Pursued by Him (Wanted Series #4) Read online

  “Fancy a drink?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Sophie is OK.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Call me.”

  But none of those had the right tone.

  In the end, I decided based on her number of connections that I probably wasn’t the only person trying to get her attention. So I needed to do something to stand out. Eventually, I settled on a classified ad I didn’t think she’d be able to refuse.

  “Smart ass handy man seeks sophisticated handsy woman. Call Wyatt at 278-889-8565 for a good time.”

  I wanted to take more time getting it right, but when I saw Sophie coming down the hall in her little pink scrubs on her rolling bed, I hit send and shoved my phone in my pocket.

  “Hi honey,” I said, standing up.

  Her usual color had returned to her cheeks and she was holding a yellow lollipop. “Hi Dad,” she said, waving her hand so fast I thought her fingers might fly off her wrist.

  “Hannah,” I said, smiling at the woman whose presence I’d come to associate with my daughter’s consciousness.

  “Mr. Jones,” she said, backing the bed up in between my chair and several high-tech looking trollies. “You should be very proud of Sophie. She did a great job with all her tests today.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” I said. “Were these part of the tests?” I asked, pointing to the colorful row of band-aids along her arm.

  Sophie nodded. “I had to name every prick.”

  “And did any of them hurt?”

  She pointed to the Cinderella band-aid. “The one I named after Gigi pinched a little, but the rest were okay.”

  “Did you name one after me?” I asked.

  She nodded and pointed to The Little Mermaid band-aid. “Yes, this one.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “The first one?”

  She shrugged. “It was either you or my camp counselor, Ashley, but I thought you might be luckier.”

  I smiled.

  Hannah took a break from hooking up tubes to look towards me. “The results of the tests so far look great, Mr. Jones. I can’t say for sure until I get a second opinion, but if I had to guess, I’d say you’ll be able to take Sophie home before the end of the weekend.”

  Sophie raised her eyebrows.

  “That’s great news,” I said, nudging her shoulder. “Hear that kiddo? We’ll be out of here in no time.”

  “I’ll send some lunch down for Sophie shortly,” Hannah said, looking between us. “Any special requests?”

  “Anything but grape juice,” she said, crinkling her face.

  I nodded and felt a buzz in my pocket. I pulled my phone out hoping it would be a note from Addison. But it was a text from Marv, reminding me that he needed my new song in the next forty-eight to give it the best shot.

  I sighed.

  When I looked up, Hannah was gone and the round faced nurse was standing there with a bouquet of flowers.

  “Special delivery for Sophie Jones,” she said, setting them on the counter near the head of her bed.

  I watched the Get Well Soon Balloon bounce against the coiled equipment and moveable lights as it righted itself over the arrangement.

  Sophie clapped her little hands together so fast they didn’t quite line up. “Ooh! Who are they from?”

  The nurse pulled a white card from a clear plastic stick and handed it to me across the bed.

  I would’ve bet anything they were from Karen.

  But they weren’t.

  They were from Addison.

  “Well?” Sophie asked, sitting up straight against her pillows.

  “They’re from a friend of mine.”

  “Which friend?”

  “The one I was with when I found out you were on your way to the hospital.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Do I know them?”

  I turned the rigid white card over in my hands. Addison’s phone number was written across the back.

  “Not yet,” I said. “But hopefully you will very soon.”

  Chapter 8: Addison

  I was sweating at my desk when I remembered about the flowers.

  Whether I was sweating from my hangover or the fact that I was about to walk into the most important meeting of my life to date was debatable, but either way, my head hurt so bad I couldn’t even tell if I was having chest pains.

  Was that tacky to include my number? I hoped not. I mean, I guess I would know pretty quickly whether Wyatt thought so based on whether or not he called. Whatever. It was the right thing to do, the least I could do.

  Regardless of the fate of our relationship.

  But all women liked flowers, right? So why would little girls be any different?

  Or at least that was one of Holly’s arguments… one of the few I remember.

  I couldn’t believe how shitty I felt. Had I really had that much to drink? How could I have drank so much when my mouth was so full of praise for the random guy I just met?

  And poor Holly. Not only was her summer work party tonight, but it was on the Hudson. I couldn’t imagine. Just the thought of going on a boat ride was enough to turn my stomach.

  Unless, of course, it was a boat ride with Wyatt.

  But I seriously needed to stop thinking about how he made me feel like a teenager for a minute. Because I needed to focus on feeling like a big girl with a big girl job so I could convince my colleagues that not only was I the one that deserved to be promoted to partner, but that they would be lucky if they got picked to work alongside me on the project I’d landed.

  I was blotting my forehead with a tissue when the folder got shoved in my face.

  “What’s this?” I asked, taking it as I looked up at Martine.

