SEVENTEEN
Wyatt leaned against the railing of the dock, waiting to help Kelsey down from the boat and watching with warm amusement as she said her say good-bye to Johan. The kid was in full aw, shucks mode, his hair falling forward as he ducked his head and smiled at Kelsey’s murmured words.
Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest, a little surprised by his own reaction. When he’d been with Mia, he’d been ready to tear apart any guy who came near her like some junkyard dog protecting his territory. And she’d known that it was his weak spot. When she’d wanted him to take her further, push the punishment and the pain past where he thought safe for her, she’d taunted him with other men to draw that meanness out of him. He’d taken the bait more often than he’d care to admit.
But with Kelsey that feeling of possessiveness was different. When she’d mentioned that she’d help out with Carmichael, he’d had a surge of fuck no. He didn’t want her anywhere near that prick, but only because he felt the urge to shield her from any and all ugliness. She’d seen enough of that in her life already.
Otherwise, he felt this odd sense of calm trust in her. The way she looked at him when he commanded her made him feel like a giant, like as long as he was there, she wouldn’t really see any other guy around. That rush was something he’d never experienced before. And seeing her weave her spell around Johan, knowing that Kelsey was strong enough both to submit to Wyatt yet trust him to see her other side, had gotten him so turned on, he’d damn near impaled Kelsey when he’d finally gotten behind her.
And she hadn’t been putting on a show for his benefit or Johan’s. Her responses had been genuine, her kinky side blooming right there in front of him like a hothouse flower. No fear or hesitation. His sweet waitress was dirty in the best way possible.
Kelsey laid a hand on Johan’s forearm and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then she glanced down toward the dock, finding Wyatt’s gaze and sending him a smile that hit him right in the sternum. “Gonna help me down, Mr. Austin?”
He pushed off the railing and stepped forward, offering his hand. “I’m here to serve you, love.”
“Liar.”
He helped her down to the pier, and Johan went to work getting their bag unloaded. Wyatt curled her against his side and pressed a kiss to her temple. “We need to find our ride. This private charter was well worth it, but I think we only have a little over an hour to get to tonight’s cocktail party now.”
She leaned into him. “I probably should be nervous, but I feel like I’ve had a couple of shots of tequila.”
He chuckled. “You had a couple of shots of something.”
She poked his ribs, but then turned into him, pushing up on her toes and kissing him like they’d been lovers forever. Her blue eyes were soft when she pulled away. “Thank you for that.”
“For what, love?” he asked, sensing she wasn’t simply thanking him for the sex.
She moved her hair all to one side, gathering it over her shoulder. “For not treating me with kid gloves after everything we talked about. For pushing me anyhow.”
He touched her jaw. “I can’t seem to help myself with you. You break down my good sense.”
She smirked and grabbed his hand to tug him toward shore. “Good. I like when you lose a little bit of your polish.”
He laughed. “I’m not all that shiny, love.”
“Well, time to put your armor back on then because we have some client fishing to do.”
* * *
Kelsey adjusted the neckline of her strapless maxi dress, trying to make sure she was still in the classic sexy zone and not the trashy hooker one. The line was kind of blurred in her mind these days. “You sure this looks appropriate? There’s not much else I can do with the girls to hide them.”
Wyatt’s attention slid over to her as they made their way along the sandy path that led down to the beach, his gaze tracing along her throat and cleavage. “First of all, hiding them would be a crime against mankind, so I’m against anything that would do so. And second, you look beautiful. You have a glow to your skin like you’ve been lying in the sun. Or have recently had a screaming orgasm in the middle of the Caribbean.”
“That is good for a girl’s coloring,” she mused, squeezing his hand.
He dipped his head next to her ear as they approached the decked-out beach party. “Here we go. Lights. Camera. Ass-kissing.”
