Why not Wyoming? (Wyoming Wilds Series Book 1) (10 page)

Evie looked back and forth between them. When the silence
reached the completely uncomfortable stage, she patted his shoulder and stepped
back.

“I’ll get you some more fries.”

He blew out a breath as the older woman finally headed for the
kitchen. Looking at Annie, his irritation eased. At least the distraction had
given him a moment to gather his thoughts, and look at things from her
perspective. He thought he had it this time.

“Austin isn’t mine.”

They were three little words, but he hoped they would make a
world of difference in the way she was looking at him.

Annie inhaled sharply, drawing the bite she’d just taken
straight into her lungs. Grabbing her napkin, she coughed desperately, chest
heaving. A ball of pain lodged behind her breastbone. Her eyes teared up in
agony. She struggled to draw air between hacking coughs. The censorious gaze of
thirty or forty other people wasn’t cooling the humiliation burning in her
cheeks. She closed her eyes and focused on swallowing and breathing. A warm
hand on her back made her eyes fly open again. CJ squatted beside her chair.

“Take it easy. Just breathe.”

A member of the waitstaff stepped into her line of vision. Her
eyes flickered nervously in his direction. CJ’s hands cupped her cheeks,
turning her face back to him.

“Look at me, Annie. You’re okay.”

Staring at him through the tears she took one shuddering breath
after another.

“That’s it,” he coaxed.

“I’m so sorry,” she choked out.

“Get so you can breathe and then we’ll talk.”

A few more coughs and the pressure started to ease. She ran her
thumbs under her eyes, shakily wiping away the tears and took a deep breath.

“I’m okay,” she whispered hoarsely, risking a sip of water. 

CJ stood, dropping a kiss on her forehead before taking his
seat across from her.

Annie finger-combed her hair, stealing a peek at the other
diners. She couldn’t see Teresa without turning around, but could feel the
derision stabbing into her back. “I don’t know what it is, but you seem to
bring out my graceless side. I’m so sorry.”

“It happens to everybody.”

“Then why does it feel like it’s just me?” 

“Paranoia?” CJ suggested.

Annie laughed, still looking around to see who was watching
her. She laughed harder when she realized what she was doing.

“That’s a very real possibility.”

“I’d say so.”

She’d read about sparkling eyes, definitely wrote about them a
time or two, but didn’t think anything could compare with the blue eyes across the
table from her. How could he be smiling at her like that after she’d made an
ass of herself?

“I really am sorry,” she said softly. “And I seem to be making
a habit of saying that to you.”

“He would’ve been a big thing to hide.”

“Austin has dark hair, mommy has blond. God, why are they
always blond?” Annie said grimacing. “He looked so right in your lap. When she
told you to call to set up a visit I just thought…”

“I get how you jumped to that conclusion. Even a lot of people around
here did, but no. Austin was almost a year old when Teresa and I started
dating. There’s no chance.”

“I’m sorry I thought the worse.”

“I get it.”

“But you deserve better.”

She jumped when CJ covered her hand.

“Hey. Stop kicking yourself,” he said softly. “You read into it
what she wanted you to. That’s Teresa’s game. She uses Austin.”

“Against you?” Annie asked. The expression on his face said it
all. She didn’t know what to say. “That sucks.”

“It does. I love the kid, but Teresa and I just don’t work.”  

The waitress brought CJ a new plate of fries and loitered,
filling drinks and inquiring on dinner. The buffalo burger was as good as
promised. It didn’t have that different of a taste, just more flavor. CJ said elk
burgers were even better. Annie missed the heat of his hand on hers. She was
relieved when the waitress finally moved on.

“Call me a horrible human being, but I’m glad.”

CJ cocked his head in question at the sudden declaration.

“That you two don’t work,” she supplied. “It gives me a shot.”

A goofy grin lit his face and then he shook his head at her.

“What?” she demanded.

“You honestly have no idea how amazing you are.”

She had nothing for that. He was looking at her like…well, like
every heroine fantasized about being looked at. Like she was the only woman in
the room. The anticipation and hope it inspired was intoxicating, and utterly terrifying.
Did he know what he was doing to her? Annie bit her lip and went for it.

“If we’re back to arguing who’s more amazing, maybe we should
head home and see if that new beard oil works as well as it smells.” 

 

Her fingernail scored the Styrofoam cup, idly outlining the convenience
store logo. The French Vanilla cappuccino threatened to sour in her stomach. She
stole a look at CJ out of the corner of her eye. His hands flexed on the
steering wheel. The silence wasn’t new, but the sickening tension was. There
hadn’t been many words between them this morning. Last night had been
incredible, their love making carrying a sweet desperation. This morning that
desperation had been tinged with fear, making them intense and serious. Even a
near mishap in the shower hadn’t produced the laughter that was becoming their
thing.

Closing her eyes, Annie leaned the side of her head against the
passenger window. Tears pricked behind her lids.  Neither of them wanted her to
leave. They’d stayed in their cocoon until the last minute, not even leaving
time for breakfast. Her stomach rolled. Maybe that had been a good thing.

“You look tired. Are you going to have time for a nap before
the party?”

