“Here, baby, you sit while I make us something. You okay with eggs or no?”
“Ha ha, funny man. I said raw eggs in a shake are gross. I like cooked just fine.”
His movements are precise and economical as he goes around mixing eggs, frying bacon, and making toast, all while preparing me a cup of tea to nurse while I wait.
I start to ask questions but he shushes me on the premise that we eat first and talk after.
I oblige and dig into the food, shocked that I’m starving and enjoying my breakfast when I haven’t allowed myself a meal like this in so long. I was never really into big breakfasts, but I admit, the granola was nasty.
“Okay, seeing as you’ve eaten more than half, you can start asking. I promise to answer as much I can, but if I don’t, you move on. No nagging or tantrums.”
“Fine. First, you watched me for months. My question is why, and for how long? And no, I won’t believe some cock-and-bull tale about you seeing me in the diner and having a love-at-first-sight epiphany. That stuff is not real, so make this believable, at least. Please.”
Wyatt, the bastard, smirks at me and shakes his head.
“You’re full of shit, you know that? You’re so closed off and innocent one minute, and then the next you’re busting my chops. Such a contradiction. Lucky for us both, I like it.”
His tone goes all soft and low and he gives me a slow perusal that sets my junk to tingling in a strange way that is both thrilling and discomforting.
“Stop that and spill it!”
“Jesus, you’re ornery. Fine. The first time I saw you I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. No, don’t roll your eyes, baby, it’s true. You’re gorgeous and I got hard just thinking of your lips on my…well, I wanted you. So I had you investigated, and when it all came back I just wanted you more.”
“The broken girl? You a fixer, Wyatt, is that it? You think you can fix me?” I sneer.
Pity? He pities the poor Ellie he saw in some photo?
My anger blasts out of nowhere and I’m yelling by the last word. No one can fix me. No one. What the maniac did to me is irreparable and I know it.
“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to fix you, Ellie, I just want you to stop pretending you don’t exist, baby. That’s all, because I see you. I see all that light you’re trying to snuff out and I won’t let that happen.”
“What are you planning to do with me?”
That smile of his gets way more suggestive and I roll my eyes sarcastically and purse my lips. He just laughs and shakes his head.
“Baby, I told you. I’m keeping you. I’m going to marry you and put my babies in you. That’s the long and short of it. You can believe me, not believe me, whatever. It won’t make one bit of difference because the end result will be the same. Get that settled in your head and get over whatever hang-ups you have with your past. I’m not here to hurt you or mess with you. I just want you. Forever.”
Stop, just stop that freaking bus and let me off to stretch my legs already! Is this guy serious?
“You are nuts. Who decides they want to marry a stranger?” I yell, coming out of my seat with a screech that makes me cringe. “You took me the night before last and—”
“But I was watching you long before that, Ellie. I already told you that. And I know everything there is to know, so you’re not a stranger to me at all, baby.”
“I just met you! And our start wasn’t exactly normal.”
“Whose fault is that?!”
Now he’s yelling and towering over me. I should be intimidated by his nearness. Instead, I catch his scent and breathe it in, hating myself for wondering what it would be like to have that smell on my skin.
“Stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking, Eloise. I don’t like that look you’re giving me.”
Tough.
I don’t say it out loud, but in my head I feel victoriously defiant.
And then it strikes me—a way to prove…something.
“What’s your mother’s name and number?”
The fool pauses and then grins so wide I see his wisdom teeth, if it’s possible for an idiot to have such things.
“Oh, Ellie, baby, you sure you wanna open that can of worms? Once Judith Lane gets her hooks into you, there’s nowhere to run, girl.”
Why is this so funny to him? I expected some backpedaling, an excuse, an outright no, at least. Instead, he’s laughing himself to tears and looking at me like I just sprouted three heads.
“You want me to feel safer about this lunacy? You give me her number and let me talk,” I snarl, almost swallowing my tongue when he hands me the phone and rattles off the number.