Chapter Five
Now here they were months later and Wyatt was suggesting... What?
At first she’d thought that night might be the start of an affair. Or at the least a fling. But they didn’t get together again. In fact, she didn’t even talk to him for a couple of weeks. Wyatt didn’t make any moves to change from friends to lovers, and Mia was damned if she’d be the one to bring it up. He either wanted her or he didn’t. He made it pretty damn clear he didn’t.
She realized she was pregnant quickly. She’d always been regular as clockwork, so when she missed her period she knew. A home pregnancy test confirmed it.
She didn’t tell Wyatt right away. How could she after what Loretta had done to him? She couldn’t bear to think about what he would do. He might not even believe her. And if he did, he’d marry her. Reluctantly, angrily, but he would do it. He’d been willing to marry Loretta, a woman he hardly knew. There was no way he wouldn’t insist on marrying Mia. And she loved him too much to trap him into a marriage he didn’t want.
But she couldn’t keep it from him. Not for long. So a couple of days after she found out, she called him and asked him to come over. He said he needed to talk to her too. Before she could tell him her news, he dropped his bombshell. He was moving back home. To Marietta. Without her. Without, apparently, giving her a second thought. Two weeks later, he was gone, and she still hadn’t told him she was pregnant.
By the time she was about fourteen weeks along, the guilt became too much to bear. He deserved to know. It was so wrong to keep it from him. What would she do when the baby was born? She couldn’t keep him from his child. She didn’t want to keep him from his child. But neither did she want to be married to a man who didn’t love her.
She decided to tell him. Suck it up and face the consequences. But that wasn’t a conversation she intended to have over the phone. That night she started checking flights to Bozeman, the closest airport to Marietta.
At first she thought the twinges were nothing. Then they progressed to cramping. She called her doctor’s office and talked to the doctor on call. The doctor advised her to make sure she was hydrated, eat something, and rest. If she started bleeding she should go to the emergency room.
She started bleeding and wound up in the ER. The ER doctor sent her along to the labor and delivery floor. Where she lost the baby. There was nothing they could do.
And that wasn’t even the worst of the news.
“Where did you go?” Wyatt asked her, bringing her back to the present.
Mia looked at him. He still held her hand. He was looking at her in a way she’d only dreamed about before. But why? Why now? She pulled her hand free.
“I was thinking about the night we spent together. Actually, I was thinking about what happened after that night.”
“What do you mean? Nothing happened.”
“Exactly my point. If you’ve thought about that night, about me, so much then why did nothing happen after that one time? And why did you decide to move away so quickly? You weren’t thinking about the two of us then, were you?”
“Mia, I—”
“And finally, if you’ve thought about me so damn much then why have I only heard from you twice since you moved? Why did you only ask me to come here when you were boxed into a corner about one brother’s wedding and another’s baby?”
Shit. He could see how that would bother her. “I’ve talked to you more than twice.” Maybe he hadn’t.
He’d been doing his best to ignore his real feelings for Mia. He’d deliberately not called her often, because when he did, it reminded him of how much he missed her. Missed seeing her, missed talking to her, missed being with her.
Aside from anything else, he missed her friendship. They both liked the outdoors. They hiked, skied and biked together. They hung out and listened to music. Even though they had different tastes, they made each other listen to everything. They talked about books and art, politics and medicine. He liked her. He always had.
“Only twice,” she stated decisively. “Three times if you count your call for help.”
Wyatt winced. Damn, why’d she have to be so blunt? “That wasn’t the only reason I called you. I wanted to see you, Mia. Damn it, I missed you.”
“Maybe. But your timing is suspicious, to say the least.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I wasn’t sure what you were doing at first. But I think I know now. I’m here, I’m familiar, why not have a little friends with benefits fun? The sex was good—”
“The sex was great,” he said, beginning to get pissed. “You thought so too.”
She looked at him and shrugged. “Whatever.”
“Whatever?” What the fuck? Whatever? “That’s sure as hell not how I’d describe it.”
“It was rebound sex,” she said flatly. “The point is, I’m here and I’m convenient.” Before he could counter that statement, she added, “Tell me something, Wyatt. Have you had sex since you and I were together?”
“What the hell kind of question is that?”
“Have you?”
“No. Have you?”
“We aren’t talking about me. But as it happens, no, I haven’t.”
“Why?”
“Does it matter? I have my reasons,” she said.
“What is this about, Mia? Are you trying to piss me off?” If so, she was doing a damn fine job of it.
