Dakota Tucker (notontherun) wrote in worldsapart_ic, @ 2019-08-27 21:48:00 |
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"What'll it be?"
Bree moved from one end of the bar to the other, dishcloth over her shoulder and hair back in a messy bun as she came to a halt in front of Wyatt Kane, a man she hadn't thought she'd see again any time soon. And, if she were honest, she had hoped never to see again.
When she caught his scent in Midnight, her first instinct had been to run, bolt out the back door and pack her shit to leave but this was her town. She had been here first and if he wanted to take her back she'd put up one hell of a fight. Besides, she knew that if that was his plan, he'd probably not make a scene right here in the middle of a crowded bar even if it was only half an hour until closing.
She had enough friends here - well, 'enough' was probably pushing it, she had a few friends here - who would notice if something happened to her and Cameron, who knew the whole story, would know what to do if she went missing.
So, she figured, she'd find out what he wanted.
Seeing him properly again though... it wasn't something she'd been prepared for. It had been a long time, but the impression he'd left on her that first, brief meeting - before Carter had sequestered her away and refused to let anyone - especially Wyatt - see her had lingered. Even then, she hadn't been prepared for the memories to come flooding back.
She put a beer glass down on the counter. "IPA? Whatever we've got on tap?"
Wyatt definitely hadn't come to Midnight looking for Bree. Hell, truth be told he hadn't even known she was in town until he'd first caught her scent and then had been confronted by a human who smelled more like a wood fire than he did a human about what he wanted and what exactly he was playing at. He had hurriedly reassured said human that he meant no trouble, wasn't here to drag Bree kicking and screaming back to the pack, and he was just there on a recreational basis. Thankfully that seemed to settle the other man though a brief threat about setting his ass on fire if he so much as touched a hair on her head was an interesting one to say the least given that Wyatt wasn't as well versed with Fae touched as some other supernatural creatures.
If anything he just wanted to check in, see that she was doing okay, and that she was doing well to steer clear of pack and Carter. He'd never really liked Wyatt, possibly because of the fact Wyatt was the only threat to his leading the pack and he'd always been vocal about things that he didn't agree with, and as a result he'd basically forbidden Wyatt from seeing and talking to Bree, which sucked.
Of course what he hadn't expected was for Bree to seek him out at the end of the bar especially as the woman could ignore somebody within the same personal space as her and he'd seen her do it, impressive skillset to have. "I'll take whatever you have on tap," he said as he glanced up at her.
"High or low end of the price scale?" Was Bree's next question as she took the glass back and moved over to the taps, tipping her head as she waited for Wyatt to answer.
When he did, she quickly poured him the beer he'd asked for and placed it down on the counter.
"First one's on the house," she said, "if you tell me what you're doing here. Might not know you well an' all, but I know enough to know that this kinda place ain't really your scene."
"Figured I'd come and clear the air," Wyatt explained as he took hold of the glass and took his first sip. "Let you know my intentions which aren't to take you back to pack or to him for that matter. We're done, I went my way and they went theirs. So you can rest assured I ain't here as somebody else's errand boy."
He rubbed his thumb along his lower lip. "Asides, it wasn't a healthy place to be after you escaped, Carter lost what little of his mind he had left."
Bree flinched when Wyatt said Carter's name and then looked pissed with herself for having done so. She knew she was better than that, she was free of him and had been for years but that experience had fucked her up in more ways than one. She struggled still to say his name or talk about what happened, her turning and everything that happened before - and after.
She wet her lower lip, folded her arms across her chest and just looked at Wyatt, eyes narrowed slightly.
"Far as I understand it people just don't leave their pack." Not that she would know, she hadn't joined one in all her time here and though there was an itch under her skin she couldn't get rid of, a pain that sometimes made her feel like she was going to go mad, she didn't want to.
"They do if they and the Alpha don't exactly see eye to eye," Wyatt returned coolly as Bree regarded him through narrowed eyes. "Especially when said person can and would challenge for leadership if there'd been any chance of it going over well."
He took a further sip from his beer.
"Painful thing to do but had to be done."
Bree hummed a little, hip cocked as she listened, her eyebrow arched and she took in a breath. He had never struck her as a liar, and being a police officer meant one of two things; he was either a stand-up guy or he was corrupt as fuck and she knew which of those options she'd be putting her money on.
