City of Champions (35 page)

She grabbed for the door handle, but before she could open it, she felt Wyatt's firm grip pull her back.

"What the hell was that about, Jenna? Don't you like my family?" he asked angrily from behind her. It made her feel sick that he thought her response was to his family, who'd been nothing but kind to her.

"No, of course not. It's not that," Jenna answered, turning her body to him but staring at her feet. She felt his calloused fingers stroke her chin and lift her face, so she was staring into his eyes, her teeth chattering lightly. "I just realized I need to go home. You should have some time with your family, and…"

Before Jenna could control herself, a lone tear slid down her cheek. Wyatt reached up his other hand, wiping the tear away with his thumb. His touch was so caring that Jenna wasn't sure if she could breathe without releasing the sob she was fighting hard to hold back.

"Hey. What's all this about, tough girl?" Wyatt removed one hand from her face so he could take her keys and slip them into his pocket. "Talk to me, belleza."

Wyatt took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders, then brought her into his arms.

"You know you never call me by name unless you're upset," she laughed out harshly against his chest.

"I
am
upset, and don't change the subject,
Jenna
," he said sternly, leaning back to look down at her face.

"I think I liked belleza better."

"Me, too," he said, with a soft smile. "Now, please, tell me." He leaned forward as he whispered against her cheek, dropping the lightest of kisses on her skin.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's not because I don't want to tell you. It's just that I'm…I'm not ready."

"It
is
something though, isn't it? Something that made you want to run from me?"

"Yes. I didn't want to leave you all. I think I panicked. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for so many things, Wyatt," she added, looking down again.

And she
was
sorry. Sorry Chase made her reluctant to trust Wyatt. Sorry her body may be a ticking time bomb of genetic brutality. Sorry she ever consulted on Wyatt's shoulder and delivered a diagnosis that could threaten his whole career.

"Then make it up to me and come inside. Remember Mama said she's going to make tamales. You don't want to miss that."

Jenna's stomach growled and he laughed, pulling her in to a tighter embrace. He turned them around so he was leaning his back against the side of her car and rested his chin on the top of her head.

Jenna kissed his neck and breathed him in before shivering slightly.

"You're still freezing, that settles it. I'm dragging you inside, but this conversation isn't over," he said, standing upright. Jenna looked up at him with embarrassment in her eyes.

"Wait, are you sure I'm invited? After the way I acted…" she asked softly, amazed by her own desire to just curl into his warmth and never leave.

"You're a smart and beautiful doctor that doesn't take my shit and loves kids…I think
I
wouldn't be welcomed back in if I
didn't
bring you with me," he teased, gently lifting her chin again and lowering his lips to hers for a brief moment before continuing. "They weren't offended or anything when you left. Just confused. I'll come up with an excuse."

"Okay, thank you. But before we go in…will you please kiss me again, for real?"

He smiled down at her with a broad, open grin that filled her cold body with warmth.

Wyatt took her face in both of his hands and leaned down to kiss her lips with a light, cautious touch. She could tell he wanted to be gentle with her, but she needed more. Jenna licked the seam of his lips, pushing through to touch the smooth terrain of his teeth.

Wyatt growled against her mouth and drew her more closely to him. He allowed her tongue entrance, quickly reaching into her mouth with his own, tasting her right back.

Jenna breathed him in and just gave into the feeling. She let her arms wrap around his waist, her body mold to his, and suddenly realized that all the unhappy thoughts in her head had simply…disappeared.

She knew it was impractical and all kinds of foolish to let herself be so open with this man. Yet, relaxing into him — being connected to him so fully — felt just too right, too complete. She refused to deny herself this moment.

What if the news is terrible next week? I don't want to regret missing this time with him…this chance to make more of my life, if only for a few more nights,
Jenna thought, as she let his tongue lazily explore her mouth and he swallowed every sigh she uttered.

Life was right here at her feet willing to give her something great. She so desperately wanted this chance with Wyatt, and needed to take it — because life was one cruel breath away from possibly taking so much from her.

He pulled away from her mouth and Jenna breathed out heavily, resting her head on his chest.

That sense of release, that openness she felt with Wyatt was inexplicable to her. There was no logical explanation for it. It was terrifying that this feeling could come to her from just one person.

If she were smart, she'd walk away now before they both got hurt. But Jenna was tired of being wise. She was sick of doing the right thing. All she wanted was to rest in this man's arms and just let everything go away.

It suddenly made sense to Jenna the way Tea looked at Griffen years after she'd been so devastated from losing Jack. Jenna had never seen happy devotion as an adult — she had only seen the loss after it was gone. The loss that lived in her father's eyes every day after her mother died. If there was any chance Wyatt felt that way about her, would her own illness, and all the risks it entailed, break him, too?

"You still with me, Doc?" Wyatt asked softly against her hair.

"Yeah," she choked out.

Whatever happened next, she would let herself have this rush in her veins, an intoxicating sensation of being tethered to him, yet still feeling free, all at once.

"Does that mean you're ready to go inside with me?"

"Yeah, maybe another kiss, first?" she whispered.