  “The agenda for today’s meeting,” she said. “Thought I’d deliver it myself in case you didn’t catch up on all your emails yet.”

  I furrowed my face. “Who made this?”

  “Debbie and Chris.”

  My blood was boiling so hot I thought I might pop a blood vessel in my eye. “Thanks.”

  Martine leaned forward. “I’m rooting for you in there,” she said. “I don’t trust Chris any farther than I can see him.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m skeptical of most men with tiny penises.”

  I would’ve spit out my coffee if there had been any in my mouth. “Wait- what?”

  But she was already gone.

  Did she sleep with him? Did Deborah? Was he sleeping his way to the top? How the hell was I supposed to compete with that using nothing but PowerPoint and words? Fuck. At least Martine seemed to have my back, though it was unsettling that I didn’t know how many people didn’t.

  Fucking Chris. I wouldn’t have pegged him for having a tiny penis.

  And suddenly I was thinking about Wyatt again and his so not tiny penis.

  God he was good.

  I sort of wished I was with him right now, that I could talk to him for just a second so I could feel sharp walking into my meeting instead of soggy like the lime at the bottom of my last vodka tonic last night.

  What the fuck was I doing getting drunk? Was I really so messed up over this guy? Over this job? Over this little girl I desperately wished I could picture doing something besides seizuring in her hospital bed?

  Ugh.

  I flipped through the agenda notes. I had enough time to go over them at least once before the meeting. And hopefully enough time to stop sweating. Maybe I could pull it off, as long as I wasn’t blindsided by anything else.

  I slipped my heels off and set my feet on the thin carpet under my desk. Then I took a deep breath, clicked the Outlook icon on my computer, and started scanning my most recent mail for anything strange.

  I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but with any luck, I might have some news from my client about our project that would give me a leg up.

  And then there it was: Wyatt Jones would like to add you to his professional netwo
rk.

  I clicked on it immediately, unable to help myself.

  As soon as I saw the private message, the first smile I’d released all day spread across my face.

  So it wasn’t over. He did want to see me again. Or at least, he wanted me to call him… “for a good time.”

  I stared at the phone number on the screen.

  Had he and Sophie gotten the flowers yet?

  I looked at the clock.

  They should’ve received them alright, but not before the timestamp on the email...

  Did he miss me already?

  I leaned back in my chair and stared at his name on the screen. Wyatt Jones. I shook my head. An excited feeling flooded my body at the thought of hearing his voice again, at the thought of seeing him, touching him, smelling him.

  I looked out the door of my office at the clean shaven, suited men with their broad shoulders moving around the office. But they looked different than they usually did. Less manly perhaps.

  I’d bet my life none of them could build and stain a porch anyway, or lay their tongue on that secret place between my legs and-

  I took a deep breath. Okay. That’s enough.

  I didn’t have time to call him now. I had to focus on my meeting. Had. To. Focus.

  I could call him later.

  Or maybe I should just put his number in my phone really quickly so I didn’t forget. Ha. Yeah, right. As if I could forget the first man that ever pissed me off in a good way.

  I pressed the digits and let my thumb hover over the call button.

  But I hit save instead. Then I entered his name and released the breath I was holding.

  Okay. That was something.

  I mean, I knew he wasn’t my boyfriend or anything, but it was kind of great to have a man’s number in my phone who I was actually nervous about calling, who was actually insanely attractive, and who actually made me forget what a ball of stress I was.

  And who actually wanted to hear from me!

  And not only that, but he wanted me to get “handsy.”

  Did I have butterflies?

  Or was I just about to puke up the bagel with cream cheese I ate this morning?

  I swallowed and rolled my shoulders back.

  I don’t know if it was the fact that I suddenly had something to look forward to or the fact that Chris didn’t seem so intimidating when I thought about Wyatt and the way his sweat rolled down his chest past his belt buckle, but I felt lifted in a way that was as welcome as it was unfamiliar.

  I set my phone down on my desk and closed out my email.

  Then I took a deep breath. I could do this. Or at the very least, I could avoid disgracing myself in front of the person I most needed to impress and the person I most loathed.

  This was just another opportunity to fight my corner, to fight for what I wanted and had worked so hard for.

  And there was nothing in the world I was better at.

  Chris may have made the fucking agenda, but he wasn’t going to lead me through a meeting when I’d soon be his superior.

  I would walk in there, refreshed from my too few days away and tell Chris and Deborah how things were going to go in the most professional way I could. And if I had to run on adrenaline the whole time to get through it, that’s just what I’d do.

  Cause it was just a meeting.

  And if little Sophie could fight her way through a coma, I sure as hell could fight my way through this.

  Chapter 9: Wyatt

  I sat down on the metal bench and turned the card over in my hand. When I looked up, the smoker I was waiting on stubbed his cigarette out, dropped it in the dish on top of the stumpy garbage can next to his bench, and headed back inside.