Kelsey pasted on a smile, but her stomach felt like marbles were rolling around inside her and knocking together. The party had commandeered a big portion of the beach, more than necessary based on the number of partygoers. Though Kelsey guessed if you owned the whole island, you could have as much space as you wanted. People were spread out in small groupings, the flames of tiki torches swaying and dancing around them in the salty breeze, mixing with the smells of roasted meat. Off to the far side there seemed to be a makeshift dance floor on a spot where the sand was harder packed. A three-man steel drum band was playing a beat that mixed in with the crashing of the waves.
The whole setting was idyllic. Built for the carefree. Too bad she was about as far from carefree as she could be at the moment. And her date didn’t seem much better. The set of his jaw looked like he was preparing to go into a battle with no weapons.
“Where’s the keg?” Kelsey whispered as they slipped off their sandals and stepped into the silky sand, hoping humor would take the bite out of her nerves.
Wyatt hip checked her lightly, a playful tease, but his face remained stoic and smooth as a waiter approached with a tray. “Miss, can I offer you a refreshment? Champagne? Rum punch?”
She eyed the bubbly and fruity-looking drinks, the ghost of her old self automatically calculating how many of those it would take to get a buzz. She pushed back the thought, disgusted her mind still went there. “Do you have anything non-alcoholic?”
“We have fresh-pressed mango-pineapple juice at the bar. Would you care for that?”
“We’ll take two of those,” Wyatt said evenly.
“Right away, sir.” The waiter gave a little nod and strode off to get them their special order.
“You don’t have to abstain on my behalf. I’m used to being around alcohol,” Kelsey said, absently adjusting her top again. Apparently that was going to be her nervous tic tonight. “It doesn’t bother me if others drink.”
He stared out across the crowd as if scanning for the best point of attack. “I didn’t do it for that reason. I’m not a big drinker to begin with, but I like to stay sharp at something like this. Let other people get tipsy around me and start spilling their personal business, and I’ll be sober enough to remember it.”
She shook her head, smirking. “So you can use it against them?”
He looked down at her, that blue gaze a bit wounded. “So I can use it for them, love. I want to make them money, not swindle them.”
The waiter returned with their drinks, and both she and Wyatt ventured farther into the mix of people. Her heartbeat picked up speed as she took in the other guests and the snippets of conversation. If wealth had a sound it was this—lofty laughter, clinking glasses, claps on the back. She took a long sip of her drink, trying to still her shaking hands. She reminded herself that these were just people like the ones she chatted with every morning at the diner. And it wasn’t like she wasn’t around the filthy rich at The Ranch. But in that environment different rules applied. It didn’t matter who had the biggest bank account or fanciest pedigree—her domme status granted her instant respect.
Wyatt put a hand on the small of her back. “Let’s head closer to the water. I think I see an acquaint—”
“Wyatt Austin?” A very shrill, very southern voice came from their left, cutting off Wyatt. “As I live and breathe, is that you?”
Both Kelsey and Wyatt turned to find the owner of the outburst coming toward them with a halo of teased red hair. Her smile was so wide and her approach so urgent that Kelsey feared for a moment that the older woman was going to tackle Wyatt like a linebacker.
“Brace yourself,” Wyatt said under his breath, but he wore an amused smile as the hurricane of a woman got near. A younger ginger-headed guy hurried after her like an owner who’d realized his puppy had broken off the leash. “Hello, Mrs. Pritchard.”
The lady pulled up short in front of them, hands on her hips, her shrewd brown eyes taking in Wyatt from head to foot. “Well, my word. It is you. And look how good looking you turned out.” She turned and smacked the arm of the younger guy who’d followed her over. “See, son, I told you that was him.”
The guy, who looked to be in his thirties, gave her a bemused smile. “I know, I should never doubt you, Mother.” He stepped forward and shook Wyatt’s hand. “Good to see you, man.”
