22. WYATT

22

WYATT

"Well, well, well, look who the cat drug in. Did you and your little bird have a nice night?" Colt starts in on Wren and me before we've made it one step into the kitchen.

"We did," Wren answers with a gleeful smile. "Wyatt gave me five orgasms," she whisper-shouts, making Colt choke on his sandwich. I kiss the top of her head, laughing.

"I think it was more like six." We had sex one more time before we fell asleep and then I woke her up at some point in the middle of the night to do it a third time. I couldn't keep my hands off of her.

Wren uninhibited is a world wonder. Her begging for me and the feeling of being inside her was too much. I had to keep a slow pace so I wouldn't climax before I even had a chance to enjoy being inside her. That's never happened to me before.

We headed home when our stomachs started growling too much to be ignored any longer. The paths were still slick and muddy from the rain. We made it back a little dirty, but in one piece .

She starts counting her fingers. "I think you're right. It was six. Four and five kind of blend together since you did that thing with your tongue," Wren says, passing me the mayo and mustard from the fridge as if this is an ordinary conversation.

"This is too much information," Colt grumbles.

"Why so bitter? Lenny's teacher still not paying you enough attention?" I pass Wren four pieces of bread. She spreads mayo and mustard on them, then slides the plates over to me. I add the meat and cheese. Then she adds lettuce to her sandwich and tomato to mine.

We work in sync cleaning everything up and putting it away. She takes both plates to the table while I grab our drinks.

Colt stares at us dumbfounded. "How long have the two of you been together again?"

"A few months," I answer.

At the same time Wren says, "We're not together."

"What I mean is we've been friends for a few months. But Wren's right. We're not together." Why is that difficult to admit? We went over this last night and decided to be friends with benefits. And boy are there benefits.

"Right. I'm going to go join Dad and Ford in the barn. His picker friends are here. I want to see if he's going to win the bet."

"What bet?" Wren asks.

"Dad bet he could make a grand off all that scrap metal in the barn. If he wins, he gets to take his woman out in the Gator," I explain.

"And now you know what happens when a Rivers man takes his girl out on the Gator." Colt winks. "Are you going to do any work today or are you taking the day off?"

"I'm working. What do we need to do?"

"Ask the boss." Colt nods to Wren.

"I'm not the boss, Colt." She rolls her eyes. "Willow mentioned something yesterday about moving some of the seedlings from the greenhouse to the fields on the east side."

"That's outside," I tease Wren.

"I can handle it."

"There will be dirt and bugs. You'll probably sweat."

"I'm becoming a fan of the dirt," she says, biting her lip and eyeing my dirty T-shirt. We're both in desperate need of a shower after spending the night in the barn.

"Y'all flirt weird," Colt says, before walking out the door. He's not the first person to say that.

Wren shakes her head at Colt and goes back to eating her sandwich. "Were you flirting with me? Trying to turn me on about getting dirty?"

She ignores my questioning and eats the last bite of her sandwich. "If I was flirting with you, you wouldn't have to ask me." She takes our plates to the sink, rinsing them, and placing them in the dishwasher. "You would know."

I push away from the table and lean back in my chair. "I would, huh?"

"Yep." She crosses her arms over her chest.

"Give me an example. "

"That's the thing. I'm not really a flirty person. I prefer the direct approach." She says this as if it's a bad thing.

"Give me an example."

Wren walks up to me and stands between my legs. I slide my hands up her thighs just under the hem of her shorts. I can't get enough of her wearing these damn things. She traces a finger up the veins in my arms.

"I'm going to go take a shower. I want you to join me." She starts to back away, but I pull her against me. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

I want to tell her that I like her direct. I like her mean. I like her bossy. I just like her. Plain and simple. She isn't ready to hear all of this because for some reason she has it in her head that she is too much. That she's cold and unlovable.

Which is odd because I find her to be the exact opposite of everything she thinks of herself.

Instead I say, "First one naked is the first one to orgasm." I slap her ass. She yelps then takes off upstairs.

"We made good progress today." Ford takes a sip of his beer.

We're all sitting out back around the fire pit roasting marshmallows and making s'mores. Mason has his guitar out and is picking at the strings .

"I won my bet," Dad says, holding up his beer.

Wren giggles beside me. "He's never going to stop talking about that is he?"

"Probably not." I pull my marshmallow from the fire and scrape it off the stick between two graham crackers. I take a bite and hot marshmallow strings all over my mouth.

"You're a mess." Wren swipes her thumb across my lips.

She's mentioned more than once that some people find her attention to detail frustrating to deal with. They clearly haven't had her full attention on them. When I'm the one she is fixated on, I feel like a king. "It's all over your mustache too. Another reason to shave it off." She licks the sticky, white residue off her thumb.

"You weren't complaining about my mustache in the shower earlier. In fact, I'm pretty sure you said it felt good against your—" She slaps a hand over my mouth.

"You've made your point," she says, cutting me off. I grin at her.

"When are you going to hire more help?" Colt asks Ford, grabbing my attention. I know we need more hands on deck, but labor isn't free. Especially if it's something more permanent.

