Chapter 14

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Delaney's POV

Cotton mouth, crusty eyes and a banging that rings in my head assaults me as I return to the land of consciousness. I blink when that doesn't clear my vision I resort to rubbing to clear them.

            The room that surrounds me is masculine, dark colors on the wall and the furniture is rough and rustic in nature. The smell of leather and musk fills the air, the same musk from last night when I curled into Wyatt's arms at the bar.

            Quickly sitting up because of images from last night flooding me; The bar, country music blaring from my phone speakers, the bottle of whiskey, boxes scattered around me and the tears. My hand lifts to wipe at my eyes in remembrance of the tears and get snag in a snarl of hair.  I pat my hands on my head feeling my hair the tangles combine to make a rat's nest on the top of my head.

             A huff at my appearance and a sigh of disbelief sum up how I feel right about now. I let my hands drop to my side because there is no fixing that hair without a shower and lots of conditioner and then breakfast to kick the rest of this hangover.

            I am a mess and Wyatt saw me like this and didn't run? He is something special that's for sure.

            He called me sugar or a variation of it last night. He was so worried, even took care of me and he ..... changed me?  as my fingers fiddle with the bottom of the shirt I'm wearing the thought crosses my mind. I am not in my skirt and blouse anymore. The shirt I wear now is a soft oversized V-neck men's shirt. It must be one of his.

            He changed me out of my work clothes in to his shirt.... That's nice of...wait out of my ....

            I can't process the rest of that as I look down at my body and the shirt that covers me.

            He didn't, did he?

            I pull the collar of the shirt out slowly and peak down hesitantly not sure what I'll find.

            Underwear, Check.

            Bra, not so much.

"WYATT." That jerk he undressed me down to just my underwear. I think. I storm out of his bedroom door and into what looks like the living room where I hear the sizzling of a skillet, hopefully with bacon cooking and orange juice chilling in the fridge.

            "Wyatt." I call out again but not as loud this time at the same time running my hands through my hair trying to tame it in to a messy bun.

I walk following my nose to the kitchen, "Please tell me there is bacon and pancakes... ," as I round the corner I stop and stare at the three half naked guys in Wyatt's kitchen. My hands still in my hair trying to make myself not look like medusa until I feel a cool draft of air hit a little too high on my thighs.

Wyatt salutes me with the spatula he is using to flip pancakes, "Hey Sug, Sleep good last ... well this mornin'?"

His smile is infectious, "Yea like the dead," I saw with an answering snile. My state of undress unnerves me "But.. Um. . . can I speak to you a minute, like right now?" I whisper shout as I hitch my thumb to the hallway. Trying to get away before more embarrassment comes my way.

"Yea Sugar. " he turns to the other two men in the kitchen giving them their duties, "Sawyer watch Devin. Devin try not to burn our house down again." He says as he hands over the spatula to Devin, eyeing both and giving them a silent command, one I don't comprehend.

I'm sorry did he say 'our' as in they all  live here together, like were here last night when Wyatt drug my drunk self through the front door and all the way to his bedroom.?

Oh Lord help me!  runs through my head as I am guided out of the kitchen down the hall and back to Wyatt's room.

"What's the matter Sugar?"

"Why are you calling me that and why am I half dressed, you know only in this shirt and my underwear?" the last part is just over a whisper to keep nosey ears from hearing my current state of undress.

"You don't remember last night, do you?"

"I remember most of it, sorta." I cringe as I continue, "okay no not really only until you walked through the door and then only small pieces until the truck when nothing comes to mind but the back of my eye lids."

"Oh Shit." is his response to my revelation.

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