"You handling it okay?" she asked, thanking the waitress as empties were passed over the bar and she busied herself with stacking the dishwasher beside her. She could do it without looking, without disappearing from view so she could keep talking.
Handling it okay? Wyatt didn't know if that was what he was doing but he was keeping busy in an attempt to keep his mind off the ongoing pervasive agonising at times sense of isolation and longing.
"Keeping busy mostly," he shared as he took another sip. "Helps keep the mind off things."
"There's plenty of packs here," Bree told him with a little frown. "I'm pretty sure they'd let you join if you wanted to. Some of them are more... fighty than others, but you'd find one that you fitted, ain't got no doubts about that."
She chewed on her lower lip. "What made you choose LA?"
"Can't really fit into a pack these days," Wyatt remarked with a shake of his head. "I'm well past being a follower." Which was code for the fact he was a leader and had always been that way, it had just taken him a little longer to realise, mostly due to the fact he'd been turned and not born a wolf.
He shrugged his shoulders. "It was the furthest away from the pack and had a large supernatural community so it made sense."
"Plenty of packless wolves around here, too," Bree told him. She didn't include herself in that because why would she? "Could use someone to unite them. No point you going it alone if you don't gotta, Kane."
She nodded, "Guess I'm hopin' he'll just give up on lookin' for me. Figure one day he'll realise that I'll swallow silver 'fore I let him take me back."
"That's a good point," Wyatt admitted with a nod. "Maybe I'll look into that when my caseload lightens up." Right now it was pretty damn heavy as he was working several cases at the same time with most of his focus being poured into the disappearances.
He flexed his hands around his glass and exhaled. "Wish I could tell you that would be a thing but Carter's not exactly sane."
"Pretty sure that's somethin' you can do alongside your workload," Bree pointed out, catching someone asking her to pour a drink for one of their orders, so she turned and quickly fixed up the two whiskeys, sliding them across the bar.
She tipped her head, "Ain't healthy for you to be on your own." Never mind that was a highly hypocritical statement. "Fuck, Kane, can you not say his name? Half feel like he's just gonna turn up like fuckin' Beetlejuice."
"Sorry, what would you rather I call him?" Wyatt asked as he rolled the glass between his large palms. "Crazy, asshole, dickhead, dictator, all of the above?" Hell, he did hope that one day Carter's megalomania might get the better of him and somebody who was stronger might finally put him down, but if wishes were horses.
Bree's eyes dropped briefly, watching Wyatt's hands roll the glass. She dragged her gaze away, pushing a few flyaways behind her ear. "I generally just stick to the vaguest gender-based terms," she told him. "Ain't said his name properly in years. I know it's stupid."
She didn't think she could take him, if he turned up. Didn't trust herself not to just freeze on the spot like a frightened animal. It made her so angry at herself.
"Nah," Wyatt said with a shake of his head. "It ain't stupid. What he did was wrong in all kinds of ways and it's totally understandable that you'd rather forget all about it and move on with your life or what life you have now thanks to him taking away your choice."
He watched her hands as they pushed hair behind her ears, ears that were ever so slightly pointed, how had he not notice that before?
"So, I'll not say his name until you're ready for that to happen. Deal?"
Bree pressed her lips together at the reminder. She still hated him for it, she always would. He'd ruined her life, taken away her humanity. He'd made her something else. If he'd asked her, she'd have said no. She'd have said no forever because this wasn't how she wanted to be. It had its perks, of course, but the crippling sensation she felt when she was alone was a downside she was struggling to handle more and more.
"My own personal Voldemort," she said, leaning her elbows on the bar. It brought her a little closer to Wyatt. He smelled the same, or at least, sort of the same. Now there was an undertone of leather and gun residue to add to his unique scent.
Tipping her head, her lips quirked up in a half-smile. She held her hand out over the bar. "Deal."
Wyatt lifted his gaze to regard Bree more closely, ignoring a stirring of something in the depths of his chest and focused instead on the fact she was smiling at him and offering a hand. A slow inhale had him reaching out to clasp her much smaller hand in his own, a firm squeeze given followed by a steady handshake.