“I can’t help it if the truth pisses you off, Wyatt. I don’t want to sleep with you, or have an affair with you or whatever you want to call it and then have you realize this is nothing more than a transitional period for you. I—we both deserve more than that.”
“You’ve got this all wrong.”
“Do I? Think about it. You’re a normal, healthy male who hasn’t had sex in months. The reason you haven’t is because you don’t trust women. Who can blame you after what Loretta did to you?”
He didn’t deny that was the reason. Because it was, in part. He’d liked the women he’d gone out with in Marietta, but he hadn’t slept with any of them. He’d had several opportunities, but he hadn’t taken them. Sure, he couldn’t get past what had happened. But the main reason he’d been celibate was because he didn’t want to sleep with just any woman. He wanted Mia.
“You’re a woman. I trust you.”
She gave him an enigmatic look. “I know you do. You think I’m safe. Because we’re friends.”
“I trust you because I know you won’t lie to me.” Again with the inscrutable expression. “I see what the problem is. You think I’m just using you until I get over being played. But that’s not what’s happening here.” Obviously, she didn’t believe him. “What can I do to convince you that we should see where this goes?”
“I’m not sure you can.”
Oh, baby, that’s where you’re wrong. He scooted his chair over until it was in front of hers.
Mia looked at him suspiciously. “What are you doing?”
He took her face in his hands, leaned close and planted a kiss on those pretty lips. He’d caught her off guard, and pressed his advantage to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue between her lips, drawing hers out in answer.
“What was that?” she asked when he ended the kiss.
“That was something to think about.” It had finally dawned on him that Mia wanted to be romanced. And that was one thing Wyatt knew how to do. He got up, grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, let’s go decorate the tree.”
Mia knew Wyatt well. He didn’t give up. Once he made up his mind, he pursued his goal relentlessly. Apparently, he’d decided she was his current goal. Or at least, having sex with her was. Having seen him in action more than once, Mia knew if he turned on the charm, she was in big trouble.
Hell. She was a goner.
Even so, that still left two very big problems. One, she wasn’t convinced his interest was for real. It could easily be a rebound response. Two, he trusted her and she’d lied to him. She should tell him about the baby and miscarriage. And she would, even though she knew it could be the death knell of their relationship. Given that, she couldn’t tell him until after his brother’s baby was born and the other brother’s wedding had taken place. It wouldn’t be fair to make those events even harder for him to deal with, especially since she’d already waited so long to tell him. After all, her main reason for coming had been to give Wyatt support. And don’t forget you were dying to see him and missed him like crazy.
Irritated, she shook off that thought, along with the thought that she was a goner if he decided he wanted her, whatever his reasons. All she had to do was resist him. Piece of cake.
After checking to make sure all the new light strands were working, Wyatt began stringing them, starting at the bottom. “My mom used to get us to help her decorate the tree. My dad never would help her.”
“Why?”
Wyatt shrugged. “Andy Gallagher had better things to do than mess with a bunch of Christmas nonsense. That’s how he put it. Once my mom died it was up to us, the three oldest, to do something for the little ones. Dad didn’t care as long as we didn’t expect his input or help.”
“So you three played Santa? Did you wear a Santa outfit?” She tried to imagine that but couldn’t.
He laughed. “No, but we made Jack do it the first year after we lost mom. We had him dress up, suit, padding, beard and all. He wouldn’t do it again after that.”
“Why, did something bad happen?”
He shot her a devilish look. “Someone put superglue on the beard.”
Mia laughed. “Someone named Wyatt?”
“In my defense, I was only thirteen. We were helping him get dressed and I was in charge of the sticky stuff that stuck the beard to his face. I happened to have a little super glue, so I put it on the beard and gave it to him. Sean thought it was funny too. Besides, it came off with nail polish remover.”
“I bet Jack wanted to murder you.”
He opened up the step stool so he could reach the upper branches. “Yeah, he sure did. I hid out in the barn until he managed to get the beard off.”
“Speaking of family, when will I meet the rest of yours?”
“If not tomorrow during the day sometime, then I’m sure we’ll see them at the Christmas Stroll tomorrow night.”
Mia found a set of wooden figures to hang on the tree and set them aside, along with the other things she’d found that were in decent shape. Then she pulled out the Santa-in-his-sleigh ornament she’d bought when they went to find lights. “Do you care where I hang this?” she asked, holding it up.
“Nope. Hang it anywhere you want. Is it a tradition?”
