Wyatt smiled. “You know, maybe that’s where I’ve noticed you before. You looked familiar when I met you, and I’ll bet that’s why.”
Tess remembered how crowded those fish boils got, with people in the restaurant and spilling out into the backyard and even the parking lot. Being at the same crowded event with Wyatt at some time during her past, not knowing she was across the room from the man who would become her . . . her what, exactly? She didn’t want to get ahead of herself, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that this might well be something important.
It all rang true to Tess, the magical, strange, and otherworldliness about Wharton. She had never quite thought about it before, but that could be why the town was so special. So apart. Growing up visiting Wharton, she hadn’t been aware of all the strangeness that swirled in the air here. Maybe now she was a part of that swirl. She was slipping into the enchantment.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
After cleaning up the dinner things, Wyatt turned on a movie, and the two of them settled in in front of the fire. Tess made it through a grand total of about fifteen minutes before falling asleep. She woke up snuggled next to Wyatt, his arm around her shoulders. The television was off, and he had a book in his lap.
She lifted her head and sighed. She noticed the fire was just a small flame on a bed of embers. “How long was I asleep?” she asked, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.
He smiled at her. “Long enough for the movie to be over, and for me to take the dogs out,” he said. “I was going to roust you in a bit to move you upstairs. I figured you didn’t want to sleep the night down here.”
“I’m sorry I passed out like that,” she said, running a hand through her hair.
He pushed himself up from the couch and held out his hand to Tess. She took it, and he helped pull her up. “I sort of liked you curling up with me,” he said. “It felt good. And you were exhausted. I was glad you could drift off. I wasn’t surprised at all.”
He led her down the hallway, turning out lights as they went. Storm appeared from another room and followed them up the stairs.
“Your guardian is following you to bed,” Wyatt said.
Tess smiled. “He always does.”
At the door to the guest room, Wyatt hesitated. “Tess, I . . .” His words stumbled over each other. “I guess I should leave you here. Right?”
He was adorably nervous, Tess thought.
“I wouldn’t mind it if you tucked me in,” she said, leaning against him.
“Give me a second,” he said, and stepped down the hall to what Tess presumed was his bedroom. She took that time to brush her teeth and slide under the covers, her stomach knotting up. Was this going to happen? Did she want it to happen? She hadn’t so much as slept in the same bed with a man other than her ex-husband for a long time.
Wyatt returned in a soft T-shirt and plaid flannel pajama pants. He slipped under the covers and leaned on his side facing her.
“You’re sleeping over at my house,” he said, his voice soft.
“I know,” she said, turning to him.
“It’s nice to have you here,” he said.
“It’s nice to be here,” she whispered.
He stroked her hair. “I have to tell you, Tess, that from the first moment I saw you . . .” His words drifted off into the air, replaced by a look of love and vulnerability on his face as he gazed down into her eyes.
“I know,” she said. “From the first moment I saw you, too.”
He kissed her, then, and she wrapped her arms around him. She didn’t care about any paintings or mysteries or ghosts in her house, or anything else. She was here, now. And it was the most important thing in the world.
The next morning, Tess awoke to sun streaming in through the blinds on the windows. Wyatt was sound asleep beside her. She snuggled back down and closed her eyes, not wanting to leave their warm bed, but despite trying for a while, sleep would not return.
She looked at Wyatt’s handsome face and noticed his profile. A perfect nose. Strong jaw. He really was quite beautiful, she thought.
Tess slid out of bed, careful not to wake him, and put on her slippers. Storm was nowhere to be found. Downstairs with the girls, she guessed. She brushed her teeth and hair, splashed some water on her face, and with Wyatt still snoring softly, she retrieved her phone from her purse and padded out of the room and down the hall toward the stairs.
On her way past his bedroom, she saw his door was open, so she peeked inside. Another wooden head-and footboard and massive dresser from the same era as the one in “her” room.