“I’ll sleep on the plane,” she said and immediately regretted
her brush off as the Jeep fell quiet again.

Putting the cappuccino down in the center console, she rubbed
the back of her neck. She was getting a headache. CJ glanced at the cup.

“I’m sorry I didn’t have time to make you a cup of real cocoa
before we left the house.”

“I might be guilty of instigating things in the shower,” she
said with a slight smile. “Either way, I’m not complaining. That was the best
morning of my life, until…” She let the words drift away.  

He just nodded, focus staying on the road. Digging her fingers
into the hollow at the base of her skull Annie, worked taut muscles and
searched for something to get them talking.       

“Did your mom and dad really fall in love in an afternoon?”

CJ shot her a sidelong glance and nodded.  

“Dad met Mom at a rodeo in Casper. He went to watch a buddy
ride broncs. My mom was selling slices of homemade pie with her mom and
sisters. One piece of blueberry pie and the rest is history. The only remaining
mystery is, which did Dad actually fall for first, Mom or the pie?”

“Thirty-three years down the road I guess we can say whichever
it was, he fell hard,” she said with an admiring shake of her head.

“We Barrett men know the right woman when we see her.”

Annie smiled, warmth flooding her at his words.

“Tell me the rest of the story.”

“There isn’t much else to tell. It’s about a five-hour round
trip to Casper. Dad didn’t make it too many times before asking her to marry
him. It was thirty days from dessert to I do.”

“That must have been some good pie.”

CJ nodded, but his gaze was still serious. Annie bit her lip.

“This isn’t goodbye, you know. Once I get through the publicity
push, I can fly back for another visit.”

He nodded again. “I know. We’re going into February and March.
This is my slow time. I could come to Michigan, or meet up with you somewhere.” 

“This can work. We just both have to want it,” she said, not
sure who she was trying to convince.  

“I can’t think of anything I want more.”

The sincerity in his deep voice made the tears make a comeback.
Rolling her eyes upward and swallowing hard, she tried to keep her emotions in
check. She didn’t want to leave. She sniffed. If one tear fell, she’d lose it.
Parting her lips, she drew in a deep breath and slowly blew it back out, trying
not to be obvious. The last thing she wanted to do was make this harder on CJ when
it was her fault she was leaving.

“It sounds like we’re on the same page,” she said, pleased her
voice held steady.

CJ’s hand slipped off the gear shift to land on her thigh.

“You don’t have to hide from me.”

“I’m not hiding from you,” she scoffed. “I’m right here.”

“Right here, looking out the window so I won’t know you’re
trying not to cry.”

“You know I don’t want to go, right?”

“This is your career you’re talking about.”

“That’s supposed to be my argument.”

“Writing is your passion. Your publisher obviously has a lot of
faith in
Mackinac Monday
to be throwing this party.”

“How do you know the name of my book?” she asked, turning in
the seat to face him.

“You mentioned it after your phone call with Finn.”

Annie scrunched up her face in thought, trying to recall the
conversation. She pointed a finger at him when it dawned.

“Right after I complimented you on your awesome memory.”

“And you told Finn you were being held captive by a sexy
survivalist.”

“I stand by the sexy part, even if you want to challenge the
legitimacy of the survivalist title.”

“Keep drinking the cocoa,” he murmured, turning into the airport.

Her stomach flip-flopped and she reached for the door. Hand
resting on the handle, she prayed.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, keeping her mouth closed. How was she going to
handle the small plane to Denver with her stomach already pitching a fit?

“Nerves?”

Lips pressed tight, she nodded again.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“I’ll be okay,” she reassured him and herself.

CJ carried her bags in, exchanging greetings with a couple of
guys in the small airport. She figured he was probably here often, picking up
or dropping off clients. A smile curved her tense lips hearing him call her
precious cargo. Arms went around her from behind and CJ kissed her neck.

“It’s going to be okay, beautiful. I told the pilot to make it
a real smooth flight.”

“Did you happen to mention why?” she snorted softly.

“I might’ve. I figured it’s an excellent incentive.”

“I don’t have much time between flights in Denver. I’ll try to
drop you a text. Otherwise, I will let you know when I get home.”

“Just worry about you, and text me when you can,” CJ said
firmly.

Annie pressed back against his chest and his arms tightened.

“I don’t want to go,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“Please don’t let me screw us up.”

CJ turned her, cupping her face.

“We’re not going to screw this up. This is not goodbye. I
promise,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You just have a little business to take
care of. Go back to Grand Rapids, and show the VIPs the bright, beautiful,
funny woman I’m in love with. You’ll knock their socks off.”

Annie swallowed a sob, hand flying up to cover her mouth as
they called her flight. CJ pulled her hand away and kissed her gently.

“Go,” he said, nudging her toward the waiting gate.

Her mouth opened and nothing came out.

“This is not goodbye,” he reminded her. “Go, before you miss
your connection.”

She had no idea how she made it onto the small jet. Swallowing
desperately against her heaving stomach, she sank into her seat. Jet seemed a
grandiose name for the small aircraft that barely held thirty people. Her hands
were shaking so badly that the lady next to her leaned over and buckled her
seatbelt.

