lopsided grin and a wink.

  Wordlessly she followed her grandmother into the kitchen and began cutting vegetables, grateful for the open floor plan that allowed her to covertly watch the interactions between her boyfriend and family, but mostly her mother. The chunks of cucumber were rough and uneven, but she paid them little attention.

  How had she ever thought Wyatt wasn’t special? Within moments of his entrance, the dark cloud that hung over their home lifted. His over-the-top animated retellings of things that had happened during training soon had her father and grandfather doubled over in laughter. And a sparkle came to her mother’s normally dull eyes.

  The magic spell Wyatt seemed to cast over her family carried through the entire evening. Her fingers found his beneath the tablecloth and gripped tightly. When his confused gaze found hers, she mouthed, “Thank you.”

  The puzzled expression melted into understanding, and he squeezed her hand with a wink and a barely perceptible nod. He returned his attention to the volleying discussion between her father and grandfather on some sports team she had no interest in. Wyatt slid in a few references to his older brother Tanner and all his athletic accomplishments.

  When the conversation moved on to his family, Wyatt visibly perked more. In addition to the unabashed pride he clearly had for Tanner, he sang the praises of his two younger brothers, Connor and Dean. Connor was quite the artist and already had his mind fixed on becoming an architect. And Dean, the baby, was an animal whisperer who had zero plans for any sort of future…but at twelve that really didn’t matter. Apparently all the Carlisle boys were golden in one way or another.

  Lena Marsh offered a shuddering sigh and threw her husband a plaintive look before fixing her dim gaze on the boy seated beside Georgia. “Wyatt, this has been the best night I’ve had in a long time.” A soft smile curved her lips as her eyes flicked to Georgia before finding Wyatt again. “And I couldn’t be happier to know that my daughter’s first boyfriend is as charming and bright as you, but I’m afraid I must get back to bed now.”

  Within seconds, Barry was at her side and supporting her as she stood. Wyatt leapt to his feet to take her other arm, but she waved him off, gave him a peck on one cheek, a pat on the other, and shuffled down the hall.

  Georgia got up and rounded the table, claiming Wyatt’s hand and pulling him toward the back door. “We will be right back, Gram. And I’ll help you clean up.”

  The light that had brightened her grandmother’s face dimmed at her mother’s exit. She shook her head with a tight-lipped smile. “That’s okay. Take your time.”

  Georgia all but dragged Wyatt through the backyard to the large oak tree where the tire swing her grandfather had hung for her mother as a child still resided. She pressed him against the opposite side of the tree, out of the view of any prying eyes from her house.

  “Gigi, what—”

  His words were devoured by Georgia’s mouth as she poured every emotion he’d created by just being Wyatt into the kiss. His hands fell to her hips before sliding around her waist to pull her closer. Unchecked tears streamed down her face.

  Wyatt set her away from him slightly, his eyes searching hers in the fading light of the autumn evening. “Angel, what’s wrong?”

  Georgia shook her head, needing a few extra seconds of silence before she trusted her voice to speak. “Nothing, Cowboy. Absolutely nothing.” She tugged on the back of his neck until his forehead rested against hers. “Thank you for being my stupid freaking cowboy, Wyatt.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Wyatt

  Present Day

  “This is coming along faster than I expected.”

  His older brother’s voice carried up to the hayloft, and Wyatt was grateful to have a decent excuse to abandon the hot work. He climbed down the ladder, landing close enough to Tanner that the cloud of dust from his work boots against the ground coated the bottom of the other man’s dress pants.

  “Dammit, Wyatt, you’re lucky I’m on my way home.” Tanner uttered a few more colorful names for his brother as he brushed at the dirt clinging to his slacks.

  Home.

  Nothing had felt like home to Wyatt for more than a decade. He loved every moment of his career, but with every small reminder of what he was gaining cemented the knowledge that his gut led him down the right road again. A home that was more than fifty percent done. A ranch and training facility to take his passion to the next level. And Gigi.

