WANTED (14 page)

“I know, and I’m sorry. So sorry. I’m going to try to fix this.”

“No—” Wyatt practically shouted, but he was already too late. Billy had ended the call. “He’ll get himself killed.”

Or get someone else killed—like Wyatt or her. Either way, he had to be stopped.

Wyatt called Declan, and while Lyla paced, he filled his brother in on what Billy had done.

“I’ll see what I can do to stop him,” Declan promised. “But in the meantime, I’ve got more bad news. We didn’t catch the gunman. I saw him get away. I’m on my way back to the marshals’ office now to see what I can do about talking Stella out of this stupid confession.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, you won’t. Not after what just happened to Lyla. It’s not a good idea for you two to be out and about.”

Wyatt looked at her, and she saw the debate in his eyes. A very short one. “You’re right. But call me the second you find out anything.”

He clicked the end-call button but stared at the phone as if he was trying to will someone to call with good news. Lyla wanted that, too. Desperately.

“How could Billy have been so stupid?” she mumbled.

“Desperate people do stupid things.” And Wyatt looked at her, probably because Wyatt and she had just gone in a stupid direction with the kissing session.

Except it hadn’t felt stupid.

It’d felt right. And comforting. And somehow perfect, even when it was far from it.

“So, what do we do now?” she asked, even though she already knew. There was nothing they could do.

“I can’t take you out of this house,” he said. A reminder she didn’t need. “Declan and the others will find a way to fix this.”

She figured that was possibly another lie and almost certainly for her benefit. Maybe it was the renewed fear from Billy’s call. Or from the realization that she could do absolutely nothing to stop what he’d already set into motion, that they could only wait and see what would happen.

Heck, maybe it was just hormones.

But despite everything they’d just learned, despite another layer of danger, her body was still humming, not for news, but for Wyatt.

And that made her one sick puppy.

She forced herself to take a deep breath to try to clear her head. It didn’t work. But she did manage to put a few steps between Wyatt and herself when she went to the other end of the desk. Distance might help.

Or not.

Lyla groaned because she wasn’t sure anything would help at this point.

He looked at her, ducking down so that he forced eye contact. One glimpse at her, and he blinked. “Oh. You really held that thought.”

Lyla knew exactly what he meant. He was talking about that scalding-hot making out that’d been going on before Billy’s call. She’d not only held it. Lyla was still feeling it.

He lifted his shoulder, but there was nothing casual about the gesture. She could feel the intensity coming off him. “We have time to kill.” Then he shook his head. “Except you and I both know this isn’t about killing time.”

Yes, they did. It was about this attraction that was begging to be satisfied.

She was absolutely positive that she shouldn’t consider doing this, but Wyatt and she hadn’t acted reasonably since they’d first laid eyes on each other. She went to him, ready to kiss him again, but he beat her to it.

Wyatt slid his hand around her, hauled her closer and brought his mouth to hers.

Even though he’d kissed her only moments earlier, this was different. The heat was there. That was a given. It was always there. Along with the need clawing away inside her. She’d given up trying to figure out why she was so attracted to him. Why she let her need for him override common sense, her past.

Override everything.

And Lyla let herself melt against him.

The kiss didn’t stay on her mouth. He dropped that heat to her neck. And it didn’t stay simple, either. Everything felt as if it were spinning out of control, and the only thing Lyla could do was hold on to Wyatt and let him take her.

“You know we shouldn’t be doing this,” he said a split second before his hand went underneath her top. He touched her breasts, causing the fire to roar even hotter.

His gaze met hers, maybe to give her a moment to back away again from this. But they were past the point of no return, and Lyla maneuvered him not away from her, but back toward the sofa. Along the way, Wyatt had the good sense to lock the door. Something she hadn’t even considered. Again, this wasn’t a situation involving reason or logic.

Still kissing, still touching, they landed on the sofa.

Lyla felt the cool leather surface against her bare skin and realized that Wyatt had already shoved up her sweater. But he didn’t stop there. He pulled it off, dropped it to the floor and kissed her breasts through her bra.

The heat soared.

And the bra didn’t last long, either. He quickly rid her of that and went after the zipper on her jeans. Lyla tried to help him, but she got caught in some kissing and touching of her own. The man tasted as good as he looked. Not just his mouth, either, but his neck, and she figured the rest of him would be equally nice to sample.

Too bad they were already past the foreplay, the sampling stage. Probably because they’d been skirting around this since they’d first met. Not love at first sight. But definitely lust.

Everything was frantic now. The need pushing them to finish this, and Lyla did her own share of pushing them to that finish. Somehow, even though she was dealing with the effects of his clever mouth on her breasts, she managed to get his shirt unbuttoned. He was already so many steps ahead of her, and she wanted to catch up.

She wanted to seduce him as much as he was seducing her.

