WANTED (13 page)

Lyla shook her head. “Not without you.”

Wyatt’s gaze met hers. “Think of the baby.”

That was playing dirty, but she couldn’t ignore the risk to the baby. Even if the shooter somehow managed to kidnap her, heaven knew what would happen to them. And to Wyatt.

“Go ahead,” Wyatt added. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Move now!” the ranch hand called out to her.

Lyla couldn’t take the time to debate this any longer, so she darted through the trees toward the pinto. The moment she reached them, the ranch hand caught her by the arm and levered her onto the back of the saddle before he got the pinto moving.

Fast.

She tried to get one last glimpse of Wyatt, but the hand immediately maneuvered them into yet another group of trees. Away from the danger.

Away from Wyatt.

And even over the sound of her heartbeat crashing in her ears, Lyla heard the shots slam nonstop into the SUV.

Chapter Thirteen

Wyatt sent another shot in the direction of the gunman, who was obviously trying to kill him. But at least Lyla was out of harm’s way.

For now.

The ranch hand, John Busby, had worked on the ranch for years and was someone Wyatt trusted. Busby would get her back to the house and guard her until Wyatt managed to join them. And when Wyatt’s phone buzzed again, he hoped it was news that would speed up his doing just that.

“Almost there,” Declan greeted him. “Dallas, too. He’s coming from the other direction. He didn’t want to leave until he made sure the others were locked in and safe.”

Wyatt couldn’t blame him. Both Caitlyn and Joelle were pregnant, too, and plus, Slade’s and Clayton’s infant sons were there. That was a lot of people who had to be protected on the ranch. Normally, the doors wouldn’t be locked, but they would be until the danger had passed.

The second that Wyatt pushed the end-call button, he heard the sirens. Declan, no doubt. And his brother’s loud approach got the results Wyatt needed.

The gunman stopped firing.

Wyatt immediately grabbed his phone and called Dallas. “The shooter’s getting away. Get someone to that old ranch road on the west. That’s probably his escape route.”

“Will do,” Dallas assured him. “Now get back to the main house. Lyla’s worried about you.”

That worry had to be pretty extreme for Dallas to even mention it, so the moment Declan pulled to a stop on the road, Wyatt kept low but made his way to the truck. Declan didn’t waste any time getting them out of there.

“You okay?” Declan asked.

Wyatt nodded, but he was far from okay. “How was Busby so close to us when the shooting started?”

“He was out riding fence, and I had Cutter call him.”

So, they’d gotten lucky. Wyatt hated that it’d taken something as random as luck to keep Lyla and the baby from being hurt. Or worse.

“I think someone was trying to kidnap Lyla,” Wyatt told his brother.

Declan cursed, pushed the accelerator even harder and sped toward the ranch. Busby was on the porch, his rifle ready and aimed, and Wyatt spotted Lyla in the window. Despite Busby yelling for her to stay inside, she threw open the front door, barreled down the steps and landed right in Wyatt’s arms.

It didn’t feel like a hug from a fake wife. Neither did the kiss she planted on his mouth. Or the tears that were in her eyes. Those were caused by genuine worry and fear. Of course, it didn’t mean her reaction was more than that. And Wyatt didn’t want it to be. However, it gave him some reassurance, too, to have her in his arms.

“You weren’t hurt?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“No.” And Wyatt got her moving back toward the door, because he didn’t want her out in the open with the rifleman on the loose. He looked at Busby. “Come in and stand guard. I want someone else watching the back of the house.”

Busby nodded, took out his phone and followed them in.

“I’ll help Dallas look for this guy,” Declan offered. “But everybody should stay inside with the doors locked.”

Wyatt did exactly that, and he set the security system once he had Lyla and Busby in the foyer. He didn’t arm the security just for the house but for the sensors that were scattered over the property. It didn’t mean someone couldn’t get through, but at least they’d have a warning if that happened.

“Busby said no one else is here,” Lyla told him. “They’re all at Dallas and Joelle’s house.”

“I brought her here because it was closer,” Busby explained.

A wise decision.

“Thanks for getting Lyla out of there,” he told the man.

Busby just nodded. “You think the shooter’s coming back for another round?”

“I think we’re okay for now.” But it was a lie. Wyatt had no idea what would happen other than he would do whatever it took to keep Lyla safe.

