The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen’s Cove Series Book 2)

I WOKE up a few mornings later with a smile on my face, Hannah in my arms, and the sun streaming into the bedroom.

And I thought surfing was heaven.

She was still sleeping, curled up against me, her chest rising and falling softly, and I studied her face, replaying the past few nights with her under me in bed, writhing and gasping.

I had always enjoyed making women come. Seeing a woman’s pleasure turned me on, but with Hannah, it was more.

It was ecstasy. It was all I thought about. I was showing her a new side of sex she hadn’t experienced before, and when she grabbed my hand and squeezed it as she came, she showed me a new side, too. I craved seeing her lose her mind and enjoy herself. I wanted to leave my imprint on her, on both her body and her mind.

I wanted to leave a lasting impression.

My throat tightened. For who? I didn’t want anyone else to touch her ever again. But I didn’t know what to do with that thought.

Hannah. Husband. Hannah. Pregnant. The nurse’s words had been playing in my head on a loop since we left the ER all those days ago. They played as she napped on the couch yesterday. They played as we sat around the dinner table with my family, everyone laughing and talking with her and welcoming her with open arms. And they played last night as I fell into the deepest sleep.

With Hannah, those words didn’t sound like they used to. Before her, they didn’t apply to me. They were for someone else. But when I watched her sleep beside me, my heart ached for those words. Hannah living here. Moving all her books in, them taking up space everywhere in organized piles and filling up bookcases. The thought made me smile.

Deep in my chest, something cold and sharp poked me. My summer with my aunts flashed into my head. This thing with Hannah wouldn’t last. She’d bring her light, happiness, and radiance into my home and then she’d leave, it would be over, and I’d be left with a hole in my life. Like my Aunt Bea. Like Hannah’s dad.

I swallowed. I wasn’t going to worry about it now.

I slid out of bed, careful not to wake her, and padded to the kitchen, stretching and opening the fridge.

Twenty minutes later, she wandered in with a cute, sleepy expression on her face and rumpled hair. I grinned at her from my place in front of the stove and she stepped up behind me and slipped her arms around me.

Yeah, she wasn’t leaving. Not when I could have her like this, all comfortable and sleepy and sweet.

“What are you doing?” Her mouth brushed the bare skin of my shoulder.

“Making breakfast. You want a coffee?”

She nodded and I reached for a mug.

“I can get it.” She shot me a smile and poured herself a cup before taking a seat at the kitchen island. “Let’s go surfing today.”

Hesitation twisted in me and I made a face. My gaze snagged on her forehead. I frowned at it.

“Wyatt.” She rolled her eyes.

I crossed my arms over my chest and wandered over to the living room. Out the window, the water sparkled in the early morning light.

She stepped up beside me. “We don’t have to do the big waves today. We can take it easy. I want to get out there with you.” Her eyes pleaded and her pretty mouth curled into a smile. “It’s the perfect way to start the day.”

I sighed. “I can’t say no to you.” I pulled her into my chest and we watched the water for a moment before heading back to the kitchen.

After we had eaten, we changed into our swimsuits but got distracted. We fell back into bed, reaching for each other and getting each other naked again. I couldn’t get enough of touching her. Her smooth skin, her soft curves, the way her breath hitched when I touched her nipples or squeezed her ass or scored her neck with my teeth, it drove me insane. It was everything I wanted and yet never enough. I could never have enough of her.

We hadn’t gone all the way yet. I wanted more than anything to sink my aching cock into her warm, wet core while she squeezed me the way she had squeezed my fingers each time she came, but something held me back.

She wasn’t ready.

Maybe I wasn’t ready.

Which made no sense. Sex wasn’t a big deal to me.

I guess with her, it was. It wasn’t just me in this. It was her too, and I wanted to make sure she didn’t do anything just because I wanted her to. She had to want it for herself. She had to ask for it.

We finally made it out onto the water, paddling straight to the cove we hung out in after surf lessons.

She stretched out on her board and closed her eyes. Her mouth turned up in an expression of contentment. “If I were more cynical, I might think that you wanted to fool around this morning so I wouldn’t put up a fight about no surfing.” She opened one eye at me and I grinned.

“I will always want to fool around with you, bookworm.”

We watched each other for a moment, floating there, bobbing up and down in the water, and something passed through our gazes. Something warm, languid, comfortable, and understanding. My heart tugged toward hers and I swallowed with a thick throat.

A splash nearby stole our attention and she lifted her head with a frown. We saw them at the same time.

“Oh my god.” She jerked up and her board swayed in the water, threatening to tip.

“Stay still.” My voice was calm and I reached out to take her hand. “Stay where you are and breathe.”

She gripped my hand and we watched the black fins skim through the water fifty feet away.

“Are they going to attack?”

I laughed softly. “No, they’re just curious.”

The pod of orcas swam closer and she squeezed my hand.

“I’m scared.” Her voice was a shaky whisper.

