“What are you seeing?” Crazy-beautiful green-blue eyes stare back at me with an assurance that melts every single fear I’ve ever had. This is us, and it’s right, and nothing can stop me from loving this man. Not even Wyatt himself.
“You.” I barely recognize the sound of my own voice. I clear my throat and suck in a shaky breath. Wyatt doesn’t ask for explanation, he just slides my shirt up over my head and tosses it aside.
“A white farmhouse with a wraparound porch,” he says, his hands traveling over my shoulders and sliding the straps of my bra down with them. His eyes don’t meet mine, and his words don’t make sense, but I push through the lust-filled fog to try to understand it anyway. Without his eyes, I can’t make anything out.
“Eat-in kitchen, two-car garage, nice neighborhood.”
“Baby,” I say on a plea. My brows pull together despite the heat on my cheeks from the tips of his fingers tracing the top of the cup of my bra. It’s old and worn, but he’s concentrating on the damn thing like it’s made of gold.
He ignores me and goes about dragging his fingers down to the waistband of my yoga pants. They’re not sexy in the least. I haven’t changed since my nap was interrupted this afternoon. Very slowly, almost tortuously so, he slides his hands inside and back around to cup my ass and pull me flush against his body. The near foot height difference between us gifts me with Wyatt’s thick, hard shaft being pressed up against my belly from beneath the confines of his jeans. My fingers find their way to the fly of his jeans, where I have to work extra hard to undo the button before sliding the zipper open.
My plans are destroyed by Wyatt slowly, so fucking slowly, pulling my yoga pants and panties down toward my feet. My body is curvier than the last time we were together, with my clothes not fitting the same way, but he manages to strip me down just fine. His movements are precise, thoughtful. I kick the yoga pants away as he holds me at arm’s length. My insecurities spring up out of nowhere, and I hate the way I look all of a sudden. My body didn’t bounce back after Piper the way it had with Zander. There are stretch marks along my lower belly and on my inner thighs. My ass is wider, and my breasts aren’t nearly as perky as they used to be.
“Been waiting years to get you up here,” he says and unclasps my bra. I let it fall to the floor mindlessly and stare up at him in confusion.
“Wy,” I say lowly in something between a demand and a question.
When he finally meets my eyes, I busy myself by pulling his jeans down, needing something to distract me from the heaviness in the room. Next I discard his boxers but can’t bring myself to break our eye contact long enough to catch sight of his exposed cock. Instead I place one hand on his hip to steady myself and fist him with the other, slowly pumping him. He gulps. A shudder runs through him as he continues to stare at me as if he’s trying to will me to understand.
“You wanted a farmhouse, baby. It’s yours,” he says without a hint of apprehension in his voice. A moan escapes him, his neck muscles flexing, before he can continue. “Promised our boy forever here. I fucking meant it.”
“You bought us a farmhouse?” My hand stills as my eyes fill with tears. I take a deep breath and focus on not letting the tears fall. This isn’t the man I left nearly three years ago. This is who Wyatt was before the drugs destroyed him.
“Fuck no, baby.” His hands find their way to my face. He holds my gaze on him, his voice so low and soft that it gives me butterflies. “I built you a farmhouse. Bought the land and built this place for when you came back to me. Knew it’d happen eventually.”
“You,” I say, unable to finish my sentence. I’m assaulted by the memory of finding Wyatt on the porch, out of his mind, and mumbling the same thing over and over again. I thought you’d come back to me. And at the time it made enough sense, but now it means so much more. He built this place for us—for our family.
“I spent every day I could working on it. Had some help, but told myself I had to earn you back. I was clean for five solid years before fucking up the night before you found me here. Last time I’d used was the day I started work on this place.” I open my mouth to say something, anything, but he doesn’t let me. He places his thumb over my lips and shakes his head. “Been waiting a long time to tell you this shit, so gimme some time to get it out, will ya?”
I nod my head.
“I was coming for you, whether Z was mine or not. Wanted to make sure shit was secure with the club first, but the second we took out Mancuso, I was coming for my family. You gotta know that once shit got clear, I didn’t care if Z was mine. He’s yours, and that means he’s mine, but fuck if I ain’t happy to see myself in that kid. Never knew anyone who looked like me before. You gave me that. Twice. Every ounce and every breath, baby.”