“Grab a chair from the den if you want,” Wyatt offered the man. “You might be here a while. And once the other ranch hand’s here to guard the back, let him in, but then make sure the security system is reset.”

“Will do. I’ll give a yell if I see or hear anything.”

And Wyatt would do the same. Once he had Lyla settled.

But he debated where to take her. There were too many windows in the kitchen and the den.

In most rooms, actually.

Plus, she was shaking all over now and likely ready to crash. But he still needed to be where he could monitor the security sensors and camera. So, he led her toward the ranch’s main office on the side of the house. Too bad he couldn’t offer her some whiskey to settle her nerves, because she was going to need something.

The room was much larger than his own office, and while it wouldn’t be as comfortable as one of the bedrooms, it’d have to do. Keeping an eye on her, Wyatt booted up the laptop on the desk that Kirby had used daily before he got sick. These days, it fell mainly to Wyatt and his brothers.

“People keep shooting at us,” Lyla said under her breath.

Wyatt considered a bullet-magnet joke, but the fear was still too fresh and too raw for that. He had her sit on the leather sofa, and even though it wouldn’t do much in the nerve-steadying department, he handed her a bottle of water.

“You need to see a doctor?” he asked, praying that she didn’t. It might not be safe to get a doctor out here with a gunman on the loose. Still, he’d make it happen if she needed medical attention.

But she didn’t answer. Lyla took the plastic bottle of water as if it were fragile and might crack in her hand, and she set it aside on the table. With that same level of fragility, she stood and buried her face against his shoulder.

“We can’t keep going through this.” Her breath broke, and Wyatt braced himself for the tears to start. But there were no tears in her eyes when she pulled back and met his gaze.

“I want to get this bastard,” she said. “I want to stop him before he hurts us.”

Wyatt wanted the same, with another demand tacked on to hers. He wanted to make this jerk pay for putting Lyla through another ordeal.

She eased back even farther, looking a little stronger now, and tipped her head to the laptop. “We need to watch to make sure the gunman doesn’t try to get on the ranch.”

“If anyone comes across the fence or the road, it’ll trigger a sensor that’ll give us a warning beep.” But just in case the shooter figured out some way to jam that specific sensor, Wyatt turned the laptop in the direction of the sofa. The security system had cameras so even if they lost the warning sensor, they should still be able to see what was going on. He had Lyla sit again so she could watch.

But she didn’t sit by herself.

She caught onto his hand and pulled him down beside her.

“I can’t imagine going through this alone,” she whispered.

He heard every ounce of raw emotion in that. Saw it in her eyes, too. And silently cursing the gunman and the person who’d hired him, Wyatt put his arm around her and drew her closer.

Lyla looked up at him. “This is a mistake. I’m sure of it.”

Wyatt had to shake his head because he wasn’t sure what she meant.

Until she kissed him.

But she didn’t just
kiss
him. She coiled her arms around him, put her mouth on his and kissed him the right way. Well, the right way if this had been a real make-out session and not just some reaction to the shooting. Everything else about it was wrong, especially the timing.

“You could cost me everything,” she said with her mouth against his.

She was talking about the baby now, something Wyatt wasn’t sure they should discuss. Not with too many other things unsettled. But the one thing that was settled was this blasted attraction between them.

It was getting stronger with each passing second.

Of course, that kiss sure as heck hadn’t helped.

Neither would what he was about to do. He was about to take one wrong kiss and turn it into an even bigger one. One that he was certain they’d regret, but even knowing that didn’t stop him.

Cursing himself and cursing her, Wyatt latched on to the back of her hair, not gently, either, and he hauled her even closer until they were tangled against each other. The kiss continued. Raging like the fire building inside him. Man, he wanted her.

And he did something about that.

He pulled her onto his lap so he could kiss her neck. And so he could kiss lower, too. He was still too rough and tried to slow down. Tried to take things easier. But Lyla clearly wanted no part of easier, because she pulled him right back to her when he tried to ease away.

She was wearing a stretchy sweater top, and with one tug he shoved it up and had access to the tops of her breasts. He kissed her there. First one, then the other. And his own body reacted to the breathy little moan of pleasure she made deep in her throat.

So, Wyatt ignored the big warning in his head and pretty much gave in to what a different part of him was demanding. Of course, that part often came up with stupid demands, but he’d already crossed so many lines with Lyla that it didn’t take much to keep crossing more.

