Wyatt’s special bond with Yvette
When I wrote Defending Yvette I felt it was a bit of a departure to most of my stories. Yvette was in the wrong place at the wrong time – too many times. Then she did the unthinkable – she tried to spy on someone she didn’t realize was as dangerous as he was. On top if it, without her even knowing it, he made a great case for blackmail.
Yvette lived what she thought was a simple life. She went to work, she came home, she had a boyfriend, you know, a regular life. She’d even say it was unremarkable. Until it wasn’t, but by then it was nearly too late for Yvette and she found herself on the run.
The only friend Yvette had that she felt she could count on for help was Jax. Afterall, Jax had always been tough, sure of herself, strong and in control. Yvette didn’t know Jax was a special operative anymore than she knew she’d be running for her life, and soon.
Jax lent a hand the only way she knew how, she called in a favor with Wyatt. Wyatt’s first comments were, “I don’t like to babysit.” But in typlical Jax form, she said, “Tough shit.”
To read Yvette and Wyatt’s story, pick up your copy of Defending Yvette. It’s a story I thoroughly enjoyed writing.
He crossed his arms in front of him and she knew that was an invisible barrier of sorts. Protective. He continued to stare at her as if trying to figure out how much to tell her.
“How tall are you?” It flew from her mouth before she could think about it. But he towered over her and Jax, too. Yet, he was sensitive. Like a big bear or something.
He chuckled and his face transformed into something stunning. His long dark hair, and beard framed a face she assumed was classic Norseman. Like the Vikings she’d seen on television or in the movies. Strong features built solid and sturdy, and able to handle themselves. That’s what he reminded her of Vikings except for his black hair and unusual amber eyes. He grinned again and his dimples emphasized his smile but also the scar on the left side of his face. She saw the hair on his beard part and the scar that ran the length of the left side of his face and neck and curved behind it.
“Where did that come from?” He asked.
She could feel the blush as it crawled up her chest and to her cheeks. “I don’t know. I guess my senses are returning. I can’t help but notice that you are likely the tallest man I’ve ever seen.” DEFENDING YVETTE Chapter 11 by PJ Fiala