The Wrong Mr. Right: A Small Town Friends to Lovers Romance (The Queen’s Cove Series Book 2)

HANNAH BEAMED at me the next morning, looking back to see if I had watched her catch another wave. I grinned back and rested my torso on my board as I bobbed up and down in the water. The sun had just risen and it was going to be a beautiful day.

For days, what Hannah and I had done while camping replayed in my mind. Her soft, sweet moans as I touched her. How she arched against me. How she tasted. The way she clamped down on me hard. Her dazed, sated expression after. That dreamy, lazy smile she had shot me as she sank back into the pillow.

How fucking incredible it felt when she wrapped her pretty lips around me.

I groaned and leaned my head on my board. Her eagerness and enthusiasm far surpassed any skill required and I had jerked off many, many times in the past few days thinking about her.

This was a problem, but I’d deal with it in the future, when it didn’t make my chest hurt to think about not doing this every morning. All things came to an end, but they wouldn’t end today. Today was all for us.

This morning, a registration email appeared had in my inbox for a surf competition in California in December. The conversation with Hannah over the fire while camping played in my head, where I had spilled my dark secret to her.

I watched her on the water, brilliant blonde hair catching the morning light. California wasn’t that far away. I could go down for a weekend.

Hannah had never been to California. Would she want to come with me? I pictured us going out for Mexican food, sipping margaritas while she swatted my hand away from her food.

I rubbed the back of my neck and tried not to smile so hard at the thought. It was her birthday in a few weeks, on the last day of the Pacific Rim competition, and I’d been racking my brain for a gift for her. It had to be perfect, but everything I had come up with so far wasn’t good enough.

She paddled back to me, pushing the wet hair out of her face with a big smile.

I winked at her. “You’re getting good at this, bookworm.”

She flushed under my praise and my heart squeezed.

She nodded over my shoulder beyond the break, further out in the ocean where the waves were bigger. “I want to try one of those.”

The waves crashed hard as they broke. We didn’t do lessons out there unless they were with intermediate surfers we had worked with before. Those waves required comfort with the ocean and intuition. I frowned, studying their height. They were a big level up from the baby waves she had been learning on. The period in between waves was long enough that she would have a decent recovery time if she bailed.

If she bailed.

I frowned and shifted on my board. She would likely bail. That’s what life was about, though, wasn’t it? That’s what I always told her. Something pinched in my chest but I ignored it. Hannah wasn’t a glass doll that couldn’t be taken out of the case. That’s what we were doing together, showing her she could get messy and fall down and still be okay.

I sucked in a deep breath and nodded once. “Okay.”

Her eyebrows lifted with her smile. “Okay?”

That smile of hers filled my chest with warmth and made me feel like a fucking king. “Mhm. Let’s go.”

We paddled to the area where I’d hang out while she rode waves. It was louder over here since the waves were bigger, and she chewed her lip, but there was determination in her eyes. Pride hit me straight in the heart.

I knew it. Under all that shyness, buried under all those books in her brain, was the heart of a fucking lion.

“Have at ‘er, bookworm. You got this. Trust yourself.”

She nodded eagerly. She waited, watched a wave approach, and paddled as it caught up with her. Her arms dipped into the water in quick succession. She was so much stronger than a couple months ago. I thought about us laughing in the car yesterday about the entire town organizing a search party for her. She had laughed so hard tears rolled down her face. She was gasping for air. Two months ago, she would have disappeared into the ground with humiliation. Now, she just laughed about it.

That put a big smile on my face as I watched her paddle.

I didn’t care if the town knew we were fooling around. Let them. Let every guy in town know to stay the fuck away from Hannah because she was mine.

Mine?

The thought jolted through me. Mine. Of course she was mine.

Hannah glanced over her shoulder at the wave. Her hands flattened on the board as she readied herself to snap up.

A bad feeling hit me. I shook my head. It was too early. The wave was going to—

The wave crashed over Hannah and she disappeared under the surface.

Fuck. Fear rattled through my veins.

I paddled hard, my head pounding with blood as my heart raced.

“Hannah!” I called, eyes darting around. Where was her board? “Hannah!”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. My throat knotted and my heart was about to explode. This was my fault.

She gasped for air behind me and I whipped around. Blood dripped down her forehead. She blinked the water and blood out of her eyes and her chest heaved hard for air. Her board floated behind her, tethered to her ankle, and she reached for it.

In a shot, I was at her side, pulling her to me and inspecting her forehead while she coughed up water. My hands threaded in her wet hair, tilting her head to study the cut.

“Bumped my head on the bottom,” she gasped. Her hand rested on her board, smearing another streak of red.

It wasn’t too deep. “Did you lose consciousness?”

She shook her head and I studied her eyes. When our gazes locked, my heart jumped into my throat. Her eyes were wide but her pupils looked normal.

I grabbed her hand. Her palm glowed with bright red scrapes, leaking blood.

