Page 7 of Lost and Found

“I don’t mind at all, sweetheart.”

Every time he calls me that, I swoon a little more. I’m starting to feel like a spoiled princess, and I can’t pretend I don’t like it. No one has ever doted on me like Wyatt has, and a girl could get used to this kind of treatment.

The afternoon passes in a tranquil haze, the two of us sharing stories from our pasts and laughing at each other’s jokes. Wyatt is the perfect companion, and his candid nature is a pleasant surprise. The way he talks about the mountains, the wildlife, and the shifting seasons paints a vivid picture of a life wrapped in nature’s embrace. It’s far removed from the activity of the city, but I find myself wanting to experience it with him.

I watch his face as he talks, taking in the way his scar tugs with his changing expressions, giving him an endearing ruggedness. Every time he catches me staring, those dark eyes twinkle with amusement.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

This must be the tenth time he’s caught me, but I feign innocence. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to unravel all my secrets,” he replies with a chuckle.

“Maybe I am.” I give him a seductive glance, but he just shakes his head and throws me another one of his charming smiles.

As the sun descends upon the mountain, Wyatt fixes dinner for us—a simple fare of grilled pork chops and roasted asparagus that tastes heavenly with just the right seasoning. We eat in comfortable silence as the world around us darkens with twilight hues and Bear sleeps quietly at my feet.

Later, when we’re tucked under heavy blankets on the couch as we watch an action flick, I feel desire stirring within me. I steal glances at him, watching how his scarred cheek stretches when he laughs or how his long, thick fingers wrap around his chilled beer bottle. I wonder again why he’d kissed me but not take it any farther. It’s difficult not to overthink things when you’re under the same roof with a sexy lumber-snack. The temptation to take control and show him what I want is overwhelming, but the thought of making a move on this dangerously attractive man leaves me hesitant.

Can I handle the consequences if things go too far?

4

WYATT

Ileft Seattle behind, allowing my old life to wither in the rearview mirror, and it didn’t take long for me to adapt to my new existence. Before my accident, I was a different person, an insufferable, arrogant prick who thought money and social status were everything. Until my fall from grace changed me in ways I couldn’t have imagined, and I no longer cared about being envied or photographed by the high-society crowd. I found solace in the simple pleasures of life—walks in the woods with my dog and tending to my secluded home.

I’ve grown accustomed to the isolation, using my scar and limp as excuses to avoid judgement from others. Then Molly came into my life, and everything changed again. Her presence brings a newfound addiction, one I never knew I craved. Though her ankle is much better and she can walk, I find myself missing the chance to sweep her off her feet like I did a few days ago. As much as I try to convince myself that I’m happy she’s recovering, all I want is to hold her in my arms.

I gesture toward a stool as she enters the kitchen, her calming existence filling the space. She moves gracefully across the room, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge before turning to face me with a hip cocked and her head tilted in challenge. My dick stirs at the sight of her sassiness, but I hold back, attempting to be a gentleman.

Molly is too beautiful, too perfect for me and my brokenness. I know she appreciated the rescue when she hurt herself, but it’s gratitude and circumstance that brought us together. She deserves someone better than a disfigured man with a bum knee. Despite my efforts to push it aside, insecurity still gnaws at me now that she’s here.

We sit in the kitchen. Molly talks while I cook. I’m drawn to her voice and enjoy learning more about her. Her stories of Seattle, her cheating fiancé, and why she came to this mountain retreat only make me admire her more. In a way, she understands what it’s like to go from being admired to pitied. And somehow, that makes me feel less alone and closer to her.

As I chop vegetables for dinner, Molly rambles on about her successful wedding planning business. Her tone oozes with pride and I appreciate her determination.

“I thought it would be a piece of cake, with my two fancy college degrees in hand. Boy, was I wrong.” She sips her water and watches me from her seat at the center island. I decline her offer to help with cooking, reveling in the satisfaction of preparing a meal for her. “I had no experience and no one was willing to give me a chance. Then I got lucky.”

“Someone hired you?”

“My best friend actually,” she confesses, leaning in closer as if sharing a secret. “She married the CEO of a huge shipping company and had an unlimited budget for the wedding. I think he was featured in Forbes once.”

Memories of my own past achievements flood my mind, but I keep them hidden beneath my poker face.

“The wedding was a hit and I had more clients than I could handle. Now, four years later, my business is thriving and I absolutely love it.” Her passion for her work makes my heart twist because I’ve never felt that way about mine. Then she tilts her head before asking a simple but loaded question. “So, what do you do?”

Panic sets in as I debate whether or not to reveal my wealth and success as the owner of a multi-million-dollar tech company. I don’t want things to change between us because of it, but the sexual tension is growing by the minute. Ever since that first kiss, images of her naked body pressed against mine while I fuck her hard linger in my brain.

I can’t risk telling her about my wealth, though. The thought of being used again makes my chest ache. What if she’s like my ex-fiancée and only wants me for my money? Alyssa appeared to love me until things got tough and my scar became too much for her to look at.

“Are you okay?” Molly’s soft voice breaks through my thoughts, bringing me back to the present.

I swallow hard and focus on cooking. “I’m fine,” I bluff, avoiding her gaze. “I used to go into the office, but working from home suits me better these days.” That part’s true, but guilt churns in my stomach for holding back.

To distract myself, I offer Molly a taste of the sauce I’ve made. As she blows on the spoonful of steaming liquid, I imagine those sensual lips wrapped around my thick cock. Her moan fuels my lust, but just as quickly as it comes, I push away any thought of us together. It’s impetuous. At the same time, I can’t deny it’s thrilling as tense energy fills the room, and electricity crackles between us.

She seductively licks her lips while keeping her gaze on mine, and something inside me snaps. All inhibitions disappear as I drop the spoon and capture Molly’s mouth in a desperate kiss. It’s raw and passionate and destroys any civilized thoughts of keeping my hands off her. The vulnerability and insecurities that have held me back vanish in that moment.

---