“That’s it. Get out of here,” Wyatt ordered and, striding to the door, yanked it open.
With one smooth move, Rand lifted Lucy and carried her to the hall.
“Don’t worry, Wyatt,” Lucy called. “You can be back in time for Liza’s wedding. Bring a date back with you!”
Their laughter echoed down the hall and into their suite. And then it was silent.
Wyatt kicked off an insanely expensive pair of Italian leather shoes and, wiggling his toes, allowed his gaze to travel leisurely around his suite. Never—not even in his wildest dreams—would he ever have believed that he’d build a decent life for himself on this old planet. But he had.
Thanks to the fact that Joe had been a foster child himself and remembered how it had felt to be taken in and loved when the people who’d brought him into this world had been unable. The fact that Wyatt hadn’t been in Prosperino for nearly five years, then could sit down at the table and pick up where he left off as easily as if it had been five minutes, proved that family was about far more than blood. It was about shared history. About caring. Love.
As Wyatt leaned back into the pillows that were propped against the headboard, his thoughts moved to Annie.
Always to Annie.
Her family came from Keyhole. The same small town where his foster sister Emily had gone. Lord have mercy, what were the odds of that? Some astronomical number, he decided as he considered the bizarre coincidence.
Keyhole, Wyoming. The quaint little village came to life in his minds’ eye. It had been years since he’d been there. To visit Annie. To meet the family. To mess up the best thing that had ever happened to him.
His mind, like a runaway locomotive, churned and screamed with thoughts of Annie. He’d learned a long time ago that once he started thinking about her, he couldn’t stop. It made him miserable, left him sleepless. But there didn’t seem to be any cure. It was almost as if, after their first kiss, she’d become entwined with the ladder of his very DNA. Even after all these years, memories of her made his mouth go dry as the Mojave desert and his face feel the burn of his changing blood pressure. With a tortured groan, Wyatt shifted his position and covered his head with a pillow.
Fool. Fool. Fool. The downy feathers couldn’t seem to drown out the incessant refrain.
His eyes slid closed and he entertained a vision of Annie’s delightfully expressive face. She could have been a poster child for the musical that bore her name. Curly and carrot red, Annie always said that her hair was the bane of her existence. She wouldn’t believe that it had been one of the things that had first drawn Wyatt. That, and her clear ivory skin and fresh wholesome features. But the thing that he’d most loved were her amazing green eyes. Almond-shaped eyes that tilted slightly up and lent her otherwise all-American face an exotic look.
Eyes that could see through to his soul.
Wyatt pulled the pillow off his face and stared at the ceiling.
The very first time he’d met Annie, ten years ago, they’d been working together in the dish room at one of Prosperino State College’s many cafeterias. A conveyor belt carried the dirty trays toward a giant dishwasher. Along the way, student workers would remove the silverware, the paper, and the glasses. Then the trays traveled to the garbage disposal where more student workers scraped the scraps and sprayed the dishes and loaded them into the mouth of the dishwasher. The machine would haul its load, in a never-ending car-wash style, to the other end where more workers would unload. It was a hot, dirty job, but it helped to pay the bills his scholarship wouldn’t cover.
Wyatt’s job had been to load the dishwasher.
Annie’s had been to make sure all the silverware was taken off the trays before they reached Wyatt.
Her first day on the job she’d grown flustered as the trays came speeding by and, when a piece of silverware had jammed the garbage disposal for the third time, Wyatt had gotten mad. Turning off the belt, he’d marched down to the silverware station brandishing a mangled spoon.
“What the hell is the problem down here? Any idiot should be able to handle pulling three lousy pieces of silverware off a passing tray.”
Eyes snapping with anger, Annie had tossed her wild coppery mane out of her face and fired a fistful of silverware at the soapy container at her side. “Hey, buddy, I’d like to see you get it all when the belt is going a hundred miles an hour.”
Enjoying the break, their more experienced co-workers had settled in to watch the show. At the same time, students attempting to turn their trays in poked their head into the dish room to see why the belt was off and what the shouting was about.
“Nobody else seems to have a problem keeping up.” Wyatt knew that wasn’t exactly true, but he’d had a hell of a day and with midterms coming up, he was in no mood to deal with this rookie.
“Baloney. Nobody wants this stupid job. That’s why I got it before the ink was dry on my application. This is my first day, so you can just cut me some slack!”
Wyatt stared at her. “This is your first day on the job and you’re yelling at me?”
“Yes!” The little veins stood out on her neck and she fairly pulsed with frustration.
The humor of the situation suddenly struck him and Wyatt threw back his head and started to laugh. Soon, everyone but Annie was laughing. Then, lips twitching, she’d cracked and they’d all howled until the boss came in to see why trays had stacked up waist deep in the cafeteria, just outside the dish room.
The next time Wyatt had seen Annie was at the time clock a week later on Valentine’s Day.
“Hi,” he said as she punched out. He glanced at her time card. “Annie.”
“Hi.” She glanced at the card he held. “Wylie.”
“Wyatt.”
“Whatever.”
She was a smart aleck. As casually as he could, Wyatt draped an arm over the time clock and winked. “So. It’s the fourteenth. Where’s my Valentine’s kiss?”
She snorted. “Are you off your rocker? I barely know you.”
“Aw, c’mon. We’ve already had our first fight. Surely it’s time to move on to a kiss.”
“Forget it.” Her smiling green eyes belied the stern tone of her voice.
“Just a little one.” He puckered up and waited.
She giggled. “Are you always so delusional?”
“You wound me.” He thrust out his lower lip and pretended to pout.
Noisily, she exhaled. “Okay. One kiss. On the cheek.”
He wasted no time in presenting his cheek. “I’ll take what I can get.”
As she stood on tiptoe to press her full lips to his cheek, Wyatt turned at the last instant and caught her lips with his own.
She’d recoiled and shrieked with laughter. “You cheater,” she squealed, “I can’t believe I fell for that old trick!”
In a flash, she spun on her heel and tore through the industrial kitchen, pushing stainless food carts in his way as he gave chase. Cat and mouse they ran and played, darting out of the kitchen and into the now nearly empty dining room.
“Come back,” Wyatt yelled.
“Never,” Annie yelled back.
He admired her spunk. She was fast for such a short little thing. As she plunged into the great outdoors and sped down the sidewalk toward the dorm across the street, Wyatt had shouted after her, causing passing students to stop and stare.
“Someday I’m gonna kiss you proper, Annie Summers, just wait and see.”
And