But she was doomed to fail. Obviously, Wyatt was a lot better at this than she was, and before Lyla managed to locate his zipper, he was already shimmying her shoes and jeans off her.

“You have on too many clothes,” she said through her rough breathing.

She did something about that. She shoved his shirt off him and then his jeans. Stripped off his boxers, too. And Lyla got one of those
wow
moments. She’d known that Wyatt looked amazing, of course. Everything about him was past the hot stage, but she realized he was hers.

Well, for this moment anyway.

He couldn’t be more than that, but for now, this was enough. It had to be.

“What?” he asked, looking down at her.

Since he seemed to be in tune to everything happening in her body, he’d probably felt the hesitation. But it wasn’t a hesitation at all. “I’m just admiring the view.”

The corner of his mouth lifted with a smile that only heightened the heat, and his gaze skimmed along her body. All of it. “Yeah, my view’s pretty damn good, too.”

That just about stole the rest of her breath. As did his next kiss. It wasn’t a no-nonsense kind of kiss but one that signaled to her body that this was happening
now.

He adjusted their positions again, catching onto the back of her knee and anchoring her leg against the outside of his hip. There wasn’t much room to maneuver on the sofa, but Lyla forgot all about that when he pushed inside her.

The pleasure exploded in her head.

And through the rest of her.

She gasped. Definitely not in pain. From the pure pleasure. But Wyatt’s gaze met hers again. Obviously checking. She assured him that all was perfect by pulling him down to her for a deep kiss.

Everything was deep, too. The way he moved inside her. The grip he had on her leg and the back of her neck. Lyla wanted it to last, but she knew that wasn’t possible. Something burning this hot couldn’t last.

She felt the climax ripple through her and tried to hang on to every moment, every sensation. But the pleasure took over, consuming her until there was only one thought, just one word, repeating in her head.

Wyatt. Wyatt. Wyatt.

Chapter Fourteen

Wyatt felt the jolt go through his body. The release that made him mindless, numb and satisfied all at the same time. It was a good way to finish what that kissing session had started.

He buried his face against Lyla’s neck. Drew in her scent. And let that and the other sensations slide through him. The feel of her bare skin against his. The soft rhythm of her breath.

Those little aftershocks from her climax that kept gripping on to him.

Yeah, that was a good sensation, all right, and a nudge to his body that it would be ready to take her again soon.

But
soon
was going to have to wait.

He would have preferred to stay there with her arms around him, still deep inside her, but with everything going on, it wasn’t a good idea to lie around naked.

Of course, it hadn’t been a good idea to have sex with Lyla, either, but that hadn’t stopped him. Before he could talk himself out of it, he groaned and started to move off her.

But Lyla slid her leg over his and held him in place. Not that he fought her hard. He was a more than willing captive.

“What, regrets already?” she asked. “I thought it’d take at least five minutes or so before the panic started to set in.”

“Not panic.” Because her mouth was so close and she smelled like every good thing rolled into one, he brushed a kiss on her lips.

“But regret,” she clarified.

“Some.” He hadn’t meant to admit that and spoil the moment, but Lyla seemed to be clued in to what was going on his head. “But probably not nearly enough. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that I just complicated the hell out of this.”

She lifted her shoulder. “I was an equal participant in the complication.” She held the stare a moment longer, and he saw the realization go through her eyes.

Not regret, exactly.

But she had to be mentally playing this out. It would affect everything they did in the future.

Everything.

Now she groaned.

And that was Wyatt’s cue to get up and start dressing.

“I didn’t even ask you if it was okay for you to have sex,” he said, aiming a glance at her stomach.

“Probably because it was hard to ask anything with those French kisses.”

He couldn’t help it. Wyatt smiled, leaned down and gave her another kiss. “You’re being, well, rational about this.”

And he wasn’t. Especially when his gaze landed on her butt-naked body. Mercy, he wanted her all over again, and he’d just had her. What the heck was wrong with him?

“On the outside I’m being rational,” Lyla started. “Inside...”

Wyatt put on his boxers, stared at her, waiting for her to finish. But she didn’t. “You’re panicking?” he finished for her.

But she shook her head. “Not exactly. I think I’m feeling panicky because I’m not panicking. That doesn’t make sense, I know.”

Yeah, it did. Too much about this had felt much better than it should have, considering they both had a baggage-filled past. And then there was the baby.

The ultimate complication.

And yet, it was perfect. Of course, Lyla might dispute that when they sat down to work out custody. Sooner or later, they’d have to do just that.

However, before he could say anything about custody or what’d just happened, his phone buzzed. He had to rifle through the heap of clothes on the floor and locate his jeans and his phone in the pocket. But his heart practically skipped a beat when he saw the name on the screen.

Kirby.

