Loved by Him (Wanted Series #6) Read online

  I liked how he looked at me now, like I was this strong, unbreakable woman who he couldn’t figure out and couldn’t walk away from. It was empowering for such a capable man to see me that way.

  But there was one thing I could think of that would be worse than telling him the truth, and that would be if he found out on his own.

  The thought alone was enough to put a pit in my stomach.

  I couldn’t let it happen. I had to tell him the truth on my own terms, and I had to do it tonight.

  Because while I didn’t think I deserved to enjoy someone’s company so much, I knew I was falling for him. In fact, I suspected I was much farther gone than I even realized, but I had no point of comparison.

  It wasn’t like I could say, well, last time I fell in love it felt like this or that and this feeling is similar but different.

  I didn’t have a fucking clue.

  All I knew was that when I met Wyatt, it was like I’d found something I didn’t realize I was looking for.

  And if I was going to lose it- if I was going to lose him- I knew in my aching guts I had to do it sooner rather than later because it wasn’t just a matter of me getting hurt. There were other people involved, one of which never asked to be dragged into this adult relationship in the first place.

  So I had no choice. I had to tell him who I really was and deal with the consequences no matter what they were.

  I pursed my lips in the mirror and wiped a bit of rogue gloss from under my bottom lip.

  A moment later, my phone lit up on the bathroom counter.

  “Hi,” I said, my joviality sounding a bit more forced than I intended.

  “Hey,” Wyatt said. “We’re downstairs.”

  “Oh great,” I said, scrunching my nose and wondering if I should invite them up. “I’ll be right down.”

  “Take your time,” he said. “Our reservation’s for six thirty.”

  Good. There wasn’t time to invite them up anyway. “Give me one minute then.”

  I flicked the bathroom light off and went to the door, grabbing my purse and shawl in one hand and locking my door with the other.

  As I waited for the elevator to arrive, I took a deep breath and reminded myself that the night was going to be fun in a way that seemed so sad it almost had the opposite of the intended effect.

  When I reached the lobby, I expected to see Wyatt’s truck beside the curb, but it was nowhere to be found. However, when I stepped outside, a handsome, elderly man smiled at me and opened the back door of a shiny, black Escalade.

  I could see Wyatt inside.

  “Good evening, Miss,” the driver said as I walked up to him. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that you look absolutely gorgeous.”

  “Hey,” Wyatt said. “That’s my line.”

  “Thank you,” I said, looking into the man’s kind eyes.

  Wyatt leaned towards the open door. “Addison, this is Alfred. He’s the best driver in New York.”

  “Dare I say the East Coast,” he said, extending his hand.

  I took it. “Nice to meet you.”

  He shook my hand once and then held it while I stepped up into the tall car. Then he checked to make sure my legs were in and closed the door.

  I turned to Wyatt and raised my eyebrows. “You have a driver?”

  “For special occasions,” he said. “And you really do look stunning.”

  “Thanks,” I said, admiring his crisp shirt and the way his hair had been combed back. “So do you, actually.”

  He laughed. “You could pretend to be less surprised.”

  “I’m not,” I said. “I just-” I looked down at his black pants. He couldn’t have dressed better to match me if he’d tried. “It’s weird to not see you in jeans.”

  “I know!” Sophie said. “I thought that was all he had.”

  “Oh hello!” I said, turning around.

  Sophie was in the backseat wearing a little blue dress and a thin, sparkly headband.

  “You look absolutely gorgeous,” I said.

  She smiled and sat back in her seat. “Thanks. So do you.”

  “Where did you get that fabulous headband?” I asked, holding the back of my seat with my free hand.

  She touched her head like she forgot which one she was wearing. “I made it.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You didn’t!”

  “Well, not the actual headband,” she said. “But I put the blue glitter on it.”

  “I’m so impressed,” I said, feeling the car roll into motion.

  “My dad doesn’t like it.”

  “What?” I asked, letting my lips fall apart and looking at Wyatt in shock.

  “Cause it gets glitter everywhere,” Sophie explained.

  Wyatt shrugged. “It’s true.”

  I shook my head. “Well it goes perfectly with your dress,” I said. “And I can’t think of anything that isn’t improved by a little glitter.”

  Sophie sat up straighter and lifted her chin.

  Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you tell Addison about the restaurant you picked?”

  Sophie raised her little hands and started waving them around. “It was either Italian or French,” she said. “But I went with French because my dad does really good Italian all the time.”

  “Really?” I asked, looking at Wyatt. “I had no idea. You’ve been holding out on me.”

  Wyatt ran a hand over his head. “Forgive me for not bragging about my ability to cook boxed spaghetti.”

  “He does meatballs, too,” Sophie said. “The best meatballs.”

  I smiled.

  “Alfred!” Sophie yelled to the front of the car. “Doesn’t my dad do the best meatballs?”

  Alfred nodded in the rearview mirror. “Yes, he does.”

  “See?” Sophie asked.

  I cocked my head at Wyatt. “Everyone’s had your meatballs but me then?”

  “Maybe you could come over and have them sometime,” Sophie said. “If you want.”