  As soon as the hospital door clicked behind him, I looked to see if anyone else was around. The parking lot had thinned out since my last break for fresh air and the cars leaving now were visible only by their low hanging headlights as they made their way towards the exit.

  I dialed Addison’s number and watched the outline of a traitless face appear on the screen in front of me. My mind filled in the blanks- her full red hair, her light pink lips, her smooth, pale skin.

  Pick up pick up pick up.

  “Hello?” She sounded sleepy, like she wasn’t totally convinced she’d actually wanted to pick up the phone.

  “Addison.”

  “Wyatt?”

  My name on her lips made my chest tighten, and I pressed the phone harder against my ear. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, yeah-”

  “And Sophie?”

  I smiled. “She’s good, thanks. She woke up and-”

  “I know.”

  “How did you-”

  “I came to the hospital.”

  “When?”

  “Yesterday morning on my way back to the city.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “I thought maybe I’d catch you, too, but-”

  “I was at the cabin.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Looking for you.”

  “You went to the cabin?”

  “I needed to see you and thank you and-”

  “Thank me for what?”

  “For staying with me.”

  “But I left.”

  “I know, but I shouldn’t have asked you to come in the first place so the fact that you stayed so long really meant a lot to-”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t do more to help.”

  “Sophie liked the flowers.”

  “I’m glad,” she said. “I figured every girl does so-”

  “Did I wake you up? I know it’s late-”

  “No. I’m glad you called. I just.” She took a deep breath. “I fell asleep on the couch after work-”

  “Long day?”

  “Maybe compared to anyone but you.”

  I wished she was there beside me on the bench. I wanted to tilt her chin up towards me and drag my lips across hers, keeping my tongue to myself until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call you as soon as I got your message,” she said. “I just had kind of a hectic day and-”

  “What happened to the rest of your vacation?”

  She sighed.

  It was a tired sigh, a sigh that reminded me of how tired I was of missing her. I wished I was beside her on the couch, lifting her feet into my lap and draping my hand over her smooth shin.

  “It got called off,” she said. “Just when I was starting to enjoy myself.”

  I nodded. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “I am, yeah.”

  “I don’t know if you got my note-”

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “What did it say?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual. I mentioned you could call me for a good time.”

  “And what makes you think I’d want to do that?”

  “I thought we had fun together,” I said, letting my eyes follow the lights up the path towards the hospital. “Or were you just using me for my body?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “As long as I get to use you back.”

  Silence.

  “Addison?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why did you leave without saying good bye?”

  “When?”

  “At the hospital the other morning? After my family showed up?”

  “I didn’t want to intrude,” she said.

  “But you weren’t intruding,” I said. “I wanted you here.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?”

  I ran a hand over my head. “I guess I didn’t think I had to.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “If I’d realized you wanted me to stay I would’ve, but I figured you had enough on your plate without trying to entertain me.”

  “Don’t you get it?”

  “Get what?”

  “You’re the entertaining one.”
<
br />   She scoffed.

  “Honestly, you’re the funniest woman I’ve ever met.”

  “Well, I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, Wyatt, but funny isn’t one of them.”

  “Sexy then. Or smart. Irresistible as hell. Take your pick.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “Are you seeing anyone?” I asked.

  “Seeing anyone?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I’m not sure I do.”

  I sighed. “Are you fucking any other guys you’re excited about?”

  “Jesus.”

  “Well?”

  “No,” she said. “Not that I’m excited about. Why?”

  “Cause I want to see you again.”

  “Wyatt-”

  “What? What’s that tone?”

  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

  “Really? Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

  “Maybe.”

  “That’s a joke, Addison. I’m joking. Not about seeing you again, though. I’m serious about that.”

  “I think we both have too much going on,” she said. “Between me being up for a promotion and you having a daughter and-”

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t use my daughter as an excuse. Only I get to do that.”

  “Fair enough,” she said. “But I can’t be anyone’s mom.”

  “I’m not asking you to be someone’s mom. What the hell?”

  “What are you asking me then?”

  “I’m asking you to go out with me again because you’re the first woman whose company I’ve truly enjoyed in years.”

  “Is that supposed to sweep me off my feet?” she asked.

  “Yeah, actually it is. I don’t know what world you’re living in, but where I come from, people appreciate honesty.”

  “Well, I’m trying to be honest with you, okay? And the truth is, I don’t have time for a relationship.”

  “You don’t have time for a relationship or you don’t have time for me?”

  “It’s not you, I swear. I just can’t-”

  “Can’t what?”

  “I can’t drop everything and role play sexy woodsman with you.”

  I smiled. “Are you calling me a sexy woodsman?”

  She sighed. “I suppose compared to the average man I meet during the day, you are one.”