“Same here, Ferris. It’s been years.” Wyatt released the handshake and slipped a palm onto Kelsey’s back. “This is my girlfriend, Kelsey. Kelsey, this is Mrs. Regina Pritchard, a former neighbor of mine. And her son, Ferris. He was a few years behind me in school. I used to tutor him in math.”
Mrs. Pritchard gave her an enthusiastic hand squeeze and a beaming smile. “So nice to meet you, Kelsey. And what a pretty dress. I love that print.”
The tension in Kelsey eased as she returned the woman’s greeting. Mrs. Pritchard reminded her of a home ec teacher she’d had in middle school—a force of nature but a benign one. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Pritchard swept a hand, indicating her own bright purple dress and generous curves, then lowered her voice. “I had to give up the prints a long time ago. Ferris told me there really can be too much of a good thing. And I’m not going to go against the opinion of a gay fashion designer.”
Kelsey pressed her lips together, not sure how to react to that.
But Ferris didn’t miss a beat. He shook Kelsey’s hand. “And I’m the gay fashion designer. Nice to meet you.”
She laughed. “I’m the straight baker.”
And that felt good to say. Even though it was a vast expansion on the truth. This is what it would feel like to be proud of a job.
“Excellent,” he said, his warmth as genuine as his mother’s.
Wyatt cleared his throat, clearly searching for small talk, and eventually landed on what was comfortable for him—facts. “Mrs. Pritchard owns the Belle Bridal Boutique chain and the Belle of the Ball wedding planning service. She handles a lot of celebrity weddings.”
“Oh, wow,” Kelsey said, genuinely impressed. Even she knew those wedding boutiques were the best of best. And she could definitely picture the boisterous Mrs. Pritchard directing an army to put together an event. “What an exciting job that must be.”
She patted Kelsey’s arm and leaned forward as if telling her a secret. “To tell the truth, the celebrity ones exhaust me. Nothing like having paparazzi trampling all over the place like raccoons digging through the trash. I much prefer the more private affairs or smaller destination weddings.” She sent Wyatt a pointed look. “So when this one pops the question on you, you give me a call, sweetie, and I’ll give you a fairy tale.”
Kelsey nearly choked at the preposterous thought, though it didn’t stop the little girl thrill of thinking about a fairy-tale wedding from zipping through her. God, where had that come from? “Oh, we’re just dating, ma’am.”
Mrs. Pritchard looked between the two of them, her bright pink lips curling into a conspiratorial smile. “I’ve been doing this for a few decades. I can recognize the lasting couples from the temporary ones.”
Kelsey glanced at Wyatt, expecting to find that panicked look men get when anyone mentions marriage, but he looked more thoughtful than anything. Kelsey needed to think quick. She remembered Mrs. Pritchard being on the index cards. Surely a woman in charge of such a wedding empire could be a great potential client, especially when she seemed to have genuine warmth toward Wyatt. This was her chance to take some action and help.
She reached out a hand to Ferris. “Would you care to dance? I’d love to hear about your designs.”
“Sure.”
Wyatt did send her a panicked expression now, and she slid her gaze toward Mrs. Pritchard, hoping he got the message. He did. They had a brief, silent argument. She won. His polite smile reappeared. “Mrs. Pritchard, would you do me the same honor?”
The older woman pressed a hand to her chest like she was having a slight palpitation. “Of course. Who am I to turn down an offer from such a handsome gentleman? Though, Ferris may be jealous.” She leaned closer to Wyatt, but didn’t lower her voice. “He had such a schoolboy crush on you back then. I’ve never seen him study so hard.”
Ferris tilted his face toward the stars as if praying for patience. “I think my next design needs to be a customized muzzle.”
Kelsey bit her lip to hide her smile and Wyatt chuckled, unfazed by the revelation. “Hopefully, your taste has improved since then.”
Ferris gave Wyatt a good-natured smile. “I do try to avoid going after the straight guys these days. But hey, at least now I’m good at math.”
