Must Be Wright (The Wrights 3)

The phone rang in her ear, and Gypsy glanced at Cooper before she headed into the back room again. He was lying on his side now on the floor, one arm under his head and the other pushing the car back and forth. He’d be asleep soon, no doubt.

She hefted the case of liquor and carried it back out to the bar.

“Yo,” a deep voice came over the line. “Pinky’s pornoporium, what’s your pleasure?”

Gypsy rolled her eyes and hoped she wasn’t talking to the Dale Goldstein whose application she was skimming. “You get points for impressive alliteration.”

“Impressive what?” His voice went high on the last word.

“Never mind. Can I speak to Dale, please?”

“This is Dale, and I love your voice. Say something dirty.”

Gypsy braced both hands on the edge of the bar. She was starting to believe that the odds of her finding a decent manager were right up there with seeing Bigfoot in the parking lot. “I’m calling about your résumé? That dirty enough for you?”

The sound of someone sucking air came over the line, followed by a stuttered and apologetic “Oh my God, I’m really sorry. I seriously was expecting my buddy to call, this is just a sick joke between us, I’m really sorry you got caught in that…”

Gypsy let out a long breath and tuned out the rest of his apology. Normally, she would just hang up, but she was getting down to the bottom of her résumé stack and feeling a little desperate. So she brushed aside the bad beginning and wandered through a few of her first-phase questions.

His experience didn’t sound bad, but it didn’t sound like what she was hoping for either. In three questions, she’d ascertained that he’d embellished his résumé and didn’t have near the background she needed. She was beginning to think she was going to have to train someone, and that felt like it would take longer than just doing the work herself.

Since she was on the fence with this guy, she asked a telling question. “So tell me about your criminal record.”

He’d put an X in the box indicating no criminal background, but she’d gotten this trick from another local bar owner, and it had proved useful countless times. The guilty always felt guilty.

Silence hung on the other end of the line before Dale sputtered an uncertain “Criminal—? I didn’t think— Look, that was all a big misunderstanding.”

Gypsy’s eyes closed. She might as well just fucking forget hiring a manager altogether. She opened her eyes and pulled in a breath to end the call and found herself staring at Wyatt as he entered the bar.

“I’ll give you a call back if I want to schedule an interview.” She disconnected.

Wyatt was wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and an old ballcap. And damn, without that flannel overshirt, his muscular torso stretched that cotton tee in all sorts of amazing ways.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Her body was definitely not connecting with her mind’s agenda of taking things between them down a notch.

His gaze scanned the bar and locked on her. A smile whipped across his face, his spine straightened, and he picked up his pace in long strides across the floor, coming at Gypsy with purpose. Her heart skittered around in a circle but couldn’t find any place to hide. Thankfully, he crossed paths with Cooper first, giving Gypsy a chance to find her emotional footing.

He stopped short and chuckled as he bent at the waist to look into Cooper’s eyes. “Hey there, buddy. Looks like all this racing wore you out.”

“Hi, Wyatt. I go to the doctor soon, then to my superhero camp.”

“That’s right,” he said, smiling. “That’s coming up, isn’t it?”

“Play cars with me?”

Wyatt eased into a crouch and smiled at Cooper while running his hand over Cooper’s head and giving his back a reassuring pat. The gesture was so sweet and so warm, it swelled Gypsy’s heart until it hurt.

“Maybe after I talk with your mama, okay?”

“‘K.”

But before Wyatt even reached the bar, Cooper had fallen asleep. Gypsy pulled out her earbud. “How did you get out of the child-rearing cage?”

Instead of stopping at the bar, his momentum picked up. He planted one hand on the bar one foot on the stool, and bolted the bar, landing right beside her. Gypsy took a step back and laughed. But Wyatt wrapped her in his arms and kissed her quiet.

His lips were warm and solid, his kiss full of the passion they’d shared several nights ago, threatening to shatter all Gypsy’s good intentions. He felt amazing. Warm and strong. Like someone to lean on. Like someone who cared about her.

And with his mouth on hers, Gypsy couldn’t remember why she kept telling herself to push back.