“Thank you.”

“Relax, honey. I make this flight two or three times a month.
We’re in good hands,” the woman said, giving her arm a pat.

Not sure she could explain it if she wanted to, Annie nodded
with a forced smile of thanks. Her fingers dug into the armrests, eager to get
this show on the road and over. Somehow, she needed to still the knocking of
her knees and find the courage to make the world fall in love with her book. No
problem for the girl who’d nearly hyperventilated giving her parents’ eulogy in
front of friends and family. Why was the written word so much easier than the
spoken? The engines whined and they started to taxi. Closing her eyes, she blew
out a breath and tried to focus on the positive. When the publicity tour was
over, for three hundred and change she could hop on a plane in Michigan and
four hours later be in CJ’s arms.  

Bare toes curled in the carpet, Annie sprawled in the bottom
of her closet wrapped in a ratty polka-dot bathrobe. She couldn’t do this.
Clothes and hangers littered the floor around her. Her carefully applied makeup
was a soggy mess. Static from the robe’s hood and the carpet made her brown
hair stand out from her head like a plasma globe. Everything she’d tried on
either made her look fat, frumpy or twelve. She pounded the back of her head on
the floor and wiped at the tears. It was definitely blanket fort time.

If she expected anyone to take her seriously she needed to look
the part. What in the hell did a sophisticated, successful author wear anyway?
She blindly patted the floor beside her. Her phone was here somewhere. Google
was her friend. Thumbs tapping out her virtual SOS in the search engine, she
scanned the image results and groaned. She was too damn short to pull off the
elegant pantsuit and pearls look. Besides, she didn’t own pearls. Sweater sets and
gold sparkles were just not her thing. Beige and black were big. Annie rolled
her eyes at another picture. Successful or not, she wasn’t showing that much
cleavage even to sell a book.

Checking her texts and received calls, her anxiety levels
climbed another rung. Still nothing from CJ. She’d sent a text when she touched
down in Grand Rapids and tried calling him before her shower. Nothing. She
tapped the phone against her lips. Maybe he was up at the lodge. Cell reception
there was spotty. From what CJ said, reception was spotty in most of the state.
He had to carry a satellite phone when he went out on the job. Why hadn’t she
thought to get his home number? It was way too soon to resort to calling the
lodge. Talk about looking desperate and clingy. She dropped the phone on her
chest. What in the hell was she going to wear to this thing?

The phone rang and Annie snatched it up. It was Finn.

“You better be ready or getting there.”

“I don’t know what to wear,” she said, wincing at the whine in
her tone.

“You have seriously got to be kidding me. Do I need to come over
there and kick you square in the butt?” her friend asked.

“Probably.”

“You are at least home, right?”

“Unfortunately.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t think we have enough time for that. It’s a lengthy
list.”

Finn gave a growling sigh.

“Do not blow this. I know you’re scared, but this is a big
opportunity for you, kiddo. Trust me. This is going to be the book that puts
you up there with the big names.”

“Yeah, because the tenth time is the charm,” she muttered.

“I am going to kick you,” Finn said. “Annie, have I ever lied
to you, even when you wanted me to?”

“No.”

“And I’m not now. I can’t tell you how much I love this book.
Love! You are so close. You’ve always been a gifted writer, but having a big
name publisher with their resources behind you has made such a difference. Sales
have climbed with each book. Hitting the bestseller list with your last one was
huge.”

“I snuck on the bottom of the list for a week, Finn, and they
splashed it on the other eight books like I came out of the womb some sort of
literary goddess.”

“Go look at any book on your shelf whose author has hit the New
York Times list even once. I guarantee that fact is emblazoned on all their
covers. That’s marketing. You’re good. Embrace it!”

“I’m trying.”

“Lazing around in your pajamas is not going to get it done this
time. This is your party. You’re a writer. Dress codes go out the window for
the eccentric artsy types. Pull on some boots, your favorite jeans, a jacket of
some kind, and one of those cool scarfs you always wear. Pick something that
makes you feel good about yourself. That confidence will bleed through to the
rest of the night.”

Annie turned her head to look at her favorite ankle boots.
Matching the black suede footwear with jeans the same color made her legs look
longer.

“You think that will be okay?”

“It will be fine. Now, stop pouting in the bottom of your
closet. Like I told you before, get through the promotional poo-poo, make a ton
of money and then you can go back to Wyoming and play with your big game stud.”

“How did you know I was in my closet?”

“Because I know you. Move!”

“What if he doesn’t want to play with me anymore?”

Annie regretted voicing her fears the moment the words popped
out of her mouth. The ensuing silence didn’t help. Fresh tears rolled out of the
corner of her eyes. When Finn finally spoke her tone was softer than normal.

“Did something actually happen, or is this you being paranoid?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “He told me to let him know when
I made it home safe. I sent him a text from the airport and then called him when
I got back home, and nothing.”

“How was he when you left?”

“Sweet, wonderful, supportive, but I was a weepy, nauseous
mess. He’s probably just now realizing what a bullet he dodged and is out getting
a new phone number.”