"Consider it done."
Bree returned the handshake just as firmly, her eyebrow arching a little in challenge even as the quirked smile blossomed and became a wider one, more genuine as the slope of her shoulders finally relaxed.
"Your drink's still on the house," she told him with a wink, "but if you're gonna come back, try looking less like a cop. This place might be completely above board for the most part but police still make folk nervous."
"And how exactly do I look like a cop?" Wyatt asked, glancing at his attire as it was not the uniform he'd worn all those years ago when he'd first joined the force. He realised that he was still holding onto her hand and reluctantly let go, moving his grip instead to the badge tucked at his belt. "I mean I can take this off, that might help?"
Bree hummed, almost playfully but not quite. Close. Closer than she might have thought it would have been. Her fingers felt cold from where he'd let go and she briefly retreated across the bar, rubbing her fingers and thumb together, trying to dispel the tingling. "That's better," she said, "the badge does kinda give it away."
She waved her hand, "Y'all have a sort of air about you. All official-like. 'Sides I can smell the precinct on you."
She leaned her elbows on the bar again. "Were you always a cop?"
Wyatt snorted, pulling the badge off his belt and tucking it into the inside pocket of his leather jacket as well as adjusting how his gun sat so it was less obvious. Guns he knew weren't normally allowed in Midnight but as a cop he tended to get a pass as he'd proven on more than one occasion that he didn't actually need his firearm to take care of business.
"Not always," he said with a shake of his head. "I was kind of a hellion when I was younger."
Bree's eyes dropped, watching the holster that was already snug against Wyatt's side get snugger and swallowed, doing her best not to notice how closely against his shoulders the leather jacket sat, or how it hugged him like a second skin.
"Never really got the chance to get to know you, anyway," she lamented. "Guess since you ain't here to be a total jerk we could... I dunno, maybe change that?" She drew her lower lip into her mouth, catching it between her teeth, "If you wanted?"
"Not through a lack of trying on my part," he assured her softly as he looked up at her, gaze catching and lingering on the fact her lower lip was effectively trapped between her teeth. "He who shall not be named had literally no interest in us being friends."
He tore his eyes from Bree's mouth and lifted them to rest on her face instead. "And I'd like that, definitely."
"Ain't like he wanted anyone bein' friends with me," Bree reminded him, though she knew that Wyatt had tried. They'd had maybe two brief conversations before Carter had lost it, threatened Wyatt - if she remembered correctly - for getting too close to 'his Bree'. Ugh. The memory made a shudder ripple down her spine.
She sighed, physically shaking herself to dislodge the memory. "Well," she said, holding out her hand, "guess I better give you my number."
Wyatt nodded, reaching into a pocket to pull out his phone. "Guess you'd better." He passed the phone over and ignored the slight tingle which resulted from the skin to skin contact, dispelling it by wrapping his hands back around his glass and taking another sip.
Bree's breath jumped a little when their hands brushed again but she focused on tapping her number into his phone, and then calling herself so she had the number as a missed call on her own phone. She didn't want to ignore a message from him, or a call, just because she didn't answer for numbers she didn't recognise.
She was paranoid, so sue her.
Phone on the bartop, she spun it around and pushed it back across to him.
"You ain't got an excuse now for not textin' me."
"No excuse at all." Wyatt smirked as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. "I'll try to keep it to reasonable hours though. Being a cop means I keep really weird hours, up when others are asleep and asleep when others are awake."
He wiped the back of his thumb over his top lip as he was certain he'd gone and given himself a foam moustache.
Bree's eyes tracked the movement of Wyatt's thumb and she picked up a glass just to have something to do with her hands so she didn't trace the movement with her own thumb over his lip. It seemed appealing.
"Honey," she started, utterly deadpan, "I'm a bartender. In a supernatural strip club. I don't exactly keep normal hours."
Wyatt chuckled. "Okay, you got me there. Seems as though you might become my new weird hours text friend." His lips tugged into a warm smile.
Bree's expression immediately softened into something gentle. "Promise?"
Wyatt swallowed hard at the sudden change in Bree's expression and once again ignored the something that clenched in his chest.
"Yeah, I promise," he assured her with a slow smile.