I kept my tone calm and steady for her. “They’re not going to hurt us. They’re coming to say hi.” My thumb stroked back and forth on the back of her hand. “I’ve got you.”

One of the orcas blew out a breath and Hannah inhaled sharply. My gaze swung between the orcas in the water and her astonished expression. Her eyes were wide and her mouth parted. Neither of us would forget this moment. I’d seen orcas before in the water—they migrated up to the coast every summer and the town ran whale-watching tours—but never this close, and never with someone like Hannah squeezing my hand.

After a few moments, the whales grew bored or hungry and swam away. Hannah exhaled a long breath and lay back on her board, staring at the sky.

“Holy.”

My mouth lifted in a grin. “You okay?”

“Uh huh.” She glanced at me with bright eyes and a smile grew on her pretty mouth. “That was so cool!”

I nodded at her, smiling. My chest was tight and I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she watched the surface for more.

We floated out there for an hour before heading back in.

“I’m going to open up the store,” she told me as we stepped inside the house. I started to protest but she held up a hand. “If my head hurts, I’ll come home. I promise.”

I nodded, my mouth set in a firm line. She had referred to my place as home, and that might have been the only reason I let it go. “Okay.” I cleared my throat. “I was thinking…”

She raised an eyebrow. “Mhm?”

“We’re going on a date tonight.” I stepped up to her and put my hands on her upper arms. One hand skimmed up her shoulder and played with the strap of her swimsuit. She shivered under my touch and I grinned.

“A date?” Her eyebrows lifted. “Where?”

“Let me handle that.” I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her neck.

She made a soft moan. “Wyatt. I can’t think when you do that.”

I huffed a laugh against her skin and kissed her again. “Be ready for seven.” I thought about her sitting in The Arbutus by herself, wearing a pretty dress. “Wear something that makes you feel beautiful.”

THAT EVENING, I finished up at the surf shop, locked the door, and walked to my parents’ place. That was one of the things I loved about Queen’s Cove—nothing was more than a half-hour walk away. The evening was warm and while I walked, I thought about Hannah. I thought about this morning in my bed, about last night in my bed, about seeing the pod of orcas, about how the second she left for the bookstore, my home felt empty.

“Hello again,” my dad called as I stepped into his workshop. He lifted his safety goggles and gave me a big grin.

“What are you working on?”

“Your mom thought the community center could use a new bench.” He gestured at the plywood he was measuring. “We’re going to put it in front of the walkway, near the rose garden.” He took his gloves off and gestured for me to follow him. “Come on.”

I followed him out of the workshop, through the backyard where we all sat last night, to the kitchen.

“It sure was nice to have Hannah here the other night,” he said, standing at the sink and washing his hands.

“She had fun.”

He continued washing his hands. I liked this about my dad. He said his piece and left it. I appreciated the restraint. I knew where he stood but he didn’t push. I was grateful, because there were a lot of thoughts at the forefront of my brain, confusing thoughts, and if I started talking, I might say a lot more than I meant to.

“You want to borrow the Porsche?”

I frowned. “How did you know?”

My dad was not a materialistic guy. My mom bought most of his clothes. He wasn’t showy or flashy. He valued his family, his community, working in his workshop during the day and drinking a cold beer with my mom in evenings on the patio he had built himself.

But he had this car.

He bought it when my brothers and I were teenagers. For years, he searched for a specific make, model, and color, and when it was finally available, he called the guy that day, test drove it, and rolled it into our garage.

He loved that vintage, emerald green Porsche 911. He forbade my brothers and I from driving it. In our mid-twenties, he had allowed us to drive it while he sat in the passenger seat. This car was his fifth child.

I had come here today with the intention of asking him to borrow it for my date with Hannah tonight. I wanted to make her feel special. I wanted her to know she was worthy of effort and something memorable.

His mouth hitched into a grin as he dried his hands on a tea towel. “You have that look about you.”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

He moved to the cupboard and pulled down a glass. “Water?”

I shook my head. “No thanks.”

He turned the tap on to fill the glass.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What look?”

The grin on his face was ear to ear. “Same one Emmett had last year.”

My heart wrenched in my chest. I wanted that with Hannah. Hearing it from my dad, the possibility of having what Emmett and Avery had, it choked me up with a mix of feelings. I waded through them in my head but they clouded my mind.

My dad clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t overthink it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t talk yourself out of it. Trust your instincts.”

Holden walked into the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

I snorted. “What are you doing here?”

“Mom said the tap was leaking in the guest bathroom.”

I made a face and pointed at our dad. “Why can’t Dad fix it?”

My dad shrugged. “She likes to create problems for Holden to solve to lure him over for lunch.”

A laugh burst out of me and Holden scowled. “Are you fucking kidding?” he asked.

My dad’s tone was warning. “Don’t tell her I told you that.”

Holden grunted and rolled his eyes. “I won’t.”