He showed the screen to Lyla, and she immediately got up and started dressing. Like him, she was no doubt bracing herself for more bad news.

“Anything wrong?” Wyatt said the moment he answered, and he put the call on speaker.

“Not with me, but I heard from Declan about the shooting and what Billy did. You and Lyla okay?”

“Yeah.” Better than okay. And worse. But Wyatt was going to have to deal with the
worse
later, too. “Billy said he called you and all the other people he considers suspects.”

“He did, and it was a stupid thing to do. He could have gotten Lyla and you killed.”

Wyatt couldn’t argue with that. “I don’t think it’ll make the killer come after Stella or you. If the killer continues to believe Billy’s lie about that tape, then Lyla will remain the target. But take some precautions just in case I’m wrong. Maybe keep Declan or one of the others with you.”

“Yes.” And that was all Kirby said for several long moments. “Stella’s getting out of lockup. For now, I’ve had her confession suppressed.”

Well, that was good news, especially since he hadn’t picked up on anything good from Kirby’s gloom-and-doom tone. “How’d you manage that?”

“By riling her to the core, that’s how. I convinced Saul that she’s having some mental issues because of everything going on.”

Oh, mercy. Yes, that would have riled her. “But she’s coming home?”

“She is. Maybe soon she’ll quit glaring and start speaking to me again.”

Wyatt actually felt sorry for Kirby, because he knew how much his foster father cared for Stella. But Kirby also cared enough not to see her go to jail for something that she hadn’t done.

“Anyway, we’ll be on our way back soon,” Kirby continued. “Me, Stella and Declan. Dallas, too. He’s turned over the hunt for your attacker to the Rangers.”

“Smart idea. There’s been enough danger for this family.” Too bad that danger was just going to continue until they caught the person behind this.

Kirby didn’t answer, and that put a tight grip on Wyatt’s stomach. “Is something wrong?” Wyatt asked. “Something other than the obvious, I mean?”

“We need to have a family meeting.” And with that, Kirby paused a long time. “Call the rest of your brothers and have them come to the main house so they’ll be with Lyla and you. I’ll bring Billy with me. I’ve put the ranch hands on alert. All of them are armed and ready in case something goes wrong. I even asked some of them to patrol the fence and road.”

That didn’t help ease the knot forming in his stomach. “I don’t think that’s wise to bring Billy here.”

“Declan’s already disarmed him, and we’ll all keep an eye on him.”

That still didn’t help, since Billy had nearly gotten them killed. “What’s this meeting all about?” Wyatt came out and asked.

“It’s time,” Kirby said, pulling in a weary-sounding breath. “All of you need to know the truth about Jonah Webb’s murder.”

* * *

L
YLA
STOPPED
in the doorway of the family room and studied the crowd that’d gathered. The tension was so thick she could feel it, and it didn’t seem to improve when some of Wyatt’s family looked at her. Probably because they thought she didn’t belong there.

Or maybe it was just because she seemed to be turning into a bullet magnet like Wyatt.

Caitlyn and Joelle offered thin smiles, but the others just couldn’t muster it.

Even Stella. Kirby had been right about her glaring, because she was doing it now.

So, maybe this didn’t have anything to do with her, but with the possible bad news that was hanging like a dark cloud over the room.

“I can wait upstairs while you have the meeting,” Lyla whispered to Wyatt. Not the first offer she’d made. In fact, she’d made several of them shortly after Kirby had called for this family meeting. Emphasis on
family,
and she was pretty sure a fake wife didn’t count.

“You should be here,” Kirby said, probably because he saw the hesitancy all over her face. “You’re right smack-dab in the middle of this mess now, and you should hear what has to be said.”

“The baby’s in the middle of it, too,” Wyatt volunteered. “Yeah, Lyla’s pregnant, and it’s my baby.”

Caitlyn, his brother’s pregnant wife, made an
I told you so
sound.

“I don’t want her or the baby involved in anything else that’s dangerous,” Wyatt added.

He probably hadn’t meant to make her feel like a gestational carrier. In fact, she was sure he hadn’t meant it. But the truth was—it was his baby, not hers. And soon his family would know that, too.

Then how would they react?

Of course, they weren’t her biggest worries when it came to this baby. It was Wyatt himself. And now that she’d slept with him, it was going to make their entire situation that much harder.

She heard someone unlocking the front door, and Wyatt eased her behind him. But not before she got a glimpse of the men who came in. Declan and Harlan. Busby, the ranch hand who’d rescued her in the pasture, and he had a firm grip on Billy’s arm. He led Billy into the family room.

“Billy’s not armed,” Declan told everyone. He closed the door, locked it and rearmed the security system.

Billy didn’t look exactly happy about being frisked and locked in with a group of people who were riled at him, but Lyla was glad Declan had done it, since Billy might be able to help solve this mess of a puzzle. She was equally glad that Wyatt and all his brothers were wearing their weapons just in case Billy was there to do more than help.

