“But I like you right here.”
Oh, yeah . . . she enjoyed it, too, but she wasn’t about to tell him so. “Like a coach?”
He shook his head. “Like a man.”
There she was, all flustered and not moving away. “I think you like making me blush.”
“Guilty.” His voice had dropped and his eyes lingered on her lips.
Every cell inside her shivered.
She swayed a little closer, gripped the side of the shed to keep from being pulled into his gravity. “I have a kid,” she blurted out.
“I know. We’ve met.” He lifted a hand and brushed a lock of her hair away from her face.
“You’re younger than me.”
He offered a laugh. “Cougar material.”
It was her turn to grin. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
Wyatt left his hand on the side of her face and forced her to meet his gaze. “Do you always talk when a man is about to kiss you?”
Great, she hadn’t missed the signals.
God, he was going to kiss her. Was she ready for that?
“I talk when I’m nervous.”
“I make you nervous?”
“You zap my brain cells.” She hadn’t meant to say that.
“A talent I didn’t know I had.” He moved closer.
She stiffened. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”
He stopped moving, ran his thumb along her lower lip.
Melanie’s knees did that wobbly thing that only happened when her world tilted. Wyatt was doing a great job of tilting her world. Her eyes drifted to her feet.
“Melanie?”
She met his gaze again.
“I’m a patient man.”
Instead of the kiss he spoke of, he eased back, letting the moment pass.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
A look of confusion marred his brow. Suddenly, apologizing felt like the wrong thing to do.
“Don’t be.”
“I’m sorry . . . damn it.” She hadn’t meant to say it again. “It’s just. I’m in a weird place right now. I want to.” She placed a hand on his arm. “You need to know I want to.”
“Melanie?” He placed a finger over her lips. “I get it.”
“You do?” she asked through his finger. How did he get it when she didn’t? It had been a long time since she so much as seriously flirted with the opposite sex.
“I do.” His hand dropped.
“So I can have a rain check?”
He was grinning again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Wyatt had no real need to go to the reunion. It wasn’t his graduating class and he hadn’t been coaching when the alumni had frequented the halls of River Bend High. Still, there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he was going to miss it.
That surprised him.
Flustering Melanie Bartlett and getting close enough to smell her innocence intrigued him more than he wanted. After walking away from the track the day before, he had cautioned himself. His original intentions were flighty. A little dalliance with a woman who was only visiting home. Yet when Miss Gina had told him she was going to stay on, he found himself slowing his pursuit down. No reason to rush if she wasn’t going anywhere. Since when had he wanted to hook up with someone local? One with a kid, no less.
Melanie blew off like a hesitant volcano sputtering smoke before the top exploded. She came with a suitcase full of baggage that included a kid. A cute kid, but a kid nonetheless. At least there wasn’t an ex in the picture.
Wyatt liked her.
His usual pursuits were attractive and available. Call him shallow, but he wasn’t one for romance. Truth was, he hadn’t dated in the real sense since he’d moved to River Bend. He’d flirted, and a few of the single women had that look in their eye that told him they were interested, but he wasn’t. He was building a life in River Bend, and screwing around with the half a dozen single, attractive, and age appropriate women wasn’t a part of that life. Not when the fallout could mean never-ending drama. Breaking up with the daughter of the bingo night emcee could remove job opportunities for months, if not years.
So why was Melanie different? And why was he breaking his own code? Was it a code, or just smart?
Didn’t matter, he told himself. He fastened the last button on his dress shirt and skipped the tie. Unlike his father, Wyatt wasn’t a tie kind of guy. He owned one, but it was probably holding a bundle of PVC pipes together on his truck.
The high school gym bumped with the sound of the DJ’s music from a decade past. The lights were dimmed, much like a high school dance. The difference was the temporary bar set up in the corner and the lack of grinding moves that the teens of today called dancing. People gathered in clusters. From the outside, it was easy to pick out who were alumni of the school and who were the bystanding significant others obligated to escort the River Bend graduates.
A tap on his shoulder brought his attention to Luke. “I was wondering if you’d show up,” Luke said over the music.
Wyatt shrugged. “Not a lot of nightlife in this town.”
“Nightlife? I don’t think that’s the reason you’re here.”