And it’s all because of Gwen.
Apparently, I Like My Movies Hard And My Men Harder
GWEN
I’m still smiling as Wyatt pulls into my driveway, the last of my nerves melting away under the warmth that’s been building between us all night. I didn’t expect to have this much fun. Not with a man who is the complete opposite of anyone I’ve ever dated before. Wyatt looks like he could break concrete with his bare hands, but I’m not afraid of him at all. He’s definitely easy on the eyes, too. What appeals the most to me, however, is that he can make me laugh until my sides hurt.
I have to admit, Wyatt surprised me tonight. He’s funny—charmingly so—attentive in ways I didn’t think men like him were capable of. And dirty. God, so dirty … in little flashes that hit me low in my belly and made it impossible to pretend I wasn’t completely drawn to him.
The truck stops, bringing my attention to the here and now. I turn toward him, ready to say thank you for the night. That doesn’t happen because he’s already out of the vehicle. I blink, then make a move to grab my door handle. It’s all for nothing because Wyatt reaches it first. He opens my door as if it’s something he does every day. I just remain sitting—more than a little stunned.
Dr. Dickhead never opened my door. Not once. He used to act like he was slumming just by being with me. Like I didn’t have the right pedigree or whatever pretentious nonsense he clung to. Looking back now, I honestly don’t know how I ever convinced myself he was what I wanted. He wasn’t. He’s a pretentious asshole—a self-indulgent narcissist who somehow managed to make me feel small.Less than. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the man systematically reduced me to a shell of who I was. He actually had me believing I didn’t deserve better. Even with a year of distance, I don’t know how he did it. I do feel shame that I allowed it, however.
I push my thoughts out of my head just as Wyatt’s hand reaches into the truck, large and warm, wrapping around mine. His touch is reassuring—grounding. It sends a nervous flutter through my stomach.
I’ve been doing my best to rein in his wholewe’re-foreverattitude, but the truth is I like him—a lot.What I’m feeling toward him is so big that the part of me that’s been holding back is getting weaker minute by minute.
Wyatt’s hand stays on the small of my back as we walk to my front door—hot, steady, powerful. I swear it warms my whole body, making my knees feel like liquid. I manage to open the door and turn to look at him. “Thank you for tonight. It was really nice.” He grins down at me, the devastating curve of his mouth making his eyes sparkle. I get caught in them.Completely.My breath snags in my throat.
He leans down, voice low and rough. “You keep looking at me like that, honey, and I’m going to push you up against your house and fuck the hell out of you.” My mouth falls open, but nothing—nothing—comes out. I can’t form a single coherent word. His grin gets even cockier. To seal my fate, Buddy barks from inside, thrilled out of his tiny dog mind. Wyatt sidestepsme, walks right in like he’s been here a thousand times, scoops Buddy up, and says, “Did you miss me, Buddy?”
Buddy barks again, as if saying absolutely. I just stand still, watching him hold my dog like he’s the most precious thing in the world. And for a moment—just one—I admit freely inside my head that this man is winning my heart just as easily as he won Buddy’s. With a sigh and a racing pulse, I follow him inside and lock the door. Wyatt instantly acts as if he is completely at home—boots off, stretched across the chaise of my couch, Buddy curled up in his lap. With one arm draped across the back of the couch, the other pettinghisdog. His gaze is on me like he’s exactly where he wants to be.
“Kick off your shoes and take off your jacket, Gwen,” he says. “Let’s watch some television.”
“It’s getting late,” I protest weakly. “Shouldn’t you be heading home? They’re calling for snow later tonight.”
“Nah,” he says easily. “I’m not ready to leave. I’d miss you too much.”
My eyes widen. That shouldn’t hit me so hard that it momentarily robs my breath, but it does. Even though I know how fast this is happening, and although every part of what is happening right now should terrify me, I feel the same way. I truly don’t want him to leave.
So, I give in.
I kick off my shoes, slide out of my coat, and walk to the couch.Wyatt immediately pulls me into him, adjusting me so my head rests on his chest and my feet curl behind me on the cushions. His body is warm, solid, and feels so damn right it’s scary.He flips through the channels until he lands on a cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie. I snort.
“If you tell me you like these kinds of movies, I should warn you I’m going to start thinking you have no testosterone left in your body.”
He laughs, kisses the top of my head.
“Nah, sweetheart. You don’t have to worry about my testosterone. Trust me, I’ll show you exactly how much of a man you bring out in me later.”
I snort again, trying not to laugh. “Then why pick this?”
“I figured you’d like it,” he says simply. “I’m good just having you in my arms.”
My heart squeezes. No man has ever said that to me. “Do you like Christmas?” I ask quietly.
“I do,” he answers. “I get time with my boy. I love taking him to look at lights and watching him open presents. Not having him on Christmas morning … that’s the one regret I have about finally filing for divorce and walking away from that life.”
“That would have to be hard.”
“It’s hell,” he admits, his voice hoarse in a way that makes my heart hurt. “I miss him every moment he’s not with me. Honestly, the only time I feel like I can breathe freely is when I’m with him—or when I’m with you.”
My head snaps up. “But you barely know me.”
His hand slides around the back of my neck, fingers warm and firm as he pulls me up to meet his mouth. Our kiss is slow, heated, and filled with an emotion I’m terrified to name. It feels like a promise.A vow.A truth neither of us is ready to say out loud. It touches something deep inside me. Something I thought Dr. Dickhead had damaged beyond repair.
“Wyatt …” I whisper against his lips, my breath shaky.