“What, the sleigh? No, I just liked it.” Taking the ornament to the tree, she looked for a good place to hang it. She didn’t want to tell Wyatt she hadn’t decorated a tree in years. Not since her parents died. Any traditions they’d had died with them. When they went to the store she’d found that she wanted badly to have something of her own to hang.
“Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you put up a tree,” he said.
“Doesn’t seem worth it for just me. You don’t put one up either.”
“No, if I was working I didn’t see the point and if I wasn’t, I usually came to Marietta. Jack and his family always do something. Even after his first wife died he put up decorations for Gina, his daughter. Jack tried to scale back this year because the baby is due any time, but he wound up going all out. Not to anyone’s surprise. The guy is a sucker for holidays.” He climbed down from the step stool. “Do you have any Christmas traditions?” he asked her, picking up some ornaments to hang.
“Not exactly a tradition. I volunteer at Thanksgiving and Christmas. At a soup kitchen or food pantry, or a homeless shelter. Sometimes at an assisted living place, or nursing home, or hospital. I change where I go every year.”
“That’s a great thing to do.”
“I’ve missed a few holidays over the years, usually when I was dating someone who wanted me to come home with him.” Her last boyfriend, the one she’d almost gotten engaged to, had taken her to his family’s house last Thanksgiving and Christmas. Mia had really liked his parents and sisters. He was a great guy and she’d tried so hard to convince herself she loved him. She cared a lot about him, but she didn’t love him. In the end, she knew it wouldn’t be fair to Todd to agree to marry him when she was in love with another man. The same man standing in front of her right now.
“I remember this,” he said, holding up an angel tree topper that had been badly squashed. “I remember why it got smashed too. Dylan sat on it.”
“It was the only tree topper I saw. Should we get a new one?”
“No, I like this one.” He climbed back on the step stool and placed it on the treetop. Then got down and stood back to look at it. “She looks kind of pitiful. Her wing is broken.”
“Fix it. You’re an orthopedist, don’t you fix broken wings?”
He laughed. “I haven’t ever attempted an angel’s wing.” He got the angel down and set her on the table. “I’ll try later. Let’s finish up the rest of the ornaments.”
They worked without talking, listening to the Christmas music Wyatt had put on earlier, before dinner.
“What about your family?” Wyatt asked after a while. “Are they cool with you volunteering on holidays? Don’t you see them?”
Damn, she thought she’d dodged that bullet. Should she tell him? Even as long as they’d known each other, she hadn’t ever told him. She never talked about these things. But this was Wyatt, one of the few, if not the only person she could consider telling. She wasn’t ashamed. None of it had been her fault. But it was a very private thing to her. And Mia was an intensely private person.
“There’s no one to see. My parents died when I was eighteen. I don’t have any relatives. That I know of, anyway.”
He stared at her. “You never told me that.”
“You never asked.”
“Would you have told me if I had?”
She shrugged. “Probably not.” She sat on the couch and he sat beside her.
“Whenever I asked you about your family you changed the subject. I thought maybe you were estranged, but it didn’t occur to me that you’d lost them. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
“There’s no way you could have known unless I told you. I didn’t want to sound like poor pitiful me, so I didn’t mention it.” She put her hand on his arm. “You don’t need to feel bad. I came to terms with it a long time ago.”
He put his hand over hers. Warm, comforting, empathetic. He’s a doctor, of course he’s empathetic.
“You’re forgetting I lost my mother when I was young. It’s not that easy and at least I had my father and brothers and sister. You didn’t have anyone, did you?”
She couldn’t deny it. The only saving grace to losing her parents was that she was eighteen and didn’t have to go into foster care. “I was living at home when it happened. I’d just graduated high school. My father pulled out in front of a semitruck. The truck couldn’t stop and broadsided them. The car was totaled. My mom was pronounced dead at the scene, but he lived a few days.”
She wanted to share something important with him, and she couldn’t tell him about the baby. Not yet. Sighing heavily, she told him the rest of it—the story she had kept bottled up for years.
“Before he died—when he knew he was dying—my father told me he was in serious debt. Creditors had been breathing down his neck and they were about to take everything. The house, the car—the one he hadn’t wrecked—any money we had in bank accounts. Not that there was any.” Remembering, she added harshly, “He did it on purpose.”
“Jesus, Mia. Did he tell you that?”
“No, of course not. He was too much of a chickenshit to admit it, but I’m certain he committed suicide. And murdered my mother when he did.”