"I don't know. We may have to do without it this time." Ford takes a long sip of his beer. This is taking a toll on him. His brow is wrinkled with worry.

"You should check with the high school. See if there are any kids looking for volunteer hours. They can help with parking, crowd control, and the petting zoo area. The rest of you can handle ticket and product sales."

"That's a great idea, Wren," Mom says, beaming at my girl. "I'll get in touch with Donna tomorrow." Donna is the principal at the local high school.

I put my arm around Wren and kiss her on the side of her face.

Ford, Mason, and Colt discuss more logistics of the spring and summer harvest. I want to give my opinion and offer help, but it doesn't matter since I won't be here. I'll be living miles away or on the road in some hotel.

Wren squeezes my thigh as if she knows what I'm thinking. But that's impossible. There's no way this woman knows me well enough to read my mind.

But the way she is looking at me and urging me to say something to my family, proves she does know me. Maybe even better than I know myself.

"Take a walk with me?" I ask close to her ear. She nods. "We'll be back."

"Sure you will," Ford says. Giving me a knowing look. He's right. We probably won't be back.

I take Wren's hand in mine and walk her down the path that leads to the horse pasture. They are all in the barn for the night, but it's one of the safest paths to walk in the dark.

"You need to tell them." Wren rests her head on my shoulder.

"Tell them what exactly? "

She stops walking abruptly, yanking my arm back. "That you don't want to play. That you want to stay here and be a part of everything. You sat there and let them shut you out."

"It doesn't matter. I have to play. They're doing the right thing. They should be making plans without me." I kick a piece of gravel.

"You don't have to play. The debt isn't from baseball. It was a slow accumulation over the last forty years. Your daddy took over this place in debt from bad business decisions and back taxes. Add in college tuitions and hospital bills and it all stacked up. It wasn't you."

I shake my head. "It doesn't matter. It was a sacrifice either way getting me to all my practices and buying me new cleats and bats. Paying for uniforms and private coaching. You may not have found it in the paperwork but it's there. Regardless of where the debt stems from, we still need the money. I've got to pay them back."

Is it nice to know it wasn't entirely my fault that we're close to losing the place? Yes, it eases a little bit of guilt. It doesn't however change anything.

"So do it here." Wren runs her hands up my chest. "Pay them back by being here. You don't think working the fields and being a part of everything will be paying them back? You don't think they would prefer to have you with them? They want you happy, Wyatt."

"I can't risk it being enough."

"You act like you've already signed a contract in the majors. It's not guaranteed either."

I slide my hands down to her ass. "It is. I'm good, birdie. You've seen the way I play." I grin at her. Her cheeks blush. Fucking adorable . "I'm predicted to be drafted in the first round. San Diego needs a left-handed pitcher."

"San Diego!" Wren steps out of my reach and turns her back to me.

"It's not set but that's who keeps coming to look at me."

"It's far from home," she says quietly. It's far from me is what she means. The unsaid words squeeze my heart.

"It is but nothing a plane can't fix." I move to stand in front of her. "I'll fly to you. Every chance I get. I'll come to Atlanta and visit. You think your husband would be okay with that?" I ask. Wren flinches.

"Don't."

"Don't what? Talk about your future? It's okay to discuss mine but we can't talk about what you're going to be doing? How is that fair? Your choice will have a bigger effect on us than mine will, I promise you that."

She turns on her heel and begins walking at a fast clip down the dirt path.

"Birdie!" I yell and start chasing after her. I grab her wrist and pull her toward me. "Don't run away from me. We were talkin'."

"You're the one who's running off to California. Could you pick a place further away? At least I'll be here," she says, stomping a foot.

I grip the back of her neck. Not hard, but firm enough to get her attention. "You think that makes any of this easier?" She'll be here in the arms of another man. I'd rather take my chances in California than have to be witness to that.

"Then stay! Believe in your family and what they're doing. Believe in me." Wren grasps at my sides hard enough to leave a mark.

"I do believe in you. I told you—"

"You told me my ideas impressed you. That I'm smart and good at what I do. But you don't believe in me. If you did, you wouldn't still be thinking about baseball. You would take the same chance with the rest of us."

"The rest of us? You say it like you're sticking around. Are you? I keep hearing you say ‘we' and ‘us' like you're going to be here this summer. We both know you won't." I squeeze the back of her neck. "Are we going to talk about your future now?"

"Maybe that's it," she says. "I wish I had the option to be here. I wish I could choose this." Her eyes close and a single tear drips down her cheek. I wipe it away with my thumb. "You can stay and you won't do it."

There is a lot to unpack in that statement. She wants to choose this. To choose me. Is that what she's saying? Instead I focus on me and the choice I need to make for myself.

"You really think it will work?"

"I know it will."

I pull her into my arms. "I believe in you, birdie. I'm your number one fan." I dip my head into her neck and she wraps her arms around my middle. "Will you show me everything tomorrow? Then I'll decide. But don't doubt for a second that I don't believe in you."

"I believe in you too. And your family. This place. It's something special."

Is it foolish of me to think that if I stay, maybe she will too? That maybe I can get her to believe in us one day as much as she believes in this farm and my family?