As I polished off the last of my pastry, of which I definitely wanted more, Wyatt answered all my questions. His deep voice wound through my body reminding me that he was a man, a very sexy man.
“The reason that I didn’t object to the script additions of the romance was because it was written with heart not the ooze of cheesiness. It’s a beautiful story with a genuinely happy ending.”
“I take it that you’ve seen it?” I asked, wiping my fingers on a napkin.
“I have. At first it was hard to watch because the movie starts with the events of Kate and Sydney’s accident. I relived it all again, as if I wasn’t already doing that every single day. The cops showing up at my house, the weather and the words they spoke, it was all too vivid.”
A sledgehammer crashed into my heart. I let out a breath and closed my eyes. “Yeah, after I lost Carter and Logan the first months were hell. I remember not sleeping, not eating—self-care went out the window.”
Wyatt’s head bopped up and down as he wiped his mouth. “The nights were the worst. I don’t know how I made it through the days.”
I swallowed through the tightness in my throat, treading lightly with my next question. “How did you manage to work? I mean you buried your family and then you played in two major games . . .” My voice trailed off.
He shook his head, running his index finger along the edge of the table. “I honestly don’t know how. I had to I guess, for Kate and Sydney. Funny thing is that I don’t really remember any of it. I can hear the cheers and remember winning, but I have no idea how it all went down. It sounds stupid, but when I watch the game I feel like I am looking at a completely different version of myself.”
“I don’t think that sounds stupid.”
“I had a lot of people counting on me—teammates, coaches and an entire city.”
My brows lifted. “No pressure.”
Picking up his fork, he blew out a sharp breath. “Yeah, no pressure at all.” He stabbed at the raspberries on his plate.
For the first time, I allowed myself to look at Wyatt, really look at him. His forearms were nice, and doing a very good job of drawing my attention to him, but so was his heartache.
I know that sounds weird, Judy.
When Wyatt spoke about reliving the day he got the news, I knew that pain—I could recall the day I got the phone call so clearly. Other things were fuzzy, but I’d never forget that call. Rain tapped against the windows dragging my focus away from my sad memories.
“So what did you think of breakfast?” he asked, wrapping his long fingers around the coffee mug.
I motioned to my plate. “Obviously it was delicious because I devoured mine way before you finished.”
He gathered up our plates and then carried them to the sink where he proceeded to clean. I stood. “Wait, you don’t have to do that,” I commented, rounding the island. “You cooked, I can clean. That’s the rule.” I snapped my mouth shut. That was mine and Carter’s rule, not me and Wyatt.
Me and Wyatt?
“Have at it. And for the record, I got no problem with that rule.” His voice turned back to a playful tone, hooking his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll just be over here checking the pre-season game schedule.”
I busied myself with the task of rinsing off the dishes and staking them in the dishwasher.
“What do you normally do on Sunday?” he called out while fiddling with the remote.
“Well, usually it’s not raining like this,” I nodded towards the window. “I don’t think I’ve had a chance to get back into my normal routine, yet.”
“And what would a normal routine be for you?” he prompted.
“A quick run followed by a shower then breakfast.”
His head swiveled in my direction. “You’re a runner?”
“I don’t know if I can say that I’m runner anymore because I haven’t really run more than a couple of times since moving here. Plus, I’m too nervous to run out here alone. I need a good trail or something not in the forest.”
“I’d be happy to go running with you. We can walk the woods together,” he suggested. “See if we can carve out a running path or you’re welcome to come over to my place. I’ve got endless open space and the running trails are great.”
My brows arched as I filled up the sink with hot water. “How would you have time? I mean I don’t think you’ll have the time for a running session with me with school starting and all.”
He waved me off. “I run early in the morning, at sunrise. Plus, I’ve only seen one mountain lion near my property since moving here.”
I lifted a shoulder. “On the other hand, I could get a gym membership.”
Walking towards me, his dark brows pinched together. “I just offered no-cost solutions to the series of problems you presented.”
“It makes me feel like a charity case, which I am not.”
Leaning forward, he pressed his palms to the island. “Didn’t say that you were—solutions offered. It’s as simple as that.”
“Okay, I’ll consider your solutions, thank you.”
Simple as that.