My dad opened the drawer where he kept the car keys and tossed them to me. Holden watched with a frown.

I caught them and leaned against the counter, crossing my arms at Holden. “Jeeze, no wonder half the women in town are afraid of you with a mug like that.”

He frowned deeper, gaze snagging on the keys in my hand. My dad started pulling things out of the fridge in preparation for dinner.

“Say it.” Defensiveness clawed up my throat. If he said one negative thing about Hannah or whatever we were doing, I didn’t know how I’d react.

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, the tension easing a fraction from his features. “It was nice to have Hannah here for dinner.”

The fight left me. “Oh. Yeah.”

“You’re clearly head over fucking heels for her so don’t fuck it up.”

I choked out a laugh. “I’m not going to fuck it up.”

Holden snorted. “Okay.”

“We’re…” My voice trailed off and both my dad and brother stared at me, waiting.

“You’re what?” Holden asked.

“Hanging out.” The second I said it, it felt wrong, like a lie. I frowned. I had told her I thought about us married, about her pregnant. That I was falling for her.

How could I explain it to them, though? If I said it out loud, it was real. Panic rose in me, tightening around my chest. “I have to go.” I backed out of the kitchen and held the keys up to my dad. “I’ll return it in the morning. Thanks.”

He waved me off and Holden watched with a skeptical expression.

In the garage, I lifted the protective sheet off the car, started it up, and eased it out of the garage.

As I drove through the streets of Queen’s Cove, waving to people I recognized, I thought about my aunts. Aunt Bea used to bring Aunt Rebecca coffee in bed in the mornings. I remembered her moving around the kitchen that was now mine, humming to herself, pouring coffee and adding cream right up to the rim.

The day she dropped Aunt Rebecca off at the care facility, her sobs traveled through the bedroom door. I had grabbed my board and left because I couldn’t bear to listen.

In the Porsche, I passed The Arbutus as Avery walked out and her mouth dropped when she spotted me in the car. She pointed at me.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

The bookworm’s beaming smile flashed into my head and my throat knotted. Fuck.

Husband. Pregnant.

When I spoke with the agent on the phone, the agent had told me to plan to be away for most of the year. “Oh yeah,” she had said. “When you’re not competing or training, you’ll be doing work with sponsors. You should get a roommate or someone to watch your place.”

Hannah could move into my place while I was away. I could come home to her in my bed.

And expect her to wait for me? A couple times a year, drop my bags at the door and pull her to my chest, show her how much she meant to me before I left the next week?

Have her put her life on hold for me? Her life had been on hold for years. Finally, she was living for herself, taking big swings and going for what she wanted.

And I wanted to keep her here waiting for me, suspended in time like a butterfly under glass in a museum. My throat was a knot when I swallowed.

I couldn’t do that to her. She wanted true love. So I had to either let her go, or—

I almost drove off the road when the idea rose in my head.

She could come with me.

I had pictured it before, us laughing over chips and salsa at a made-up Mexican restaurant in Northern California. She could do a lot of her work online, like ordering, social media marketing, and payroll. She could hire help for the store.

She could come with me.

My mouth kicked up in a smile.

Tonight. I’d ask her tonight when I took her out on a date.

The house was quiet when I arrived. Hannah had texted me that she was going to stop by her place to get a few things, so I suggested I pick her up there. Even through text, I could tell the idea made her excited.

I had never been on a real date, I realized. I had met women at bars for drinks and had hookups, but never gone to the effort to take someone special out with the intention of making them happy.

The idea of making Hannah happy made my heart swell.

I showered, threw product in my hair, and put on a nice shirt. Emerald green, like the car. Maybe it was too matchy. Whatever. I looked good in this shirt, and I wanted to look good for Hannah.

I drove over to her place with my pulse in my ears. My fingers drummed a beat against the steering wheel in anticipation. It had been what, less than eight hours since I’d seen her? And already I couldn’t wait.

Head over fucking heels for her.

Something caught my eye in front of the corner store, and I pulled over and parked without thinking, heading back to the car a few minutes later with my purchase.

I pulled up in front of Hannah’s house, grabbed the flowers, and knocked on the door. I tensed and flexed my free hand at my side. This nervous simmer in my stomach was rare for me. I couldn’t remember the last night I felt jittery and excited like this.

Relax, I told myself. It’s Hannah.

She opened it and shot me that shy smile I loved so much. My heart rose into my throat.

She wore a sparkly gold dress that hit her mid-thigh. It had a V-neck with a little cleavage. Smooth, tanned skin. Freckles stood out on her face and her pretty eyes glowed with excitement. Her hair fell loose around her face, wavy from the water this morning.

I’d remember the look on her face until my dying breath. She was lit from within, radiant like a fucking goddess, chewing her lip with a hint of hesitation but her eyes danced, like she knew what she was doing to me.

My breath caught in my chest.

Head over fucking heels indeed.