Coming Home by Leslie Kelly

going to have to do some serious re-evaluating. Because anybody with a brain in their head could look at her little boy and see who he belonged to.
    Them. Both of them.
    Whether Wyatt was ready to admit it or not.
     
    Wyatt had reached the end of Doc Ross' driveway, ready to speed like a demon in order to drive thoughts of Nicole out of his head, when he spotted her clothes behind the passenger seat.
    "Damn," he muttered.
    He was tempted to just hold onto them, give them back to her another time when he felt more calm. But, he didn't think she'd want to be without her new leather work boots.
    Turning the truck around, he parked in the driveway. He grabbed her things. Her lacy bra slipped out from the inside of the shirt and landed on his lap. Wyatt gritted his teeth as he retrieved it. He allowed himself about ten seconds to enjoy the silky feel of the thing, and the thought of the high curve of her breasts, before he jumped out of the truck and bounded up the outside steps. The screen door was shut, but the inside door stood open, probably forgotten in Nicole's haste to rush to the phone to her psycho mother.
    Wyatt stopped, his hand on the knob, as he heard Nicole’s voice. She was apparently still on the phone.
    "I miss you so much. I love you, baby."
    Her words hit him like tiny sharp stones, tearing chunks from his flesh much as she'd been torn up at the beach that day. Because that did not sound like a conversation anybody would have with a parent.
    How could she possibly still have such power over him? He didn't understand it, but neither did he dispute it. Nicole Ross had had him in the palm of her hand for years. She still had the power to hurt him. The thought infuriated him.
    Nicole must have heard him because she quickly glanced over and caught his eye. Wyatt stared at her steadily. Through the shadow of the screen, he saw her mouth tighten in a frown and waited for her to finish her conversation.
    "Okay, right, I'll talk to you soon, Justin. Give my mom my love, okay?”
    Wyatt tightened his jaw when he heard her mention her mother. He could not even think of that woman without feeling anger. He imagined Justin got along with her just fine...he was probably one of her own kind, rich, arrogant. The kind of man Nicole's mother had told him her daughter would marry. That was just before she shut the door to her mansion in his face. Just after she'd ripped his heart out of his body with a few callous words.
    "You forgot your clothes," he said as Nicole opened the screen door to her father’s house and ushered him inside.
    "Thank you for returning them," she murmured. "I didn't think to grab them, I guess I was anxious to get to the phone."
    “Yeah, I heard,” he muttered. He turned to leave, not trusting himself to stand talking to her anymore.
    "You must be curious about him,” she said softly before he could walk out.
    Wyatt paused, stiffened and glanced at her over his shoulder.
    "No. Not the least bit." He saw the blood drain from her face. Good. Let her know he didn't give a damn about her lover...boyfriend...whatever he was.
    "How can you be so cold?" she whispered.
    "Cold?" he retorted angrily as he turned again to face her. Wyatt couldn't believe she had the nerve to accuse him of being cold. He took a step back toward her and noticed she pulled away from him. "You didn't think I was cold this afternoon, did you. God knows you weren't...you were so hot I thought you were going to pull me down on top of you right on that public beach. What would Justin think about that?"
    Nicole shrunk back, obviously intimidated by his anger. He saw tears sparkle in her eyes, which only fanned his fury. What right did she have to cry? She'd thrown away all rights to him years before. She'd thrown everything away.
    Before Wyatt could think about it, he grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her against his chest, practically lifting her off the floor. He caught her mouth in a harsh kiss, almost wanting to hurt her, to