“So, what’s this meeting about?” Billy asked.

Lyla wanted to know the same thing. She’d heard what Kirby had told Wyatt. That they all needed to know the truth about Webb’s murder, and that could mean someone in the room was about to make a confession.

Kirby stood. Not easily. Clearly, he was still weak, and he held on to the back of the chair for support. That softened Stella’s glare a little, but she didn’t get up from the reading chair on the far side of the room. She stayed seated, her gaze fixed on Kirby.

“Since Webb’s body was found,” Kirby said, “we’ve all been trying to protect each other. None of you wants Stella and me to go to jail, and we feel the same about you.” He looked around the room the way a loving father would.

Until his gaze landed on Billy, that is.

“It’s time for the truth,” Kirby said to him. “Did you help kill your daddy?”

Billy didn’t jump to respond to that, but for several seconds his mouth flattened into a line. “No. And if that’s why you brought me here, to try to pin his murder on me, then I’m leaving.” He turned to walk out.

“It’s not why I asked you here,” Kirby insisted. “I just need to get to the truth. I’ve nearly lost my boys and their wives. Wyatt nearly lost his wife and baby today. This can’t go on.”

Billy stopped and eased back around. “I didn’t help my mother kill him,” he finally answered.

Kirby nodded—though it was hard to tell if he believed him—and he looked at Stella. “I won’t ask if you did it, because you’d just lie to cover for the rest of us. But you might not need to cover for us. We have to get this out in the open so we can deal with it.”

Stella swallowed hard. Nodded. “I didn’t help with the murder, but if any one of us is going to jail for it, it’ll be me.”

“Admirable,” Kirby mumbled. “But not very smart. By giving that false confession, it allows the real killer to hide behind it. And the hiding has to end tonight.”

It should end with the truth, but Lyla wasn’t certain they were anywhere near that point yet. Still, she had some questions that might clear up some things.

“I saw the blood spatter on the wall of your former quarters before the bomb destroyed it,” she said to Stella. “There wasn’t a lot of blood, but it was something you would have noticed.”

Stella gave a weary sigh. “The attack probably did happen there. Or at least I think it could have started there anyway. But I’d moved out of that room earlier in the day because a water pipe had burst and flooded the floor and damaged part of the wall.”

Lyla looked at Billy, who confirmed that with a nod. “There was a leak, and Mom told me that Stella had moved rooms.” He paused. “But I didn’t know if the leak was just an excuse so that no one would see the blood.”

“It wasn’t an excuse,” Stella insisted. “Not on my part anyway. I’d been in the clinic with Declan after Webb had beaten him, so I have no idea what went on in my room. I just know when I tried to get back in, the door was padlocked and my stuff was in the hall.”

“And you didn’t get suspicious?” Lyla pressed.

“Of course I did. Just hours earlier Webb had beaten my son within an inch of his life. And he’d slapped me when I confronted him about it.”

Declan went to his mother, slipped his arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay,” he murmured to her.

Stella’s eyes were filled with tears when she looked at Lyla. “I hoped someone had murdered Webb, and I didn’t want to ask questions.”

“Because you thought one of us had done it,” Declan finished for her. He shook his head. “I didn’t kill Webb.”

“I didn’t, either.” Harlan spoke up.

Clayton echoed the same. Then Dallas. Slade, too. Joelle and Caitlyn, who’d lived at Rocky Creek at the time of the murders, added their “I didn’t” responses.

“I didn’t kill him,” Wyatt added, “but I’m not sorry he’s dead.”

And all eyes turned to Kirby.

Lyla hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until her lungs started to ache, and she forced herself to breathe. Some of the others in the room seemed to have the same trouble—all of them waiting for Kirby to respond.

“I’ll confess to the murder,” Kirby finally said.

“No, you won’t!” Wyatt snapped, but his wasn’t the only voice in the room. All his brothers and their wives protested, as well.

“I won’t let you sacrifice yourself,” Stella insisted. The glare and anger were completely gone from her expression, and she left Declan to go to Kirby’s side.

Kirby gave her a flat look. “You were willing to make a false confession for the family.”

“Did you kill Webb?” Wyatt demanded. His hands were on his hips now, and his jaw muscles were stirring.

Lyla held her breath again. It seemed everyone in the room did.

Kirby shook his head. “I would have killed him, though, if I could have found him. I went looking for him after I saw what he’d done to Declan, and the bruise on Stella’s face. But Webb wasn’t anywhere around, and Sarah said she didn’t know where he was.”

Lyla could practically feel the relief go through every one of them.

“But none of this matters,” Kirby continued. “I’m not letting any of you go to jail for killing that piece of scum.”