"Where's your case?" he asked.
"Shoot. I forgot." She walked to the door. "I'll be right back."
"Meet me by the Harley." He picked up his bag.
He watched her jog across the grass. If he thought Jess's shorts were too small, they had nothing on the ones Jess had on. He couldn't look away. Usually, she wore a short skirt but the change in weather had everyone suffering in the heat.
"Hey," he yelled, stopping her before she reached the apartment. "Put some jeans on."
She laughed loudly, shaking her head. "Not on your life."
In pure rebellion, she turned and wiggled her little, round ass at him. He growled under his breath and walked to his Harley, battling his cock pulsating to life. It was going to be a long, damn night.
Chapter 25Joey
Wyatt pulled to a stop in front of the apartment. Joey hugged his waist, not ready to let go of him. The night at Riverside Bar turned out differently than she'd planned. More people had joined, and the pool games were split into brackets with byes.
She'd stayed on the winners' side and lost the third, putting her at the top of the loser bracket, essentially coming in second place. The pot was split, and she'd only walked out with two-hundred and fifty dollars. Not a total disappointment, but she could've played better.
Tarkio MC had shown up, drawing Wyatt's attention, and ultimately distracting her because she wanted to be with him and the others. Pulled in two different directions, she'd messed up and missed easy shots that she normally would've sunk.
She leaned to get off the motorcycle, and Wyatt patted her leg. "Come around and sit in front of me."
"Aren't we going to go in before the kids get home?" She got off the bike and awkwardly climbed up in front of him.
He hooked her legs behind her knees and pulled her onto his lap and off the gas tank. "I've been thinking."
"Uh, oh." She cupped his face, taking in the seriousness set in his eyes. "Is something wrong?"
"Something right." He slid his hands under her ass. "The apartment is too small for us."
She relaxed. "You need your own bedroom."
"We need our own bedroom." He squeezed her butt.
She tilted her head, studying him. A sixth sense that he was talking about more than needing a real bed and the privacy of a bedroom door got her attention.
"What are you thinking?" she asked.
"I need to move."
"Away?" Her mouth dried, and she swallowed.
"Do you have any vacant three-bedroom apartments available?" he asked.
A pang of something—regret, disappointment, fear—hurt her heart. The thought of losing him in her daily life, losing the kids, her life would be empty.
"Move in with me," she blurted. "I have three bedrooms. There's enough space for everyone."
His chin lowered, and his shoulders heaved. She grasped his forearms, ready to keep him with her if he tried to leave.
She'd fallen in love with him.
Neither one of them had spoken about having anything long-term. They'd been seeing each other exclusively for almost six months. They shared dinner as a family at least four nights a week. She not only fell for Wyatt but also his kids.
Wyatt's head jerked up, and his eyes narrowed. He moved his hands to her face, wiping her cheeks with his thumbs. "You're crying."
She sniffed, blinking hard. There were a few times after her grandpa had died that she shed a bucketload of tears. But since meeting Wyatt, the sadness had gone away, and more happiness than she'd ever had filled her life.
His hesitation at not accepting her offer to have him and the kids move in with her felt a lot like he was slipping away from her.
"Ah, tiger..." He brought her forward and surrounded her with his arms, holding her close. "I build houses for a living. I've rented my whole life because it was never a good time to make myself a home. When I only had the kids every other weekend, I was waiting for...I don't know what. Maybe it never seemed right to move on with my life, settle down, have a home, and then have to say goodbye to my kids come Sunday night, knowing I wouldn't see them for a couple of weeks."
She closed her eyes, feeling his pain. He was such a good dad and the guilt of not having his children in his house every day, and every night was buried deep inside of him. Her heart pounded. How could she deny him his dream now that he was raising his kids on his own?
"Sh." She kissed his neck. "I understand."
"I'm not being fair to you." He rubbed her back. "If it was only me, I'd be in your bed, and my shit spread all around your apartment, but I can't do that to my kids."
She tried to push away the feelings that she wasn't enough, but the panic still built up inside of her. She wouldn't want him to put her first and the kids second. That wasn't who she was or how she believed. The way Wyatt loved his children and focused his life around them was part of the reason she fell in love with him.
"Let's not worry about it now. It's not like I'm moving out tomorrow. It takes time to build a house, and I’m obligated to other business contracts that need to come first. Besides, who the hell knows what's in the future," he said.
A car pulled into the parking lot. Wyatt's body shifted. She held on to him tighter.
"The kids are home." Wyatt kissed the top of her head.
Knowing she'd go to her apartment and he would go into his, she straightened. There was no sense in drawing out a bad situation. Wyatt had succeeded in warning her that he planned to move away. They weren't breaking up. But she knew deep in her heart, it wouldn't be the same.
Between her schedule and his, they'd be lucky to see each other a couple nights