He shoved down her bra, and her breasts spilled into his hands. Oh, man. She was perfect.

And he was toast.

He didn’t stop. Wyatt kept touching her. Kept kissing her. Until the ache inside was well past the point of no return.

“I can’t catch my breath,” she said, and went after his mouth again.

Great. She was acting just as reckless as he was, and Wyatt had counted on her to stop this.

It had to stop.

But it took him several moments to remember why exactly that had to be. And the reason was his wife, Ann. Except, Lyla was his wife now.

In name only.

Of course, they were blowing that big-time. If these kisses and touches kept up, this marriage would be consummated the old-fashioned way. With a great round of sex.

And he was sure it would be great.

With this much fire and energy between them, there was no chance it would be bad, which meant once they’d finished this mistake, he would almost certainly want to make another one with her.

Lyla stopped so she could drag in some air, and when she came back with one of those deep, mind-blowing kisses, she turned, easing back onto the sofa and pulling him down with her.

Or, rather, on top of her.

Probably the worst place for him to be, but Wyatt went there anyway until he knew the next step would involve clothing removal.

And it would have if not for the buzzing sound.

Because he had only one thing on his mind—sex with Lyla—it took him a moment to realize it was a phone.

Hell. This could be critical. There was a gunman on the loose near the ranch, and Wyatt had gotten so caught up with Lyla that he’d forgotten everything that he sure as heck should be remembering.

“Hold that thought,” he told Lyla, moving her hand from his zipper. Though he should have been telling her to forget all about it. Not that he could do that, but maybe she’d see this from a different angle.

The right one.

He got up. Not easily. He could barely stand, because he was hard as stone. And he looked at the name on the phone screen. Not one of his brothers, thank God, with bad news about the shooter.

It was Billy.

Of course, this could be bad news of a different kind. Lately, no one had been calling him just to chat, and he figured that wasn’t happening now.

“I’m sorry,” Billy said the moment Wyatt answered.

Wyatt groaned. An apology wasn’t a good start to a conversation. “Sorry for what?” And he was certain he wasn’t going to like this answer.

“I know why someone just tried to kill you, Wyatt. And it’s all my fault.”

* * *

E
VEN
THOUGH
W
YATT
didn’t have the call on speaker, Lyla could hear what Billy said, and she immediately got to her feet and fixed her clothes. Obviously, the kissing session was finished.

Or at least delayed.

Because it was clear that Billy had something important to tell them.

Lyla motioned for Wyatt to put the call on speaker, and he did, just as Billy’s voice poured through the room.

“I wanted to find out who killed my mother,” Billy said. “So, I lied. I made some calls and put out the word that she’d kept something from the night my father died. Something she gave me so that it could be analyzed.”

“What are you talking about?” Wyatt asked, taking the question right out of Lyla’s mouth.

“I lied,” he repeated, but that didn’t explain anything. “I told some people that I found the tape that my mother had mentioned. I said it was scratchy, very poor quality, but it was a recorded conversation between my mother and the person who helped her kill my father.”

Oh, mercy. Lyla’s heart started racing. “You said you gave it to me to be analyzed, didn’t you?”

“Yes. You were the only person I could think of, because you work with evidence like that and crime scenes. And I told the people I called that I didn’t want the Rangers to know the results yet just in case the evidence pointed to someone I wanted to protect. Like one of the kids from Rocky Creek.”

Wyatt started cursing. Lyla wanted to do the same, but she couldn’t muster the breath.

“Who did you tell, Billy?” Wyatt snapped.

“All of them.” He hesitated, mumbled something that she didn’t catch. “Kirby, Stella, Zeke, Greg and Travis. I called them and told them one by one. Well, except for Stella, and I told Kirby to tell her, because she didn’t answer her phone.”

Now Lyla cursed. Billy had put her directly in the path of a kidnapper, at best.

A killer at worst.

Because the accomplice would no doubt do anything to keep her from detecting his or her voice in what would essentially be a murder confession.

“I thought the person would give us some warning so we could trap him,” Billy quickly added. “Or I thought maybe he’d try to work out some kind of deal to get back the tape. I didn’t think he’d try to shoot you.”

“Well, you thought wrong.” Wyatt’s voice was a low, dangerous growl, and Lyla thought if he could reach through the phone and grab Billy, he would. That was what she wanted to do.