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Lying on Wyatt’s couch, with him under me and the side of my head resting against his chest and his fingers in my hair, I watch the show he put on and try not to fall asleep. The thing is I’m so comfortable, and the show is so boring, it’s really difficult to keep my eyes open at this point. When his phone on the coffee table begins to ring, I close my eyes and say a silent prayer that it’s not work calling him in.
“Hey, Mom,” he says, and my eyes fly open.
“Hey, honey, what are you up to?” a woman asks while I stare at the TV unmoving.
“Just here with Genevieve. We closed on the house earlier, and she was able to shift around some clients, so she’s home with me.” Why is he talking to his mom about me like she has any idea who I am?
“Oh, she’s there?”
“Yeah, one second,” he mutters, then asks quietly, “Baby, you awake?” With my heart pounding, I wonder if I should just play dead, because I have a feeling I know what is going to happen if I show him that I’m awake. “Genevieve, I know you’re not sleeping. You’re holding your breath.”
Shit.
“What?” I lift my head and squint my eyes like I’ve been asleep for good measure. Of course, because he’s a jerk, he knows my play and laughs at me.
“My mom’s on the phone.” He turns the phone toward me, and I see that he’s not just on a call, he’s on FaceTime, so his mom is on the screen, and her smile is just as beautiful as her son’s—as she looks at me lying on top of him.
“Umm, hi.” I wave, and she smiles bigger and laughs.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You too. Wyatt talks about you all the time.”
“She’s lying. I never talk about you,” he tells her, and my stomach bottoms out.
“That’s not true. You told me that your mom tries to hook you up with women whenever you visit.”
“I did tell her that,” Wyatt says, and she starts to laugh.
“I was trying to give him a reason to move back home.” Her face softens. “I guess that’s not going to happen anytime soon unless you like Florida.”
“I haven’t ever been.”
“Well, we need to change that,” she says, and Wyatt turns the phone back to him.
“Where’s Dad?”
“Out fishing with your brother. I was calling to see if you would be okay with all of us coming for a visit at Christmas.”
“You know you’re always welcome, and I can even promise that you won’t have to sleep on a pullout when you’re in town and will have your own rooms.”
“Then I’m going to start planning,” she tells him, and I listen to them talk for a few more minutes before they hang up and he puts his phone back on the coffee table.
“Your mom seems sweet,” I tell him, resting my chin on my hand as his fingers slide through my hair. “Would you ever want to move back to Florida to be closer to your family?”
“No.”
“Even when you’re old and ready to retire?”
“Not even then.” He cups my cheek. “I like the view here, and the people.”
“It’s your favorite place?” I ask, and his expression changes ever so slightly.
“No,” he says, then asks, “Is there anywhere else you want to live?”
“No.” I rub my lips together, wondering when I decided that this would be where I planted myself permanently. When I drove back into town, I was so sure that I’d eventually get my feet back under me and likely move on. Maybe it’s because I hate the idea of not being able to see my family or watch my niece or nephew grow up, or maybe it’s because of him. Whatever it is, I know that this is the only place that has ever truly felt like home, and over the past few weeks that has only gotten more apparent.
“Come here.” He drags me farther up his body, then slides his hand into the hair at the back of my head and pulls my mouth down to his. Letting my legs fall open, I straddle his lap and moan against his tongue when he cups my breasts. Rocking against him, I listen to him groan and smile against his mouth.