Mrs. Pritchard winked at her son, her pride and affection toward him obvious. “So, Wyatt, are you going to dance with a broad or what?”
“I’m all yours, ma’am.” Wyatt offered her his arm, the set of his shoulders softer than a few moments before. This woman was impossible to remain uptight around. “Maybe you can teach me a few moves.”
Kelsey watched them walk toward the dance area as she and Ferris trailed behind, and she barely resisted the urge to spin around in a victory dance. She didn’t know if Wyatt could keep up with Mrs. Pritchard on the dance floor, but she knew one thing for sure—she’d just helped him go the extra step to get a potential new client. Maybe she really could be useful for him here.
Kelsey danced with Ferris, who was just as charming as his mother, then circulated the party with Wyatt for another half hour. Wyatt hadn’t been kidding about his hatred for small talk, but she’d let him play the strong and silent type while she filled in the gaps. Luckily, when Wyatt did have something to say, people seemed to want to listen. He already had two meetings set up for when they got back to Texas. And that fact seemed to lift his mood considerably as the night pressed on.
Kelsey was pleased to know she was actually contributing as well. She’d even suffered through a dance with Wyatt’s rival, Tony Merrill, in order to give Wyatt a chance to chat with someone Tony had been monopolizing. She’d been skeptical that she could offer any value for Wyatt, but she should’ve never doubted herself. Wyatt wouldn’t have taken her along if he didn’t think she could help. He was nothing if not intensely practical. And it wasn’t like he needed to come up with some tropical vacation scheme to get her into his bed. When it came to him, she was an easy sale.
After another chat with one of the people on Wyatt’s list, Wyatt grabbed Kelsey’s free hand and brought it to his chest, dragging her against him. “Getting tired, love?”
“Maybe a little.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Go sit and relax. I’ll grab us something to eat.”
“Yes, sir,” she said low enough that no one else would hear.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Keep saying that, and I’ll make sure we retire to our room early.”
She returned his saucy smile and, after a quick kiss, he sauntered off toward the buffet table. She made her way to the edge of the crowd and sat on one of the deck chairs that had been spread around the perimeter of the party. She buried her toes in the sand and took a deep pull of the sea air. Ahh. It had definitely been a long day, but this sure beat hanging out in her little apartment with only the Food Network to keep her company. She drew patterns in the sand with her feet as she watched Wyatt stroll her way with a fresh drink and a plate of the biggest shrimp she’d ever seen. The flames of the tiki torches flickered over his dark features and smiling eyes, which were half-hidden by hair mussed from the steady ocean breeze. The sight of him stole her breath. She’d thought him beautiful in his buttoned-up suit and that always serious gaze he wore behind his glasses, but seeing him like this—relaxed and open—churned up something warm and achy inside her chest.
In that moment, she wished this were all real. That she was his. And he, hers.
She shoved the thought away and the twist of pain it caused. Rein it in, girl. There was old Kelsey latching onto impossible hopes again. You’d think she would’ve learned by now and trained that instinct out of herself.
Another man put his hand on Wyatt’s arm before he reached Kelsey, halting him and pulling him into conversation. Wyatt glanced over with an apologetic shrug, but she waved him off. She didn’t need him to babysit her. In fact, a little quiet people watching sounded like a nice break. Plus, she needed to get her game face back on so Wyatt didn’t catch her looking at him with hearts in her eyes.
But before she could even lean back in her chair to relax and take it all in, an unwelcome visitor settled herself in the chair next to her. “Is this seat taken?”
Kelsey’s teeth pressed against one another, and she didn’t even bother to look Gwen’s way. “It will be when Wyatt makes his way back over.”
Gwen sniffed. “I’ll be sure to hand over the seat if he needs it. But if Piedmont got a hold of him, he’ll probably be there for a while. That man likes the sound of his own voice.”
Seemed like Gwen had something in common with Piedmont. Kelsey downed the last sip of her juice and nestled the glass in the sand. Maybe if she didn’t respond to Gwen, she’d get bored and go the fuck away.
