Must Be Wright (The Wrights 3)

Wyatt leaned against the wall, dropped his head back, and closed his eyes. He’d have to go to the police in the morning. He’d already called, but they’d said that unless there were suspicious circumstances involved in Francie’s disappearance, Wyatt would have to wait to put in a missing person’s report. Evidently, bailing on your daughter’s birthday party didn’t fall in their “suspicious” category.

He hoped his mother was right. Hoped Francie had just been in need of some mommy-time, but his thoughts aligned with Gypsy’s. Disappearing without telling anyone and without making any solid plans for how her daughter would be cared for was the very definition of abandonment.

He wasn’t thrilled wit

h the realization that his parents had been enabling Francie’s behavior, but he’d have to deal with that when they returned from their cruise.

All he could do now was keep Belle entertained and safe until her mother returned. But he was no more prepared to do that than he was to smooth the waters with Gypsy. And he was all too aware that being so pampered on the road with assistants and chefs and coordinators and managers and security had robbed him of his ability to deal with adversity.

Wyatt stepped up to the door and turned the knob, opening the door quietly in case Belle was asleep. His gaze landed on Gypsy’s desk first, which looked like a cyclone had just passed through. Following the inward swing of the door, he saw the entire office was a mirror of her desk. He stared at the boxes stacked on top of each other, banners haphazardly tossed over chairs, shelves stuffed with a mishmash of office supplies.

He was momentarily dumbfounded. This didn’t look like Gypsy at all. She had always been militant about the bar’s organization and cleanliness. She was a marketing wiz, a genius with the books. Every part of the business’s façade was tailored for a kickass image, right down to the coasters she put beneath everyone’s drinks.

This, Wyatt didn’t understand at all.

His gaze landed on a love seat in the far corner, and all the tension inside him eased. Gypsy and Belle sat together in the center. There was a kids’ book in Belle’s lap and her head lay on Gypsy shoulder. Gypsy’s head lay against Belle’s, and they were both asleep.

Wyatt leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb while crazy things happened inside him. Sparks flew, then melted. His stomach dropped, then floated. His heart squeezed, then released and filled.

And all he could do was stare.

Wow.

If he hadn’t already been crazy about Gypsy, he would have tumbled head over heels right now. She might not have been happy about it, but she’d selflessly put the needs of a little girl she didn’t even know above her own. This woman was even more incredible than he’d thought, and he was damn sure she’d be able to walk on water if she put her mind to it.

He made his way their direction and crouched in front of the sofa. Gypsy’s maternal side was seriously sexy. Wyatt had always known she was more bark than bite, but when she was with Cooper, or now with Belle, her heart glowed like a neon sign. And damn but she was beautiful. Her smooth face relaxed in sleep, long eyelashes curved against blushed cheeks, the swell of her breasts rising and falling as she breathed.

An emotion he couldn’t immediately identify flared in his chest, burning along his ribs. Stronger than attraction, deeper than affection. He’d never been in love, so he couldn’t say that was what he was feeling, but whatever it was made him want to back away slowly, the way one would from a hungry mountain lion. This woman had the ability to chew him up and spit him out. But he couldn’t look away. He hadn’t been able to look away for going on three years.

And, going on three years, she’d adamantly refused to get involved with any man, all so she could put Cooper first. She wore her priorities on her sleeve. She was up front and adamant about what she wanted and needed. And it wasn’t Wyatt.

He loved touring and entertaining and traveling. He loved his band and his crew. And he’d seen firsthand how his absence could damage the people he loved. His thoughts drifted to Brody, and his heart grew heavy with loss and guilt. So much guilt. Wyatt hadn’t been there for his brother, and he’d gone and killed himself. Wyatt had missed something important with Francie, and she’d abandoned her child.

No, Wyatt wasn’t fit for anything more than he had. And Gypsy deserved so much more.

Wyatt laid a hand on her knee and watched her lids flutter before her beautiful green eyes focused on him. All her anger from earlier was gone, leaving only a sleepy, sexy, remarkable woman. His gaze lowered to her mouth, and his mind drifted to the fantasy of feeling it under his own. Her tongue slid along her lips as she straightened, and all Wyatt’s blood flowed south.

“Hey.” Gypsy blinked and glanced around the office. “What time is it? Please tell me it’s time to close the bar.”

“Sorry, sugar, it’s only eleven.”

She closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the sofa, as if she couldn’t bear to think about moving. “Have you heard from your sister-in-law?”

“No. I’ll head to the police station in the morning to file a missing person’s report.”

She met his eyes with sympathy in her own. “This is so sad. She’s so sweet.”

He nodded and let his gaze slide to Belle’s face. She looked like Francie when she slept, but he saw a lot of Brody in her when she was awake—her eyes, her smile, her mannerisms. “She’s a great kid.”

“I don’t know if I ever told you about my mom.”

“Only that she was an addict.”

Gypsy nodded. She rocked her shoulders and sat straighter, trying to wake up. “She disappeared all the time. It creates feelings that are hard to describe. Like you’re living on a trap door that would drop open without warning.” She stroked Belle’s hair. “When it happens enough, it makes you feel like you’re the one that’s bad. Like you’re not worth staying for or that you’re unlovable. I was about Belle’s age when my dad got custody, but I still remember the earlier years. And even after, when I’d go for visitation with my mom, it kept happening until I was finally taken away from her. I was lucky to have Miranda as a constant in my life.”

This was a rare glance inside the softer side of an extremely strong woman. One she didn’t give just anyone. Right now, Wyatt wasn’t feeling particularly deserving.

She finally looked up and met his gaze. There was a lot of serious thought going on behind her eyes. “I guess Belle is lucky to have you.”