Page 25 of Forbidden Cowboy
Anna was excited that we would match, and her excitement made me happy. Of course, she was a cute kid, but when had I started caring for her deeply enough to get gratification from her happiness? The way I’d started considering her a part of my own family scared me, because what implications did that have for how I felt about Wyatt?
“Anna?” I called zipping my suitcase and walking out of the room.
“I’m almost done!” yelled the girl, and I followed her voice into her room.
I walked into her bedroom, and saw her trying to close her suitcase while things bulged out of the sides.
“Did you stick to the list I gave you?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “But then I added some things and now it won’t shut!”
“Okay,” I laughed as she climbed on top of the luggage. “Get down from there and let me help you.”
She did as I asked, and I carefully took all the clothes she’d thrown in haphazardly and folded them so they fit better. The biggest culprit appeared to be her little stuffed polar bear, Mr. Mouse, who I convinced her to just hold onto. I made a mental note to keep an eye on Mr. Mouse, because if he got lost somewhere, she’d be devastated.
My phone dinged, and I pulled it out to see a notification from the taxi company telling me they had arrived at the front door.
“Ready?” I asked Anna as I pulled her suitcase off the bed.
“Yes!”
* * *
“Anna, Sierra!” A familiar voice called out across the crowds of disembarking passengers.
Wyatt stood there, leaning against the bar in front of arrivals, a white board in his hands with our names on it like he was some sort of taxi service we had ordered.
“Dad!” Anna cried, and left her luggage with me as she launched herself at her father.
He picked her up with ease and spun her around. It was such a nice sight to see. Anna had missed Wyatt terribly for the few days we’d all been apart, and I suspected she had some not-so-little abandonment issues courtesy of her mother. I followed behind Anna with our bags.
“Hi,” I said.
What was I supposed to do? Wave awkwardly? Shake his hand? Maintain a solid three feet of distance between us at all times?
“Hey, Sierra,” Wyatt said. “Good to see you too!”
Like he was approaching a potentially dangerous dog, Wyatt stepped closer cautiously, and when I didn’t growl or bite, he tentatively opened his arms for a hug. Feeling like I was in some sort of surreal dream, I stepped forward into his embrace, and the moment his arms closed around me, I felt like I was home.
“I missed you,” I whispered.
It was so quiet, I wasn’t sure if he heard me, and he made no response. Hugging Wyatt felt comforting. He smelled like some soft aftershave that wasn’t overpowering but had notes of cedar in it, and even though he was in business clothes, he wore them like they were part of his everyday wardrobe—even if I knew otherwise. He definitely looked good, though. The soft blue shirt contrasted with his tan skin, and reminded me of the early morning sky on the ranch. The top button was undone, and I was distracted by the way his Adams’ apple bobbed when I pulled away from the hug.
“Welcome to New York City!” he said brightly to Anna and me, and his daughter cheered.
“I’m so excited,” she started gushing. “I want to go to The American Girl store and see a show on Broadway and…”
I spaced out as we turned towards the exit, just taking in everything around me. New York was stiflingly hot. I hadn’t anticipated that. It was also humid, and I felt my hair frizzing up almost as soon as we stepped out of the air-conditioned doors of JFK airport, and a self-conscious part of me lamented that Wyatt would be seeing me with such disastrous hair.
He led us to his rental car, a sleek shiny thing filled with all sorts of accoutrements and gadgets I wouldn’t ever understand. It looked like the kind of thing that existed only in the homes of rich content creators and playboy billionaires.
I had grown used to life at the ranch, which wasn’t humble by any means, but also didn’t reflect the sheer vastness of Wyatt’s wealth, and being confronted by a rental car that looked more like it belonged at NASA than at JFK was a stark reminder of what the man was worth. People stared as they passed the car, but neither Wyatt nor Anna paid them any mind. Of course, they were used to it. I should be getting used to the casual displays of wealth—a supercar as a rental, first class flights across the USA, even the humongous ranch that sprawled for hundreds of acres without interruption, but it was just… I wondered what the people passing were thinking of us.
I put them out of my mind, and instead took the opportunity while Wyatt slotted our bags into the small trunk to strip out of the sweater I had worn on the chilly plane and down to the fitted white t-shirt tucked into my jeans. Even Anna, who complained about being cold constantly, had pulled off the hoodie she had layered over her own t-shirt and jeans, and was settling into the back seat looking flushed and warm. I slid into the passenger side, and tried to ignore the way Wyatt looked at me when he got in the driver’s seat. He couldn’t look at me with some fire burning in his eyes and expect me to pretend I didn’t feel anything for him. I felt something like warmth pool in my belly, and I closed my eyes against it, focusing on the outside landscape until it went away.
The whole next twenty-four hours passed in some kind of dream. I had my own room, since the suite Wyatt had rented out only had a bed for him, and one for Anna, but while I had insisted we didn’t need another room and I could just sleep on the large and very comfortable sofa, Wyatt had refused and paid for another room. It felt a little strange to be staying there on his dime, given he was already paying me to look after Anna, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and once I saw the nightly cost of one room, I knew my own bank account wouldn’t last the three days we planned to be there. We went out to the American Girl store like Anna had begged, and she walked away with a brand new doll and a very happy expression on her face.
As a surprise, Eric Rinaldi, the son of Archie Rinaldi, and advocate for Valley View Ranch being the sole beef supplier forArchibald’s, the restaurant, had called Wyatt and asked if Anna would like to go to dinner and seeWickedon Broadway with him and his own daughter, Alia.