"Good idea." And then he stole her senses again, caressing her lips with his own. With each stroke of his tongue in her mouth and his fingers through her hair, he wiped those bad thoughts away, yet again.

When he finally leaned back from her, she felt bereft. Her desire for more must have shown on her face because Wyatt chuckled deeply in response.

"I should get you inside and to my family before they think I ran away to Vegas with you."

She looked up quickly, his words shocking her back to reality.

"What?"

"Relax, Doc. Come on," he said, with a chuckle, stepping aside and holding out his hand to her.

She looked at his tanned skin, fingers curled in toward the most welcoming of invitations, and Jenna had no desire to resist it. Instead, she simply slid her hand into his and let him take over the moment, pulling her close to his side and leading her back into the warm security of his home — and his life.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Wyatt pushed through the door to his home. He swallowed his concern at not seeing Jenna right away, and called out into the emptiness, "Doc, I'm back."

He'd rushed straight home to her from the stadium after his post-game shower. It had been the last game of the season. As with every one since Jenna had consulted on his shoulder, he'd played better than any other time he could remember. Her observations about his playing were beneficial to him, but it was also the hope that she'd watch and be impressed that pushed him even harder.

Wyatt threw down his bag before venturing further into the house. It might raise some eyebrows that he hadn't stuck around to talk to the press after the game, but Wyatt had been worried about Jenna ever since she'd run off the night his family made their surprise visit. A small part of him wasn't even sure if he could trust that she'd really waited for him.

He braced himself for disappointment as he wandered towards the kitchen. But there she was, in cotton shorts and a thin top. She had earbuds in and was cleaning his counters, singing something to herself, so off-key he couldn't recognize it. The sight was surreal and cute, making him laugh out loud.

"Shit!" Jenna jumped up in shock and dropped her rag. She turned to him, removing her earbuds. "Dammit, McCoy. You scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry, Doc."

"It's okay, I just didn't expect you home so soon."

She crossed the room to him and wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a quick kiss. When she squeezed him to her a bit too eagerly, Wyatt couldn't hide his wince from the pain emanating off his right shoulder.

"Oh, shoot, I'm sorry. Let me ice your shoulder down. How are you feeling?
You took another brutal hit in the third quarter."

"I'm fine, but I'll let you worry about me if it makes you feel better."

She rolled her eyes at him before gathering an ice pack and compression wrap. He could tell she was making herself at home and he liked it. It felt nice having her waiting for him after he returned from another tough game.

"Sit down on this chair," she instructed.

"Doctor's orders?"

"Yes, not that it ever mattered to you before," she teased, nudging him down into the chair playfully. "Here, what if I do my exam sitting on your lap. Will that make you behave?"

"Now why didn't you take that approach to begin with? I might've been much more cooperative."

"I doubt anything would've had that effect on you." She perched on his lap carefully and
covered his right shoulder with the ice pack and began securing it to him with the wrap.
"I swear, if they don't pick up a quality offensive tackle in free agency, your shoulder will be the last thing I worry about," she said sternly, before pinning the wrap down.

Her touch was amazing. It could make him hot and crazy, but in moments like this she filled him with a sense of calm, almost as though he were being cherished.

"Did you see the trainer after the game?" she asked, leaning back on his lap to look at him.

"No."

"Wyatt, you have to be committed to the process in every way if you want them to believe you're serious. You know that includes your own health, too."

"I
was
serious — seriously ready to get home to you."

She paused and gaped at him, before a blush streaked across her cheeks.

"Come here," he said, more gruffly than he intended, quickly smiling and wrapping his left arm around her, pulling her to him. He kissed her slowly. When he felt her sigh in his mouth he released her, thrilled to see how hazy her eyes had become.

"I missed you, too, Wyatt. If that's what you were wondering," she said lightly.

Wyatt laughed and brushed some of her soft hair behind her ear awkwardly with his left hand.

"You played great."

"Thanks. I wish you had let me get you that ticket, though. You could've been there cheering me on."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. But you know that wouldn't have looked right, you pulling strings for me. Even though my consultation is long over, I can't take any risks with my possible fellowship. I'm so sorry."

Wyatt's stomach flipped over at her words. He was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he cared for her, a lot. The idea of jeopardizing her career for his own was becoming more unpalatable to him by the day. Even if it was for the benefit of his family's security, Wyatt was beginning to feel like he needed to let the whole plan go and face his chances with the team as they stood now.

"Have the coach or GM talked to you about your contract? This winning streak is great for your chances of sticking around."

"Maybe, but the season's over. We needed Baltimore to lose to make the play-offs."

"I know. They won just minutes after you guys. Assholes," she laughed.

"I don't want to talk about Baltimore, or the trainers, or even about football. I want to talk about you."

"What about me?" she whispered. Her voice sounded nervous and she looked down so her shiny blonde hair created a shimmery veil between them.

"Hey," he said softly, moving his left arm from her waist, so he could tilt her chin up with his fingertips. "I want to talk about how you are what I couldn't stop thinking about during the game. And you're the only person I want to be around right now."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well. That's not too shabby," she said, with a teasing smile.

"Not shabby at all, and I've got to say, you're very good at this doctor stuff. My shoulder feels better already."