Bree returned the smile in kind, ignoring the way she felt like she could hear her blood racing in her ears. "I'm gonna hold you to that," she told him, pointing a finger in his direction.
"Aw shit, I better go do my actual job," she added, looking genuinely bothered by the requirement to go and do something that wasn't just talk to Wyatt. His presence had always intrigued her; she'd wanted to get to know him before, the anticipation of maybe seeing him had been one of the only enjoyable memories of that place. "You gonna be okay on your own for five while I go serve some folk?"
"Yeah, of course. Don't let me keep you." Wyatt reassured with a warm smile. "I'll be just fine here waiting." And he would wait, probably stick around until closing and grab as much conversation with Bree as he could because he'd always wanted to get to know her even back when Carter was at his most aggressive.
Bree winked, indicating the stage with a nod of her head. "Enjoy the show, Wyatt," she told him as she moved away from his end of the bar to the middle, talking with one of the regulars and reaching for the ingredients to make a cocktail. Though she wasn't as good as Ryder - she couldn't throw bottles around and catch them behind her back - she did a good enough job of spinning the glass, dextrously twirling the stirrer between her fingers and making enough of a show.
All the while, though, she was half-watching Wyatt.
Wyatt to his credit did as he was told, he kept his eyes on Bree as she put on quite a show behind the bar. She was definitely good at what she did and it took all of his impressive willpower to not imagine what else her hands might be capable of especially as that was definitely not appropriate given that they were working on becoming friends. Friends did not imagine what friends hands might do if they-
Nope, Wyatt shook his head and cleared his throat, cooling himself off by taking a slow steady pull from his glass until he'd practically drained it.
The lights dimmed around them and the performers took to the stage, the music loud and thumping to draw attention. Bree turned her head as Wyatt downed his drink, watching his throat work and feeling hers go dry even as she winked at him again and indicated the stage; he was missing the performance.
Taking payment from the patron, she rustled up two more drinks before making her way back over.
"Thirsty?" she asked, "Enjoying the dancers?"
Wyatt turned his head as he hadn't even been aware that the dancers were on stage until Bree pointed it out to him. "Yeah, thirstier than I thought." His shoulders rolled into a shrug. "And um, I dunno. Feels kinda like I shouldn't be watching them even though I know that's why folks come to Midnight. I dunno, maybe I still have too much of the south in me or something."
"You didn't know I was gonna be here tonight," Bree pointed out, reaching out and taking the glass from Wyatt's hand, refilling it and replacing it within a matter of a minute or so, "so why else would you come to a place where gorgeous people dance if not to appreciate what it is that they do?"
She tipped her head, glancing at the stage and then back at Wyatt. "'s cute, though, you bein' all gentlemanlike."
Wyatt ducked his head to hide the flush of colour which had just erupted across his cheeks before he went about combing his fingers through the short hairs across the back of his neck, grip tightening there a moment later.
"Maybe I just like the alcohol here," he offered with a small smirk as he lifted his head.
"On a Detective salary you sure as hell don't like the prices," Bree retorted, having spotted the way his cheeks caught and wishing he hadn't ducked his head. She curled her fingers around the bar top so she didn't reach out and lift his chin before he did. Her eyebrow was arched. "Is it the mermaid? A lot of people come here to see her. And it ain't quite so..." she wiggled her fingers, "don't feel quite so much like lookin' at somethin' you shouldn't."
"You got me there." Wyatt chuckled before he honest to God regarded Bree with the blankest most confused expression to have ever crossed his face completed only by the slight furrowing of his eyebrows. "Mermaid? There's a mermaid here?"
"She's one of our most popular... attractions is the wrong word. Performers? Long standin' performer." She turned to indicate the tank that took up the wall behind the bar, currently empty but still lit up. It stretched along three of the four walls, with a few points where she could poke her head out and talk to - or flirt with - customers. "Have you seriously never seen her?"
Whilst Wyatt looked genuinely confused, Bree looked genuinely surprised. Everyone had heard of Waverley. Everyone.
Wyatt lifted his gaze to regard the large tank of water and he literally had a moment because he had clearly missed a huge very obvious something because he hadn't been paying any attention to anything outside of Bree.
Well, fuck.
"Guess I maybe haven't been here when she has?"