Rage rocked my veins. Fuck. She was hurt and it was my fault. I never should have let her do this. She wasn’t ready. I pushed her too hard and now she was hurt. She might have a concussion.

Another wave approached.

“We have to get out of this area. Get on your board, baby. I’ll tow you.”

She shook her head. “I’m okay, Wyatt. I can swim.”

My jaw tightened. “Get. On. Your. Board. Now.” My voice was harsh and demanding and her eyes widened before she hoisted herself onto her board with one hand, keeping the scraped hand out of the water.

When we got to shore, my heart was still pounding.

“Leave the boards here,” I told her, my hand wrapped around her arm and pulling her towards the surf shack with urgency.

She was hurt. She could have internal bleeding. She could have fractured something in her forehead or cracked a rib. Even if her pupils looked normal, she might have a concussion. She needed to go to the hospital.

“Wyatt, I’m fine, really.” She laughed lightly. “It barely hurt.”

I ignored her protests and pulled her all the way to the surf shop. Thank fuck my truck was here today. I yanked the passenger door open and pushed her in, taking care with her hand.

“Where are we going?” She laughed in disbelief when I reached across to buckle her seatbelt. “Can I take my wetsuit off, please?”

“You can take it off when we get there.” I checked she was fully inside before I slammed the door and hurried to the driver’s side.

“Get where?” she asked when I got in and started the engine. I backed out and threw the car in drive.

“The ER.”

Her head fell back with a huff. “What? Wyatt, no, I don’t need to go to the ER. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You hit your head.” It took everything in me not to press the gas pedal to the floor. Get her there in one piece, I reminded myself. I’d already done enough damage to her. My gaze snagged on the red gash on her forehead. It was about an inch long and didn’t seem to be bleeding anymore.

She rolled her eyes and gave me a beseeching expression, reaching across and putting a hand on my knee with a little smile. “I’m okay. Really. I’m fine.”

I turned back to the road and didn’t say another word the rest of the way. My knee shook up and down, my heart raced, and my lungs were tight. When a family with small children crossed the street at a leisurely pace, I laid on the horn.

“Wyatt!” Hannah slapped my arm. “It’s a red light.”

The parents shot me a dirty look. I made a hurry up motion.

I pulled the truck up to the hospital doors, ignored the no-parking signs, and rushed around to Hannah’s door, wrenching it open and hauling her into the ER.

The waiting room was quiet when we entered. The nurse at the front desk took one look at us, wetsuits dripping water on the floor, neither of us wearing shoes, and asked, “Surfing accident?”

“She has a concussion. She needs to see a doctor right now.”

The nurse rolled her eyes and rage rattled through me. Out of the corner of my eye, Hannah gave her an apologetic look. I didn’t care. I knew I was being an asshole, but I didn’t care. Hannah was hurt. That was all I could think about. My Hannah was hurt and it was my fault.

Pain streaked through my chest. I’d deal with that later. Right now, I had to make sure Hannah was okay.

“Hannah?” Beck appeared at the reception desk, holding a clipboard.

My jaw clenched. This fucking guy again.

He frowned, studying her forehead. “What happened?” Then he glanced down at her wetsuit and at me. He reared back when our eyes met but he covered it up. “Surfing?”

Hannah nodded, wincing. “I’m fine.”

“She’s not fine. She hit her head. And her hand.” I grabbed her hand to show him. “She has a concussion.”

“I didn’t hit my head hard,” she told Beck.

I shook my head. “You don’t know. You could have lost consciousness.”

Hannah blew out a frustrated breath through her nose and gave a tight smile to Beck, who placed his clipboard down and gestured for Hannah to follow him. I took a step but the nurse put her arm out to stop me.

“You stay right there,” she ordered. “Need you to fill out some forms.”

Hannah shot me a reassuring smile over her shoulder before following Beck down the hallway. I swallowed with a thick throat.

“Is your wife pregnant?”

I turned back to the nurse with my mouth hanging open. “Huh?”

She repeated the question, slower.

Something woke up in my brain.

“Um.” I blinked.

Wife. Pregnant.

My brain moved slow, like wading through water. I swallowed.

Hannah. Wife. Pregnant.

The corner of my mouth kicked up. A primal part of my brain liked those words together.

“No.” I shook my head at the nurse. “She isn’t.”

She raised her eyebrows as if she didn’t believe me. “You husbands drag your wives in for any little paper cut or tummy ache when there’s a baby involved.” She handed me a clipboard with a pen and pointed at the waiting area. “Take a seat and fill out these forms. Dr. Kingston should be back soon.” She tossed me a towel from beneath the counter. I didn’t want to know why she had a stash there. “And don’t get any more water in my emergency room.”

I nodded and sat quietly, reading the form while my mind raced. Hannah. Concussion. Hannah. Hurt. Husband. Hannah. Wife. Hannah. Pregnant.

I rubbed my hand over my face. Shut up, I told myself. Pregnant? Pregnant. That was the last thing I wanted. That was the complete opposite of temporary. Pregnant meant baby, and baby meant family and forever.