“Juice. Nice,” Gwen said, eyeing Kelsey’s empty glass. “Have a reason not to drink? Or just not old enough yet?”
Do not get in a fistfight at the fancy party. Do not get in a fistfight at the fancy party. “Baptist.”
“Sure you are.”
Kelsey looked at her finally, hoping her expression revealed how close she was to a throw down if Gwen didn’t shut the hell up. “You have a point to being here?”
“So you’re the Saturday night special now, huh?” she asked, primly sipping her own champagne. “I only thought I’d be friendly—you know, woman to woman—and warn you not to hang your hopes on him. I see how you look at him.”
Kelsey opened her mouth to deny it, but who was she kidding? “It’s not like that.”
“Right.” Gwen shook her head almost imperceptibly, a flash of pain tightening her features when she glanced in Wyatt’s direction. For the first time, Kelsey felt a dash of sympathy for the woman. “All I’m saying is Wyatt will only ever love one thing—his job. Nothing will take over that space. Not a woman. Not a family.” She pinned Kelsey with a cold look. “And certainly not a stripper with a record who’s lying bald-faced to him.”
Kelsey sucked in a breath.
Gwen’s features dripped with smug satisfaction. “Next time you try to sneak into some wealthy guy’s bed, do a better job of hiding your tracks and don’t leave incriminating evidence in a bag that you don’t keep with you.”
She tossed Kelsey’s passport onto her lap, and everything inside Kelsey went cold. This bitch had gone through her luggage?
“I can’t believe he didn’t run a background check on you and took you at your word. Apparently, blonde hair and big tits make him stupid.”
Kelsey almost punched her then. Her fingernails bit into her palm.
“What the fuck did you just say to her?” Wyatt growled.
Kelsey’s head jerked to the right, finding Wyatt standing a few feet away, his eyes on fire.
Gwen smiled, so pleased with herself. “Your little girlfriend is scamming you, Wyatt. You might want to check your credit card accounts to make sure she hasn’t already stolen your numbers. She’s no chef, she’s just a garden variety whore.”
Whore.
The word had been used so often around Kelsey. First directed at her mother, then at her. The single word could twist a blade right through her insides. Tears burned her throat, but hell if she was going to cry in front of this woman. No fucking way.
Wyatt charged forward, absently handing the drink and plate he’d been holding over to Kelsey. Gwen stood, leaving she and Wyatt toe to toe. His expression was a roar of rage, but his tone was pure ice water. “You know, the fact that you would stoop to digging through my girlfriend’s things and using your contacts to pull information about her is fucking pathetic, Gwen. And calling her a whore? That’s ripe considering you’re here with your married boss.”
“We’re not—” But her protest sounded weak even to Kelsey.
Wyatt smirked, his eyes cold behind his glasses. “Sure you’re not.”
“I’m trying to help you!” she said, her voice a whisper version of a shout. “She’s lying to you.”
“No, she’s not. I know exactly who she is. She’s the most beautiful and honest woman I’ve ever met.” He put out his hand to Kelsey. She set down the drink and food and took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. “And if you dare say a word to her again or to anyone else here about her, I’ll be sure your boss’s wife gets an email from a concerned friend.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t have any proof of anything.”
Wyatt smiled and wrapped an arm around Kelsey’s waist. If someone else looked their way, it could be mistaken for a pleasant conversation. “Gwen, you’re a smart woman. So don’t push me because you won’t win.”
She pressed her lips together until they disappeared into a thin white line.
“Come on, love. I have some other people I’d like you to meet,” Wyatt said through clenched teeth.
Kelsey had the urge to say something sharp, to defend herself against the earlier comments. But despite the woman’s hateful words and motives, Kelsey couldn’t help but hear the truth in her warning: I fell in love with him, and he walked away without a scratch.
He will never be yours.
This will never be real.