Bree watched the way Wyatt's expression loosened in surprise at seeing the tank, like it was the first time he'd noticed it. "Or you've gotta work on your observational skills, officer," she teased, reaching across the bar to tap his nose before she could stop herself. The touch caused her breath to hitch and she made to withdraw. Way to cross a line, Bree.
It was strange how the entire world could in a moment narrow down to one touch, an innocent touch at that, but it did the moment Bree's finger made contact with his nose. It was as though somebody had in that moment narrated "oh there you are" and Wyatt felt a pull like he'd never felt before, ignoring all rhyme and reason, lifting a hand to catch her hand before she had time to pull away.
"Clearly," he managed roughly, trying to in some way piece himself back together again.
"That could get you into trouble," Bree said, swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat. It wasn't fear that had her going still when his fingers caught hers, stopping her from pulling away. It certainly wasn't fear that had her reaching out, still close enough to touch, and brushing her finger along his chin. It wasn't fear that made her stomach leap and her chest constrict and something in her pushing for her to climb over the bar into his lap.
Fuck. What was that?
She needed to get fucking laid. Christ.
Her own voice was rough, though the words had died on her lips, sort of caught in the eye contact. The world around them, though loud and full of sensory input, had blurred out in a way she hadn't though possible.
This? This was new. Really new. And given that Wyatt had been a wolf since a very young age he had a horrible sinking feeling he knew exactly what this was and why Carter had been so vehemently against his getting to know Bree. The only upside was he could tell that it was reciprocated even if Bree didn't fully understand what it was, the fact she was leaning in rather than away indicated to him that she felt it too.
He ignored the desire he had to chase her finger with his mouth, swallowed hard, and did his best to get back on a steadier footing.
"It could," he finally managed after a prolonged moment of heavy silence. "I guess I need to start paying attention to everything instead of just what I'm interested in."
Bree's breath hitched again. She knew what he was talking about, or, rather who. She was well acquainted with the sensation of lust; she'd felt it more than once in her life but this was something else. Lust, for sure, because she had eyes and Wyatt was a tall drink of water in a scorching desert. But there was something else, something reckless, and she had no idea what to do with that.
"The beer ain't that good," she teased, though from her expression it was clear that she knew that hadn't been what he was talking about.
She broke her gaze away from Wyatt, looked at the clock. "I'm due my break..."
That remark, about the break, it felt.. important. Did she mean that she wanted to break this moment whatever it was, get away from him, cool off or did she mean it gave them an opportunity to go somewhere else?
Honestly, he felt like a douche for even thinking the latter all things considered.
"Yeah?" He asked, figuring he'd let her guide the next move.
It was reckless, this was reckless. Cameron was going to kill her but she nodded, wet her lower lip and glanced up again. She was, genuinely, due for a break. She'd been on shift for a few hours and even though she was a werewolf, company policy gave them the same breaks as humans. Even though precious few actually worked behind the bar.
"Yeah," she echoed, reluctantly taking her hand back from where his fingers had hold of hers. "Don't know about you but I could use some fresh air?"
"Yeah," he replied with a small nod of his head. "Air, I could do with some fresh air." Stupid, reckless, kind of reminiscent of how he'd been when he was younger but he wasn't fighting this as much as he should have.
He pressed his hands to the bar and rose to his feet.
Bree pulled his empty glass over the counter and stuck it in the dishwasher. "Meet you outside, down by the staff entrance?" she said, glad that most of the other tenders working were very much of the mind-your-own-business type.
She waited a few seconds and then ducked out the back of the bar, through the staff room. She lingered for only a few seconds - she needed to check her hair, apparently - and then headed out into the cool night air.
Resting her back against the wall, she breathed in deeply, trying to shake off the fog that had descended over her but failing miserably. Anticipation coiled in her again, the same way it had that very first time she'd laid eyes on him. Fuck.
Wyatt nodded his head before he stepped away from the bar and headed towards the exit, using that time and more importantly space from Bree to try and get himself calmer and more collected though he had a feeling all of his hard work would go right out of the window when he laid eyes on her again.
Still, he could try.
