Page 11 of The One I Want
“Okay. Bye, Miss Betsy!”
“Bye, sweetheart!”
Magnolia bounces down the stairs while Wes stands up. Instead of turning to follow her, he faces me. Neither of us say anything for a few beats. He’s staring at me again, only this time I can actually feel it. It’s like his gaze is burning through my body. Men have made eye contact with me before, but it’s never hit like this.
And there’s no second guessing it this time. Hell, I’m staring at him, too. I just can’t seem to break away from his eyes. They struck me earlier from far away. But now, up close? I’m getting lost in them.
“I’m sorry.” he says, breaking the moment.
“Oh,” I say too quickly. “It’s no problem. She’s adorable. I’ll never say no to a visit from her.”
“Thanks. She seems to have taken a liking to you,” Wes says, his hands going back into his pockets. “But what I meant was that I’m sorry about earlier.”
“Oh?” I wasn’t expecting that.
“I was short with you. And it wasn’t against you. It’s just…it’s been a rough few weeks, and I had things on my mind. But that’s no excuse.”
“Thank you,” I say. “But really, don’t worry about it.”
Our eyes lock again as a wave of heat runs through me. Did it suddenly become a Southern summer in October? That’s the only logical reason as to why I suddenly feel overheated and overcome. It has nothing to do with how Wes is looking at me right now.
“Well then,” he says, breaking the silence. “I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”
“I’m sure you will.”
“Goodnight.”
He turns to walk away and does a double take. “Oh, hey there, Whitley. I didn’t see you there.”
Oh shit. Whitley’s still here. Forgot about that.
“Hi Wes. Goodnight, Wes.”
He nods his head toward her, and I stand in shock as I watch him walk away for the second time tonight.
“Ah, so that was it,” Whitley says.
I turn to look at her. “What is it?”
She laughs. “He was what had you spaced out earlier. I wondered which guy it was. And here it’s the guy you said not that long ago that you were going to stay far away from.”
I sit back down, picking up my wine glass. “I am,” I say with as much gusto as I can muster. “That was nothing. He was just apologizing for an awkward moment earlier. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“Mmmhmm,” Whitley says, rocking on the chair. “Because it didn’t seem like nothing to me.”
Chapter5
Wes
“The sweet sound of silence.”
I don’t even know why I said that out loud, because I don’t want to even hearmyselftalk. All I want to do is exactly what I’m about to do—toss down my bag, kick off my shoes, and lay down in this bed.
In silence.
I love my kids. I would die for them without a thought. Every day they make me more proud to be their dad than the day before.
But holy fuck are they loud. And exhausting.