  “Thanks,” I said as Wyatt rested a large hand on my knee. “I’d like that very much.”

  Chapter 7: Wyatt

  I could barely get a word in edgewise.

  Sophie was so keen to talk to Addison I already felt like the third wheel, and we hadn’t even ordered yet.

  Not that I minded. It was sweet to see how quickly she warmed to her. And Addison seemed to be getting along with her well enough. I just hoped she wasn’t totally overwhelmed already by my precious little motor mouth.

  “Did you tell Addison what you’re doing tonight after the play?” I asked, laying my napkin in my lap.

  Addison looked at Sophie and raised her eyebrows, which she seemed to be doing a lot, though I couldn’t tell if it was because she was genuinely hanging on Sophie’s every word or if it was because she couldn’t get a word in edgewise either.

  “I’m sleeping over at Grandma and Pop pop’s,” Sophie said, reaching for her water.

  I relished the moment of silence that passed while she drank.

  “Is that so?” Addison said, glancing at me.

  “Yep,” I said, hoping she was relieved to discover that there would in fact be some respite later. “Alfred’s going to drop her off so we can get a drink after the show.”

  Addison smiled. “Well, that’s sounds like fun for everyone. I’m sure your grandparents will be excited to have you.”

  Sophie nodded.

  “Have you guys been here before?” Addison asked, looking down at her menu.

  Sophie and I shook our heads.

  “No,” I said. “Sophie thought the menu seemed adventurous, though, so we thought it would be fun.”

  “They have cold soup!” she said, leaning forward.

  “Wow,” Addison said. “That’s crazy.”

  “I know,” Sophie said. “I’m not going to get it because I like warm soup, but you can if you want.”

  Suddenly, I heard a glass hit the floor on the opposite side of the room. A kid nearly Sophie’s age bur
st into tears a moment later and got dragged by the wrist to the bathroom.

  “Yikes,” Sophie said.

  “I swear I thought this was a nice place,” I said, lowering my voice.

  “It is, dad,” Sophie said. “But there’s a bad apple in every bunch.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Who taught you that?”

  “Grandma.”

  I rolled my eyes and sighed.

  The waiter came a moment later with a basket of bread. I let Addison order and then ordered for Sophie and me, requesting a bottle of wine when I was done.

  “So what do you do?” Sophie asked, turning toward Addison like she was Diane Sawyer.

  Addison smiled. “I’m a consultant.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, using her pointer finger to pull the bread basket towards her.

  “It’s somebody who helps other people do their job better.”

  Sophie furrowed her little brow. “Do you like it?”

  “Usually I do,” Addison said.

  Sophie rearranged the bread basket before finally picking a roll. “Why not today?”

  Addison sighed. “Cause it wasn’t a very good week for me at work.”

  “What happened?” Sophie asked.

  I leaned towards Addison and widened my eyes at Sophie. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to-”

  “It’s okay,” Addison said. “I just thought I was going to get a promotion, and I didn’t.”

  “What’s a promotion?” Sophie asked.

  “It means my boss was going to give me a better job and decided not to.”

  Sophie cocked her head. “Why?”

  I had half a mind to kick her under the table, but I wasn’t confident she’d even get the hint.

  Addison shrugged. “I don’t know. Just bad luck, I guess.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sophie said.

  “Me too,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “There’s not much to tell.”

  I parted my lips to speak-

  “Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise,” Sophie said.

  Addison raised her eyebrows again and looked at Sophie. “Do you think?”

  “Well, one time, at camp this summer, we put on a play-”

  “What play?” Addison asked.

  “The Wizard of Oz.”

  Addison pushed her shiny hair behind her shoulders. “Wow.”

  “And I wanted to be Dorothy because she gets to wear the best shoes.” Sophie paused and took a deep breath.

  Addison and I waited patiently on the edges of our seats while I prayed that Sophie’s story would go on to make some sort of relevant point.

  “But the counselor in charge said one of the older kids was going to be Dorothy and I had to be a munchkin.”

  Addison nodded, exhibiting a patience that was attractive on her, though I couldn’t help but wonder where the hell it was when she first met me.

  “But it was a blessing in disguise,” Sophie continued. “Because I made two new friends and one of them taught me how to suck helium out of balloons so we could talk like real munchkins.”

  I cocked my head. “You didn’t tell me that, honey.”

  Sophie shrugged. “I thought you would be mad. I thought you’d do that thing where you lower your voice and say stuff like-” She crossed her arms high in front of her. “I didn’t send you to camp to suck helium from balloons.”

  Addison laughed at Sophie’s impression but stopped when I shot her a look.

  I raised my eyebrows. “That’s probably exactly what I would’ve said.”

  “Anyway.” Sophie turned back to Addison. “Maybe something even better will happen and you only think you wanted to be Dorothy because you didn’t know about this other good thing that’s just around the corner.”

  Addison smiled, her eyes softening. “I hope so.”

  “Isn’t that what happened to you, dad?”

  I furrowed my brow. “What?”

  Sophie grabbed her small purse off the back of her chair. “Didn’t you not sell a song and then you did?”

