The knocking continues and I just stare at my door, willing whoever is on the other side to just go away. I only have Andrea for another eight days, the next four of which I want her all to myself since I don't have to work. I'm not sharing a single minute of my time with anyone else.
BAM, BAM, BAM!
The door practically rattles with someone pounding at it now.
"Wyatt... open the damn door. I know you're in there, and I'm not leaving until you do."
Gabby? What the fuck is she doing here?
Immediately, my thoughts go to Hunter and worry that something has happened to him, but then I dismiss that. She would have called... not wasted a trip over here. So I continue to ignore her.
Until she yells, "If you don't open the door right now, I'm going to call your mother."
Okay, now that is something I can't ignore. The girl is crazy enough to do just that and while my mother is the sweetest, most genteel southern lady you can imagine, it's a known fact that southern women can be quite scary when provoked. Seeing as how I haven't seen my parents yet since I've been back, a call from Gabby that she was worried about me would set into motion a cataclysmic mothering event that I would like to avoid.
Don't get me wrong. I love my mother to the ends of the earth. We're tight, as I am with my father, my three sisters, and the passel of nieces and nephews they all have birthed. But I don't have it in me to be "mothered" right now, particularly when I want to do nothing but hide away from everyone so I can enjoy every minute of my free time with Andrea.
I set my coffee cup down on the counter and stomp toward the door. Flinging it open, I glare down at Gabby as her fist is raised up to strike again.
"I can't believe you'd threaten me with calling my mother," I snarl at her. "That's low, Gabs... way low."
She gives me a grin and pushes her way past me, actually lowering her shoulder and ramming it into my ribs so I move out of her way. "Can it, Wyatt. It's time for you to stop hiding."
I shut the door and turn toward her. She walks right into my kitchen, pulls a cup out of the cabinet, and then pours coffee into it. Never glancing back at me, she says, "I have no clue what's up your butt or why you're ignoring your friends, but Hunter's worried, which makes me worried, so I'm here to get your head out of your ass."
Strolling casually back into the kitchen, I grab my cup and resume my leaning position against the counter. Taking a sip, I eyeball Gabby over the rim of the mug and have to admit to myself... she's cute when she's all worked up. Hunter landed himself a winner with her and while I've known her all my life seeing as how Hunter was my best friend, and Gabby was Hunter's sister, Casey's best friend, I've come to know her pretty damn well. Her being here... in my home and reading me the riot act, is not surprising.
It is however, annoying, particularly when I have breakfast plans with Andrea, so I figure the best way to pacify her and get her out of the door is to play her game.
"Listen... I just needed a little time to myself," I assure her quietly, and maybe a little dramatically. "Just taking a much-needed break after that undercover operation... trying to get back in the swing of things. It was really draining, Gabs. But I swear there is absolutely nothing for you to be worried about. I just need some solitude for a few days."
Gabby tilts her head to the side and her eyes swim in sympathy. I can tell she buys my story... that I need some "alone time" because this undercover operation has me beaten down a bit. She opens her mouth... I'm betting to give me some commiseration and then hopefully, to tell me goodbye with an apology for barging in, but before she can say a word, I hear coming down the hallway from my bedroom, "I changed my mind, Wyatt... I decided we should stay in for breakfast and if you're a good boy, I'll let you have me for starters."
Wincing, I lower my head and rub the bridge of my nose. I didn't miss the high arch of one of Gabby's eyebrows and her lips pursing in surprise.
Andrea walks around the corner and into the kitchen. I swivel my head and take in her appearance... fucking gorgeous in nothing but one of my white, button-down shirts, which she is currently holding closed with her hands and not the buttons. She has a sensuous look on her face as she comes into the kitchen.
Her eyes pin to me for just a moment... full of wanton promise... but just as quickly, she registers that Gabby is here. Her gaze goes quickly to Gabby, who only arches an eyebrow higher, and then looks back to me.
Face flushing red, Andrea immediately starts stammering, "Oh, my God. I am so sorry. I didn't realize you have company. This is so embarrassing."
She says all of this while clutching my shirt around her tighter and backing away from Gabby and me.