With Hannah.

I smiled. Husband.

No. Shut up, I told myself. No smiling at that. Look at what happened to my aunts. Aunt Bea was still broken after what happened. Hannah’s father was a shell of a human, stuck in his ways after fifteen years, because he missed Hannah’s mom so much. I was teaching her to be fearless so some guy could sweep her off her feet. I wasn’t going to keep her for myself.

Professor.

The nickname rolled through my head and sparked down my spine. I raked a hand through my hair and focused on the forms.

Some of the information I knew, like her birthday, her address, and her phone number. Some of it I didn’t know, like her personal health number. I left that one blank. Some I filled in for myself, like her emergency contact. Her dad was away, Avery was busy with… stuff. So I put myself.

Wife. Pregnant. Fuck.

We hadn’t even had sex.

A sweet, pliant Hannah appeared in my head, under me in my bed. Naked and open for me. Me thrusting into her, her eyes falling closed as she flexed around me and I spilled into her. No condom. The warmth of sinking into her.

“Wyatt?”

My head snapped up. Beck stood in front of me. Hannah was at the front desk, talking with the receptionist. White gauze covered her hand and there was a bandage on her forehead.

Beck nodded for me to follow him. I didn’t want to leave her but my worry overpowered my need to pick her up and tuck her under my arm, where she could be safe. Once we were in an exam room, I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Is she okay? What’s going on?”

He nodded. “She’s fine. I didn’t see any sign of concussion. I cleaned her wounds, gave her a few stitches, and wrapped her hand up.”

“You know she hit her head, right?”

He snorted. “Yep, you mentioned that about six times.”

“This isn’t funny!” I yelled, surprising both Beck and myself. “Sorry. Fuck.” I rubbed my face and took a deep breath.

Beck reached out to put a hand on my shoulder but changed his mind. “It’s okay, man. I understand. But if I thought she had a concussion, even the slightest one, I’d tell you. She’s okay.” He leaned against the counter. “I gave her a few Advil for the swelling and pain and I told her to take more tonight. She’s going to have a bump on her forehead for a few days.”

I nodded. Advil. Swelling.

“She can put ice on it if it’s comfortable.”

I nodded again, swallowing. My jaw was so tight it hurt.

Beck winced.

“What?” I asked.

He shook his head and laughed a little. “I didn’t know.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Didn’t know what?”

He gave me a rueful smile. “That you two were a thing.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I wouldn’t have…” He narrowed his eyes, thinking. “But also, she asked me out. Right in front of you.” He gave me a funny look.

I never should have told her to ask a bunch of guys out. What a stupid, stupid idea. She could have practiced asking me out, again and again.

Yeah. We could still practice that.

When I didn’t elaborate, he shrugged. “Anyway. Sorry about that.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “She’s fine, okay? Lots of rest and keep her off the gnarly waves for a couple days.”

Try forever. She was never going back behind the break. She could surf the baby waves within ten feet of shore.

“Thanks for seeing her so quickly.” I cleared my throat, meeting his eyes. A hint of embarrassment hit me in the gut. “I know I’m being an asshole.”

He grinned. “It’s okay. You’re taking care of your girl. I get it.” There was something funny in his expression. Longing. Envy. “And I will keep looking.”

Empathy flickered in my chest for the guy. He was my friend, and a good guy. Except for the whole hitting-on-Hannah thing.

Hannah was mine. He could find someone else, and I hoped he would.

He led me back to Hannah and I gathered her up in a big hug, right there in the waiting room. I tucked her into my chest the way I had been wanting to for the last half hour and breathed in her damp hair, pressing my mouth to her temple. She relaxed into me and my chest eased a couple notches.

Her hands stroked my back.

“Ready to go?” I said into her hair.

She nodded. “Yep.”

We got back into the car and when we passed Hannah’s street without stopping, she turned to me with a questioning look.

“Wyatt.” Amused suspicion dripped from her tone and she raised an eyebrow before she winced in pain.

Well, that only settled my resolve.

“Where are we going?”

“My house.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?” Her head fell back in frustration, but she still huffed a laugh. “He said I’m fine. I feel fine. Beck didn’t see any sign of concussion.”

I shook my head hard and pulled into my driveway. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Her chest shook with laughter. “He’s literally a doctor.”

I put the car in park and turned to her. “We don’t know that.” My mouth lifted in a grin.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

Beck was a smart guy and I trusted him but something deep inside me wanted Hannah near to me until this weird protectiveness went away.

“Your brain is addled,” I said as we got out of the car. “I don’t want you alone tonight. You might try to lick the light sockets or something.” I reached for her and tucked her under my arm as we walked up to my place. I wasn’t going to let her out of my sight.

Wife. Pregnant. I glanced down at her and my pulse picked up.

She snorted. “What’s that look?”

I shook my head and unlocked the door. “Nothing.”

We stepped inside and I rubbed a hand absently over my chest. I’d deal with these feelings later. For now, Hannah was my sole focus.