  He grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler near the wide door and tossed another in Tanner’s direction. That last one was more of a wild card than a certainty, but Gigi was the one thing in the world worth fighting for. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

  “So would you like to clue me in to why you wanted me to stop by or are you playing the role of strong, silent asshole today?” Tanner discarded his suit jacket and tie, tossing them over the railing.

  Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Listen, I need…” The final word stuck to his tongue, refusing to exit his mouth. It was foreign and undesirable. “Help.”

  He hated asking for help, and the fact he created a career and a life he was damn proud of completely on his own was a point of pride for him, but if anyone could understand winning back the trust of the woman you loved, it would be his older brother. She may still think of him as a stupid freaking cowboy, but even he was smart enough to know that bailing the way he did coupled with more than a decade of pure yellow-bellied cowardice that kept him from just picking up the damn phone to call Gigi meant he had to focus on gaining her trust before anything else.

  His older brother’s brows lifted as he tilted his head back to chug the cold liquid. Finally coming up for air, he recapped the empty bottle and tossed it into the bin a few feet away. “You want my help?”

  “Let’s not make this into something it isn’t.” Wyatt moved saddles from one side of the barn to the other for no reason other than he was used to being the one giving his brother shit and didn’t really like having the tables turned. The movement made him comfortable and gave him an excuse not to look Tanner in the eyes. “I just need…I need to know how you did it.”

  Tanner narrowed his gaze in on his younger brother. “Did what?”

  “How’d you get Izzy to trust you again?”

  The steady ticking as time passed in silence nearly drove Wyatt insane. He and Tanner never gave the other a moment of peace. Even when he was out on the road they would trade barbs through phone calls and texts. Occasionally Wyatt made a point of making a comment in an interview that seemed innocuous enough but he knew would piss off his brother.

  Next to riding a bull, he considered it his greatest talent.

  But they always had each other’s backs. Unquestioningly. And if anyone could help him prove his regret and win back Gigi, it would be Tanner.

  “You saw Georgia?” The muted question pierced the thick air. He should have known the great Tanner Carlisle would know exactly who he was talking
about without even speaking one syllable of her name.

  A second later his ringtone blared, disturbing the atmosphere between the two men. Tanner raised a brow at the intrusion. “That her?”

  He snorted at his brother as he picked up his phone from the stall where he’d set it. “Highly unlikely.” More like hell would have to freeze over first.

  Damn. Jim. Again.

  He held up a finger to his brother’s rolling eyes as he clicked to answer the call. “Jim, for the fourth time this week, I am not doing any interviews or book deals or reality shows. Stop trying.” He ended the call and silenced the phone, irritation with his former manager growing.

  Tanner eyed him suspiciously. “Everything okay there?”

  “Just my former manager having trouble saying goodbye to the best paycheck he had.” Wyatt turned to rest his rear end against a half wall of one of the stalls. “And yeah, I did see Gigi. You’ll never believe this, but she works for that Joseph Boots and Apparel company. They’re going to be one of the corporate sponsors of my competition, and they’re designing all the clothes I can sell here at RA. My first full day back in Asheville, I was having lunch with Georgia Marsh.” He scuffed his boot against the ground. “What are the chances?”

  Tanner crossed the barn to stand beside his brother, copying his relaxed pose. “And she didn’t knee you between the legs?”

  Squinting at nothing on the ceiling, Wyatt chuckled. “Brother, if looks could kill, you’d be digging my plot somewhere on the back forty.” Even though he silently considered Tanner his best friend, he was a little uncomfortable admitting that Gigi’s only interest in him currently outside of JBA was as an experimental roll in the hay. An answer to the “what if” from adolescence. Basically the same thing every super model and actress who didn’t need his famous ties wanted, to see how good the cowboy could ride out of the saddle.

  None of that was anything Tanner really needed to hear. Calling their prearranged hookup a date sounded so much more palpable. And much closer to what Wyatt was really after. “But she agreed to a date. One. Already did the picnic thing with her up on the hill so she could have a view of everything.”