"So, you need some solitude, huh, Wyatt?" Gabby says with a light sneer. "This operation really wore you out, didn't it?"
"It's not what it looks like," I say as I scrub my hand through my hair in frustration.
"Really?" Gabby says sarcastically as she sets her coffee down and crosses her arms over her chest. "Because it looks to me like you're blowing off your friends... in particular, your best friend... under the guise of needing alone time, and yet... you don't look to be alone, do you? Looks like you are very occupied."
"Um... I think I'm going to go get dressed," Andrea says and starts to turn away from us.
I lunge off the counter, grab her by the shoulders, and haul her back around to face Gabby.
"I assume Hunter told you about our talk the other day?" I ask Gabby.
She nods her head. "Of course he did. He shares everything with me, which is a warning to you that you shouldn't ever tell him a secret you don't want me to know."
"Duly noted," I say curtly. "Then I assume he told you about Andrea, right?"
She rolls her eyes but comes around full circle, pinning me with a direct stare. "He sure did. Said you were all stuck on her but didn't have the balls to go after her, which is sort of lame, Wyatt. I thought you had more gumption than that, but anyway... now I know why you didn't bother going after her," she says as she gives a nod toward Andrea. "You clearly found something to occupy your time."
Then, as an afterthought, she actually looks at Andrea with a soft smile, "No offense."
"None taken," Andrea says with a smile, fully enjoying this now.
I can't believe Gabby just fucking outed me in front of Andrea... that I had feelings for her. Not that I would hide something like that, but it would have been nice for me to tell Andrea that, rather than her hearing it secondhand.
Gripping Andrea firmly by the shoulders, I give her a little push toward Gabby and in two steps, we are right in front of her.
"Gabby... I'd like you to meet Andrea," I tell her. Angling my head down toward Andrea, I say, "Andrea, this pain in my ass is Gabby... a longtime friend and fiancee to my best friend, Hunter."
Andrea's hand shoots out toward Gabby. "Pleased to meet you."
Gabby's face is filled with utter confusion, and I have to restrain myself from laughing at her. She slowly reaches out and shakes Andrea's hand, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two of us.
"This is Andrea?" she asks me dumbly. "Your Andrea... the one that was undercover with you?"
"Yup," I say.
She releases Andrea's hand and shoves her hands in the pockets of her shorts. "I don't understand... when did you go out to visit her?"
Slipping an arm around Andrea's waist, I pull her in close to me. "I didn't. Luckily, she had balls big enough for the both of us and took it upon herself to come visit me. Showed up on my porch step day before yesterday."
Understanding dawns bright on Gabby's face... the light bulb has clicked on. "Okay, now I understand."
"Glad you get it," I say as I release Andrea and reach out to take Gabby by the arm. Tugging her, I start leading her back to the front door. "And now... if you don't mind, you're ruining our breakfast plans."
Gabby turns on her heel, easily pulling out of my grasp, and heads back toward Andrea. Taking ahold of her elbow, she leads her over to the
counter and pours her a cup of coffee. "So, Andrea... this is awesome you came to see Wyatt. What made you do it? Were you stuck on him the way he was--?"
"Oh-kay," I drawl as I stalk toward Gabby and take her by the elbow, this time latching onto her hard. Turning her toward the door, I hear Andrea let out a giggle. "That's it. I'm throwing you out. It was nice seeing you and all, but I'd like some time alone with Andrea. I'll see you and Hunter next week after she's gone, and we'll get all caught up."
Just as I succeed in practically dragging her to the front door, she digs her heels into the carpet and pulls away again. Not as easily this time, but she still slips free.
Turning to glare at me with her hands at her hips, she says, "Yeah... that's not going to work. You both are coming to Last Call tonight, and you are going to hang out with your friends. It's long overdue and besides... we want to get to know Andrea."
"Sorry... no can do," I say with an apologetic shrug to my shoulders but with finality in my voice. "Andrea and I already have plans."
It's not that I am ashamed of Andrea, and it's not that I don't think we'd have fun hanging out with them, but I sure as hell am not sharing her when my time is limited. If this works out... and she comes back to visit, then sure... she'll slip right into my crowd of friends as if she always belonged there. But I'm feeling too proprietary toward her right now.