After drying the pans, I shoved them into their respective drawers. The rain had moved on, but grey clouds lingered and thunder continued to rumble. It was nerve-wracking yet beautiful all at once.
Wyatt had fallen asleep on the couch and Loki was standing by the sliding glass door.
“You need to go outside, buddy?” I asked, scratching under his chin. As if he would answer me.
I grabbed the leash from the table and shoved my feet into my flip-flops. “Let’s go, boy.”
We trekked down the steps, and he went right away and then he was back up the stairs in a flash. “That was easy, Loki. Good boy.”
He shook out his fur and water sprayed across my legs and the wall. “Oh, I should get a towel for you.”
Wyatt stirred. “Thanks for letting him out.” His arm stretched over his head and I couldn’t help my lingering stare.
“No problem,” I said, sliding my flip-flops off. “He’s so chill.”
Wyatt stood up from the sofa. “Yeah, he’s the best. I adopted him a few months after I moved here. My therapist thought having a companion would do me some good—she wasn’t wrong.”
His eyes met mine when the word “wrong” fell from his lips.
Wyatt cleared his throat. “How about you show me around your place?”
“Uh sure . . . wait, this . . .” I held up my hand. “This isn’t your move is it?”
His brow crinkled. “My move?”
My cheeks heated. “Forget it.”
“I’m into home design, that’s all. I have somewhat of an addiction to HGTV and DIY Network’s home improvement shows. Dale Earnhardt and his wife renovated this home in Key West, and I could not stop watching.”
“Oh, the one with the dead rat and the beautiful kitchen tile backsplash? I totally watched that too!”
He laughed. “That’s the one.”
Wyatt Hamilton and I seemed to have more than just grief and loss in common after all. “Really there’s not much to the house, upstairs are the bedrooms—including an additional guest bedroom.”
“The barn door privacy panels up there are incredible. Is that your loft space?” he asked, running his thumb along his jawline.
“Nope, that’s my bedroom.”
“Do you mind if I take a closer look?”
I cocked a brow. “Um.”
“The barn doors, I mean, not your bedroom.” He gave me an easy smile, waving his arms in the air gesturing towards the space. “I love how the doors open to look down on the first floor.”
My bedroom was clean, and the bed was made. I didn’t have any unmentionables lying around. “Sure, go for it, the open concept was one of the reasons I bought this place. Well, that and my shower.”
Thunder rumbled. Seconds later the lights in my kitchen flickered, followed by flashes of lightning. As Wyatt climbed the staircase, I took the opportunity to check the latest weather report.
“This is a great space,” he announced, running his hand along the edge of the door. He slid one of the doors back and forth paying attention to the sliding mechanism.
“Looks like high winds are in the forecast and guess what?”
He gripped the railing and looked down at me. “What?”
“More rain.”
“You don’t say?” Laughing, he tossed his head back. “I’m coming down.”
I flipped on the radio that sat on top of my refrigerator tuning it to the local country station. Wyatt jogged down the stairs and past Loki, who stirred at the presence of his owner. A tail wag earned Loki a few scratches behind his ears.
“You a country music fan?” he asked.
“Yep, all my life. When Ryleigh and I were in high school we told our mom that we were going to stay at friend’s house. We ended up in outside Park City at the Frontier Mountain Music Fest. It was insane—Alabama, Dixie Chicks, Garth Brooks, Brooks & Dunn, Alan Jackson and so many more artists. We stayed at this shitty hotel. Grabbed snacks from the vending machine and the gas station next door. We smoked pot for the first time that weekend.”
His hazel eyes popped wide. “Ah, the glory days.”
“Absolutely and we didn’t even get busted. Still to this day our parents have no clue. What about you, are you a fan of country music?” I opened the fridge and snagged the fresh pitcher of lemonade I’d made before going to bed last night.
“I am. In fact, I was just at the Rebel Desire concert earlier this summer.”
I eyed him and lifted the pitcher. “You? At a concert? I can’t . . .”
The two of us were getting really good at this silent communication as well as the verbal.
“Believe it,” he said, pointing a finger in my direction. “A buddy of mine had VIP seats and backstage passes. How could I say no?”
I poured the liquid into the glasses and then set the pitcher back inside the fridge. “Yeah, I suppose I wouldn’t turn that down either.”