Honestly, though he was going to let her lead especially given her history and everything else, Wyatt was more than happy for Bree to set the pace of whatever happened next. That was if anything happened. Could be they were just going to get air and talk away from the bar for all he knew. He headed around to the staff entrance and inhaled slow as he approached her where she was resting against the nearby wall.
Bree lifted her head and opened her eyes when she heard the sound of footsteps, followed by a scent she knew that she'd forever associate with Wyatt. She didn't move from the wall, but she did drop her arms from where they were folded across her chest, let the foot that had been braced against the wall fall to the ground.
"Hey," she greeted, that reckless need boiling inside of her that had her wanting to grab him and pull him in. Oh yeah, she needed to get laid. Badly. "Figured this'd be a better place to, uh-" talk? Was that what she wanted to do? "Be away from pryin' eyes."
Wyatt inhaled and settled against the wall beside Bree, lifting a hand to push through his hair and close around the back of his neck as it was better that than doing something stupid. "That makes sense," he said with a nod. "People do like to stick their noses into business that ain't theirs to be involved."
He wet his lower lip and tipped his head to look over at her.
"So, how do you like LA?"
As Wyatt tipped his head to look at her, she rolled on the wall to face him with her full body, shoulder still in contact with the brick work and her temple against it too. The cool touch was grounding.
“It’s different,” she admitted. “Real different. Ain’t so sure it’s different in a good way.”
"Ain't that the truth?" Wyatt replied as he absently kicked at a nearby stone to send it skittering away. "Doesn't have the same charm." He rolled his shoulders back into the wall and offered her a lopsided smile. "You do get your privacy though."
Bree watched his profile with a small smile, chest clenching again at the lopsided upward curl of his lips.
“Yeah, ain’t got to know anyone really so my privacy’s still that.” She shrugged, “you? What d’you think of LA?” Her hand lifted, to touch him, but she caught herself. She slid her fingers into her pockets.
"Understandable," Wyatt affirmed with a nod. "Considering what happened the last time you got to know somebody." He shifted to mirror her posture, one shoulder pressed against the wall and tips of his boots pointing towards her. "Keeps me busy, not in a good way most of the time, truth be told."
He tongued at his lower lip as he cleared his throat. "But can't complain, keeps me in a job."
"Tryna hold out hope that not everyone in the world is like that guy," Bree said with a snort. She glanced down, watched his feet for a moment before looking, eyes stalling as his tongue brushed his lip. She, unconsciously, mimicked the action.
Lifting her gaze, she shook her head, "Ain't- 's a lonely life, huh," she managed, realising that with Wyatt rolling to stand like her, they were a lot closer than before and without a bar to separate them. He was intoxicating. Was that the right term? Shit, that was creepy.
"It'll be nice to have someone to text late at night."
Wyatt offered a small smile. "Guess that means you gotta be willing to get to know folk better then." His gaze dropped to where her tongue was on her lower lip before he caught himself, glancing back up and letting his attention solely focus on her eyes.
"Mmm, it will."
There was definitely a magnetic pull towards her but again he didn't want to be that guy.
"I'll try and limit it to when I'm out and about."
"Don't feel you gotta," Bree said, wanting to reassure him that he could message her whenever he wanted to; she'd given him her number, after all, and very few people - despite the nature of her having acquaintances - actually had that. "I got my cell on me all the time, and like you I imagine, I don't sleep so good."
She gave in and reached out, smoothing her fingers along the collar of his jacket, righting it softly.
"How else am I s'posed to get to you know you?"
Wyatt turned his head to watch her hand as she righted the collar of his jacket and he reached up to curl his fingers around her wrist, squeezing it softly. "You've got a point there, would be hard to get to know one another if we didn't talk more."
And he did keep very odd hours.
"I'm keen to do that," Bree said softly, lifting her eyes from where he was touching her, lingering on his lips for a second before meeting his gaze. "So don't you worry none 'bout textin' or callin' whenever."
She didn't know how to describe what she wanted to do other than to lean forward and kiss him, and she had a feeling he wouldn't complain if she did but it felt too forward. Felt too... reckless.
But he wasn't here to take her back, Cameron had said as much and Wyatt had confirmed it tonight.
"Are you gonna be trouble, Wyatt Kane?" she asked, drawl wrapping around his name.