Rather than capitulate, Gabby takes a step nearer to me and rises on tiptoes. "Tough shit. Cancel your plans. You're hanging out with your friends tonight."
"I am not--" I start to say, but she runs right over me.
"We missed you, haven't seen you in months."
"I get that but--"
"And on top of that," she says while poking me in the chest, "Gavin and Savannah are leaving day after next to spend a few weeks in England visiting his parents. This is the only time they can go out."
I take in a breath to argue with her, but then I feel Andrea's hand press into my back. She takes a step around me, and Gabby's gaze goes over to her.
"We'd love to come," Andrea says. Then turning to look at me, she gives me a steely look... daring me to argue with her. "Wouldn't we?"
Grimacing, I huff out an offended breath and lean down until I'm nose to nose with Andrea.
"You're not as cute as I used to think you were," I grumble, but she just smirks at me before turning back toward Gabby.
"What time should we be there?" she asks.
"Around 9 PM," Gabby says and then leans over and spontaneously hugs Andrea. "Yay. This is going to be so much fun."
"Not so much," I mutter, but Gabby pays me no mind.
"See you two later," she calls out as she opens my door, and then she's gone.
Andrea and I stand side by side for a moment, silently staring at the door. I faintly hear Gabby's car start up outside.
Slowly turning my head toward Andrea, I growl at her. "You are in so much trouble."
Her own head turns toward me, and her eyes widen in surprise. Our gazes lock... bodies tense.
I lunge at her, dropping my shoulder down low and catching her right below her sternum. She half-shrieks, half-laughs as my arms wrap around the backs of her legs and I haul her up and over my shoulder.
"Put me down," she cries out as her hands slap at my lower back.
"Quiet," I bark at her as I walk back toward my bedroom. I raise a palm up and bring it down with a sharp crack on her naked ass--because my shirt has fortuitously bunched up nicely around her waist.
She yelps, then starts laughing at me, and I'm grinning big by the time I toss her on the bed. She immediately rolls to the side and starts to scramble off, but I jump on her, easily grabbing her wrists and forcing her on her back. I straddle her at her waist and then pull her arms down, pinning them under my shins.
Andrea struggles, her face red from laughing and the effort to get away from me, so I decide to really make her suffer. Fingers to her ribs, I start tickling her.
A piercing shriek comes out of her mouth, and she bucks up hard against me, laughing hysterically. "Don't, Wyatt. I can't stand to be tickled."
"Should have thought about that before you committed us to going out tonight," I growl at her and double up my efforts on her ribs.
"Stop," she yells while gasping for breath and trying to wriggle away. "I'm going to pee."
Laughing, I slow my fingers and then lift my legs up to free her arms. Sitting back on my haunches, I look down at her. "Okay, that's a level of kink I'm not into."
She giggles and takes a few deep breaths. We grin at each other a moment, but then her eyes turn a bit serious.
Reaching one hand out, she grasps the elastic waistband of my pajama bottoms between her forefinger and thumb, pulling it away from my skin. Releasing it just as quickly, it snaps back.
Raising her eyes to mine, she asks, "So... you were kind of stuck on me, huh? Thinking about coming to visit me?"
My face flushes, but I don't look away. Staring down at her, I reach out and take the edges of my shirt she's wearing and peel it back, exposing her breasts.
"Just a little," I tell her quietly, dropping my gaze to her chest. I place my palms over the swells and rub my thumbs in circles over her nipples. Her breath catches, and she arches her back.
"Do you think you would have ever come to see me in Pittsburgh?" she asks.
My eyes rise back up to hers. I consider her question, and I'm not sure if my answer is based on what I'm feeling here and now, or what I was feeling then, but it's completely honest when I say, "Yeah... I would have."
"I'm glad," she says with a soft look.
"Me too," I tell her. "Same page and all."
"Same page," she agrees, but I do have to wonder what page we'll be on when it's time for her to return home.
Chapter 18
Andrea
Wyatt turns off the ignition to his Suburban, and I stare through the window at Last Call. It's a one-story, moderately sized building with gray siding that sits oceanside on the Atlantic. From our angle, I can see a large deck on the back strung with white lights and loaded with people. A large, wooden sign that says, "Last Call" hangs over the tinted-glass door at the front. Based on the amount of cars in the parking lot, I'd say this place does quite well for itself.