His fingers brushed over mine as I handed him the glass of lemonade. My eyes burned at the way his fingers stroked over my skin. Looking away from him seemed impossible, and with this eyes trained on mine with an unwavering intensity I could feel the air crackling between us.
If he asks to kiss me right now, I might not turn him down.
“And that is how you play the game,” Wyatt announced, slapping his playing cards on the table.
Florida Georgia Line’s “Simple” drifted through the speakers as the storm rolled through bringing howling winds. I was surprised at my calmness, storms usually have me glued to the television and the app on my phone, but this heated game of higher or lower was doing a good job of taking my mind off the storm outside.
It was well after two in the afternoon. “I’m hungry,” I announced, pushing up from my chair. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat,” he answered, shuffling the deck. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well, obviously grilling is out of the question,” I called from the pantry.
“Yeah, although once, I may or may not have grilled steaks with snow on the ground and in twenty-five-degree weather.”
“You strike me as a guy who wouldn’t let a little bit of weather keep you from a good piece of meat.”
Nice choice of words, Hannah.
He laughed. “Guys’ weekend with my brother and we were doing some dumb shit.”
Scanning my pantry my eyes landed on some spaghetti and I knew I had the ingredients to make the sauce. I scooped up all the necessary items including the bag of Texas Toast. I was going to make some garlic bread. Carb overload here we come.
Balancing everything in my arms, I turned the corner and made it to the island without dropping anything.
“Whatcha making?” Wyatt asked.
When I looked up, I found him standing in front of the sliding glass door. A few seconds later Loki ran inside. “Good boy.”
“Spaghetti and garlic bread.”
“Awesome.” He toweled Loki off and then gave him a treat. “Can I lend a hand?”
“Nah, you relax.” I grabbed the cutting board and my chopping knife from the butcher’s block. “Would you like a drink?”
“Sure.” His fingers slid over the screen on his phone.
“There’s plenty of beer in the fridge in the garage. I have wine and whiskey for cocktails.”
“Shit. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Wyatt’s voice shook with irritation.
“What’s the matter?”
“They’re estimating it could be around six o’clock before the power gets restored. If I have to toss out all my food, I’m gonna be pissed.”
“Yeah, you definitely need that drink,” I suggested, pulling my saucepan from the cupboard.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, and breathed a heavy sigh. “Yep, I am taking you up on that offer. You want one?”
“Nah, I’m going to crack open the white wine here in a minute—working on my sauce game.” I smiled, dumping the can of whole peeled tomatoes into the pan.
Once all the ingredients were in the pan, I began slicing the bread. The door to the garage shut and Wyatt appeared with a beer in hand.
He moved, coming up to stand behind me. “That smells amazing.” His warm breath fanned over my neck, and suddenly the space of my kitchen seemed much smaller. Cracking of thunder erupted outside, filling the house with a buzzing energy.
I couldn’t explain this energy that seemed to spark around us. I didn’t know if we were in some kind of weird vortex or if this was all in my head. Did he feel it too? I guess it didn’t matter what I felt because nothing could ever happen between the two of us. I pushed my lustful thoughts way down and refocused on the task at hand.
“Just wait until I add a pinch of garlic.”
“Yum,” he said, slipping from behind me.
After adding in the garlic and butter, I turned back to the island. “Now it just needs to simmer.”
“I can’t wait to get a taste, Hannah.”
The pulse in my neck thrummed. Those words and the suggestive innuendo had me on edge. No net, no safety harness. Wyatt swallowed his drink; his eyes never leaving mine. Those glowing flecks of amber were drawing me to him, like a moth to a flame.
What am I doing?
Being neighborly. Working on my social skills. Making friends. It was one meal shared by two adults, and then he was going home. Next time, he could go to his brother’s place or the high school.
Wyatt stood up stretching his arms over his head, once more giving me a prime view of his abs. Abs I wanted to touch. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip. Wyatt’s eyes snapped to mine.
“I could just take it off,” he mused gesturing to shirt. “So you can get a better look.”
I shook my head. “I see the arrogance has returned.”
“Sure let’s call it arrogance and pretend that you weren’t ogling my stomach.”
I rolled my eyes and walked towards the fridge. Wine was needed, now.