  Addison turned to me. “Did you sell a song?”

  “I did,” I said, feeling mortified by Sophie’s timing. “But, Sophie, it’s not nice to brag about someone’s good news right after someone tells you something disappointin-”

  “It’s okay,” Addison said. “Really.”

  Sophie pulled her small syringe out of her purse and looked down at her lap, her hands following a second later.

  I knew what she was doing. I’d seen her do it a thousand times. In fact, by now I took it for granted that my nine year old could manage her blood sugar levels better than I could.

  But it was obvious from Addison’s face that seeing my little girl give herself a shot at the dinner table was something she didn’t expect.

  “Excuse me,” Sophie said, glancing at Addison out of the corner of her eyes. “Normally I would go to the bathroom, but I don’t want to miss anything.”

  I smiled.

  Addison looked at me, obviously impressed.

  Sophie put her syringe away and hung her purse back on her chair. “I’m starving.”

  “I guess you’re not afraid of needles, then?” Addison asked.

  Sophie shook her head. “I’m only afraid of two things.”

  I craned my neck forward “What are you afraid of, honey?”

  Sophie swallowed. “I’m afraid of something happening to you, Dad.”

  Addison’s eyes grew wide as my chest tightened.

  “And I’m afraid of Pop pop’s shed.”

  Addison furrowed her brow and looked back and forth between us.

  “First of all,” I said. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything happening to me. I’m very careful and I’m not going anywhere-”

  “But what about freak accidents?” she asked. “Gigi said sometimes bad things happen to good people for no reason at all and there’s nothing they can do to stop it.”

  Damn it. I really needed to talk to Austin about the shit his little girl had been spewing lately.

  “That’s true,” Addison said, taking an entirely different approach than I was about to. “Sometimes bad things do happen to good people, but being afraid isn’t the way to deal with it.”

  “What else can I do?” Sophie asked, her eyes like big blue marbles.

  “Well,” Addison said. “You have to have faith that nothing bad is going to happen.”

  Sophie scrunched her face. “Faith?”

  Addison took a deep breath. “It’s like confidence. Do you know what that is?”

  Sophie nodded. “Yeah. But what about Pop pop’s shed?”

  “Stay out of there,” I said, raising a finger towards her. “It’s full of heavy tools and sharp stuff and the kind of things that make good people have bad accidents.”

  Sophie pursed her lips.

  “Wait,” Addison said, placing her hand on the table between us and leaning towards me. “Let me get this straight. It sounds like, as long as you stay out of your dad’s shed, you’ll be safe and Sophie has no reason to be afraid.”

  My chest loosened again. “That is exactly what I was trying to say. That’s why there’s no reason to be afraid, Soph.”

  She squinted back and forth between me and Addison. “Really?”

  We both nodded in unison.

  Sophie let out a large sigh, her shoulders dropping. “So I have nothing to be afraid of?”

  “Nothing,” Addison said, putting her hand on Sophie’s shoulder.

  And when I saw the relieved expression on Sophie’s face when her eyes traveled up Addison’s arm to her kind smile, I felt a lump in my throat I hoped would never go away.

  Chapter 8: Addison

  Sophie rolled the window down and waved at us until she and Alfred turned the corner. I had no doubt Alfred was about to hear more about the show than he ever wanted. That is, if she ever stopped singing Hakuna Matata.

  When I turned back towards Wyatt, he was st
aring at me, and the people rushing by him on the sidewalk went blurry when I noticed the twinkle in his eye.

  “You were incredible,” he said.

  I furrowed my brow. “What?”

  He slid his hands around my waist and pulled me close. “I can’t thank you enough for tonight.”

  I laid a palm on his chest and looked at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, smiling. “There’s still plenty of time for that.”

  I rolled my eyes and relaxed into his arms. “Well, thank you for dinner and the show. It was as epic as you said it would be.”

  Suddenly a shouting stranger interrupted our moment. “Why don’t you kiss her already?!”

  We turned towards the sound. It had come from a party bus that was stuck in traffic a few lanes away. A moment later, the whole bus was pumping their fists towards us and chanting “Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!”

  Wyatt looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “I guess the show must go on.”

  I shrugged. “Apparently.”

  And with that, he dipped me back and planted a kiss on me that was so enthusiastic and intoxicating I could barely keep one foot on the ground.

  But the best part was that I didn’t even feel a moment of panic when he bent me back, even though there was nothing to hold onto but him. It was like my whole body knew he wouldn’t drop me.

  And when he set me back upright and my formerly free flying foot grounded itself again, the people on the party bus cheered and the driver honked as they took off towards the intersection ahead.

  I exhaled and pushed my hair back, flustered from the incident. I’d never been dipped before, and it was pleasantly overwhelming to discover that it was just as much fun as women in the movies always made it look.

  “I think I need a drink after that,” I said, confident my cheeks were bright red from the excitement.

  “Well that’s good news,” he said, pointing his thumb behind him. “Because supposedly this place does the best cocktails in the city.”

  I looked up at the building behind him and recognized it instantly. The Abbott Hotel was already lit up for the night, and four large flags shimmied gently in the wind above us.