You Drive Me Crazy (The Blackwells of Crystal Lake 2)

Rob Tracy nodded to him—the guy was still giving him one word answers and pissed as hell that Stud Randall had gone over his head. He pointed to his watch. “Ten minutes.”

Wyatt found a quiet corner and tried to clear his head. It was hard. He was miserable as hell without Regan. Still pissed, but miserable. They hadn’t talked all week. Him because he was stubborn as hell. Regan, well, she was probably unsure and feeling badly for the way things were left.

He needed to focus and put that shit behind him. At least for now.

Wyatt rolled his shoulders, willing away the butterflies that had decided to take over his stomach, when he noticed a couple of the mechanics staring behind him as if they were looking at a piece of candy. It couldn’t be Marissa Hadley. He’d had it out with her as soon as he’d come back home. She’d wanted to pick up where they left off, but he wasn’t interested.

At about that point, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he slowly turned around. If someone had told him his heart could fall out of his chest and land on the ground with a big old thud, he would have told them they were crazy. He would have given them the finger and told them that kind of stuff only happened in one of those sappy Hollywood movies. It wasn’t real. Wasn’t possible.

Except it was.

He watched Regan walk toward him, his heart flopping around on the floor like a fish out of water, and when she stopped in front of him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to talk, so he didn’t even try.

She was dressed simply in jeans, a plain white T-shirt, white runners, and hair loose and floating in the wind. An all-access pass hung around her neck, a pair of silver aviators attached to them.

He managed to clear his throat. “This is a surprise.”

“A good one, I hope.”

He took a moment because he didn’t want to sound like a damn pussy. “It is.”

Wyatt could have apologized for leaving the way he did. For blaming her for his issues with her father. He could have said a whole bunch of things, but he didn’t. He cupped her head and bent forward, his mouth grazing hers intimately before he kissed her. It was the kind of kiss that spoke volumes. The kind of kiss that had the mechanics and all the other men standing nearby hooting and hollering and whistling like a bunch of teenagers.

His chest tight, he finally let her go and pulled her close. “I needed this.” He was shocked at how much. “How did you make this happen without me knowing?”

“A girl has to keep a few secrets.” She bit her lower lip, and a small frown marred her perfect skin. “I’m so sorry, Wyatt. For before. For that last night.”

“Hey. It’s behind us. You’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

“And you’re sure everything is good with you? Promise me.”

He hesitated. “Hey, I’m good. I am. I just need to be faster than the guy beside me. Better. That’s all. That’s all it’s ever been.”

Regan nodded. “Okay.”

“Believe me?”

“I do.”

He swooped in for one last kiss, and rested his forehead against hers. He hadn’t been lying. He needed her more than she knew.

“Blackwell, we need to move.”

He nodded and stepped back. “I have to go.”

“Wait.” Regan reached into her pocket and withdrew a small slip of paper. She pressed it into his hand and kissed him one last time.

“What’s this?”

“It’s me. Your future.”

“I like the sound of that,” he murmured.

She smiled, a slow, tremulous smile that made him want to grab her again and never let her go.

“Blackwell.” Rob Tracy motioned to him. “Get your ass over here, or I swear to God, I’ll put Gilroy in the seat and you can kiss the 500 good-bye.”

“I have to go.”