We both exit his vehicle, and Wyatt meets me at the front where he takes my hand. He's wearing a pair of dark jeans, a gray V-necked t-shirt that's semi-tucked into his pants, which is paired with a brown, leather belt. As I've discovered most people on the beach wear flip-flops, I'm not surprised that's what Wyatt decided to wear on his feet.
I myself chose to wear a maxi-dress with a lime-green, white-and-black geometric design that was cut low in front and even lower in the back. It was tied halter-style around my neck and although you couldn't see them because the dress was so long, the cutest pair of white, gladiator-style sandals.
"So, let me make sure I have this all straight," I say conversationally as we walk toward the building, our clasped hands swinging in between us.
"Hunter is your best friend. He owns this place and is a retired, pro surfer. Gabby is his fiancee and a building contractor."
"Right," he confirms.
"Brody is Hunter's identical twin. You're friends with him as well, but not best. He spent time in prison for a crime he didn't commit and his wife, Alyssa, is an heiress. Both of them work at The Haven, which is a non-profit, no-kill animal shelter that Alyssa started, and they have a little baby boy named Trey. "
I have to admit... Brody's story fascinates me. In the field of law enforcement, you just accept that if someone was convicted, they were guilty. Brody sadly took the fall for someone else in a drunk driving accident that killed a person, and I would assume he must have tremendous depth of character to do something like that.
"Excellent," he praises me. "You were really listening to me earlier, weren't you?"
I tap a finger on my free hand against my temple. "Mind like a steel trap."
Wyatt laughs and squeezes
my hand. "So let's hear the rest."
"Okay... Casey is Hunter and Brody's little sister and Gabby's best friend... They grew up together and are a few years younger than you, Hunter, and Brody. Casey isn't involved with anyone and in your words, 'Everyone despairs of her ever settling down'... or something to that extent."
"You're three for four," he says. "Let's hear the last one."
Taking a deep breath, I blow it out. "Okay... last to round out your posse is Savannah, who is a photographer, but was actually cleaning houses for a famous author named Gavin, who is originally from England. Savannah doesn't have long ties to all of you, but was a friend of the girls and Casey's roommate at some point. She and Gavin are the newest to your bunch, and they aren't married... not even engaged, but they have a little girl named Clare."
Wyatt stops our progress and turns to me, wrapping his hands around my waist. Pulling me in tight, he says, "That's impressive you remembered all of that."
"It's the FBI in me... paying attention to details," I say with a grin before planting a quick kiss on his chin.
"The biggest thing you have to remember is that despite the fact they can be loud, sometimes obnoxious, and completely nosy in an overbearing sort of way, they really are the greatest. You're going to love them."
"I can't wait," I tell him, attempting to step out of his grasp so we can go in.
He doesn't let me go though, his arms banding around me tighter. Wyatt pulls me in close until our bodies are flush with each other. "And, as much as I adore my friends and want you to meet them... have a good time... whatever, I don't plan on sharing you the entire night. We'll stay for a few drinks, and then we're leaving."
"Yes sir, Officer," I tease with a snappy salute... and then he kisses me.
Hard.
Deep.
Possessively.
When he pulls back, I hum low in my throat. "Mmmm... what was that for?"
"Because I can't seem to fucking help myself around you," he mutters as he grabs my hand and starts stalking to the entrance door.
I lower my head so he can't see the grin on my face and keep it tilted down until we step inside.
And wow... this place is so cool. There's a large bar to my right that runs down the length of the wall done in a rich, dark stain with a brass foot railing along the bottom. The floors are done in what looks to be reclaimed wood, also polished to a dark sheen. The walls, however, are painted in texturized blues of about three shades and swirled to resemble large ocean waves. The decor is simple but speaks to the owner's history... a variety of framed prints showcasing various surfers, along with an eclectic mix of surfing memorabilia. A digital jukebox sits in the far corner, but that's all I can see as Wyatt is turning left and headed down a short hallway that intersects with another that seems to lead back to the bathrooms.