"Alright, I won't," Wyatt said with a nod of his head. "Promise."
There was definitely a crackle of electricity in the air around them and he recognised it for what it was, mutual attraction. Only it was sudden, abrupt and seemingly came out of nowhere. That was how it was for wolves when you fou- No, Wyatt yanked his brain out of that place. Bree hadn't asked to be what she was and he knew she didn't buy into anything wolf related so he couldn't imagine she'd be pleased with where his head was at.
"Trouble? Me?" He asked before giving a low chuckle. "I ain't been trouble for a long time."
"Don't know about that," Bree murmured, thumb smoothing over the leather as she was yet to drop her hand, "I kinda feel like you might be trouble."
Her voice dropped, too, low and intimate. Her fingers moved from the collar of his jacket to the fabric of his shirt, just under the hollow of his throat. "Tell me not to do somethin' stupid, Wyatt," she asked him, her gaze glowing a little amber in the half-light of the alley as she met his.
It would have been easier for him to tell her not to do something stupid if he wasn't also contemplating doing the exact same himself. "Hopefully not the wrong kind of trouble," he rumbled as he felt her fingers slip from his collar to the fabric of his shirt.
Trouble could come in many forms after all.
He knew his own eyes were a touch brighter than they had been a moment ago which meant he was not as in control of himself as he would have liked to be. "How stupid is stupid?"
"I think that's up to you," Bree replied, touch ghosting over the skin of his throat as she leaned a little closer. Her voice was low and whiskey-rough and she wet her lower lip slowly, catching it with her teeth and slowly letting it slide out.
She met his gaze head on, let him see her eyes duck to his lips and up again. "Pretty fuckin' stupid, considerin' we barely know each other."
"Well, there is that," Wyatt drawled as he smoothed his hand down the length of her arm. "Granted we are meant to be getting to know one another better and all."
He ducked his head for a moment as he pulled in a breath, catching the edge of his lip with his teeth.
"Whatever happens right here and now is definitely up to you, Bree." He'd follow her lead.
Bree swallowed, not sure what to do with the ball being put in her court. Casual encounters were one thing, but Bree didn't have many of them at all. She'd been wary for a long time, ever since Carter, of letting anyone into her space, letting herself be vulnerable.
"It is?"
Wyatt lifted his gaze and nodded his head as he held eye contact.
"It is."
Bree wet her lower lip, pressed her hand flat against his chest, able to feel his heart beating underneath her palm in time with that she could hear.
"What do you want?" she asked, softly.
Damn good question. Wyatt wet his lower lip as he pushed past the more primal part of his brain that was desperately trying to take over because he knew that once that happened there was no turning back.
He was about to answer her when suddenly his radio crackled.
"Kane, you there?"
Fuck
Wyatt gave an annoyed growl that reverberated deep in his chest especially as whoever was trying to reach him had definitely interrupted a moment. "Sorry," he muttered with a shake of his head as he reached for the radio and brought it to his mouth, glowing eyes still resting quite firmly on Bree. "What is it?"
"I found something you might be interested in."
Bree jumped at the crackle of the radio, the moment - though broken - hanging in the air between them, a possibility that wasn't completely dispelled. She watched his fingers on the radio, the unhappy set to his mouth and she touched under his chin with two fingers.
"Go," she told him quietly, leaning forward and ducking past the radio to press a kiss to his cheek, lingering in his space for a moment. She patted his chest, a sensation achingly close to disappointment rocking through her as she forced herself to step back.
"Think we've got a lead on one of those missing kids," the radio said.
Wyatt turned into the kiss to his cheek before he pushed out a frustrated breath though duty called and he couldn't ignore it no matter how much he might have wanted to.
"Yeah? Okay, where are you? I'll come to you."
He caught Bree's wrist just before she pulled away entirely and squeezed it, mouthing that he'd text her later.
An address crackled over the radio and Bree nodded, "Go be a hero," she told him, taking a few steps backwards and forcing herself out of his space. She wiggled her fingers in a parting wave and headed towards the service entrance, she needed to just take a deep breath and put her shit aside for the rest of the night.
And definitely not watch her phone for a text.
When she glanced back to see Wyatt, she smiled and then stepped inside, hearing his footsteps retreating.