by Lee Kilraine
“Yes,” Beck said.
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. Eli can be here for this. I just told Beck I don’t want to be an architect.”
Eli’s eyes went big. “Holy shit, hold that thought.” He moved back to the door, stuck his head out of the office, and hollered down the hall, “Hey! Gray, Ash! Get in here!”
They both strolled in. Ash was drinking some green energy drink and leaned with his side against the window while Gray stood next to Eli, arms crossed over his chest, waiting so he could get back to what he was doing.
“Go ahead,” Eli prompted. “Say it again. Tell them what you just told us.”
Damn. I knew this would be a big deal. I thought about saying I was kidding and walking back to my office, but the vision of Rhia’s face as she read through the stack of rejection letters weighed me down and held me in my chair.
“I don’t want to be an architect.” I held my breath while I watched all my brothers, trying to gauge their reactions. But they didn’t react at first. My brothers stood frozen for a tick of time, and then they reacted all at once.
“See? Called it.” Eli held out his hand, and the other three each pulled out their wallets and withdrew money. Even Beck.
“What the hell?”
Beck shook his head. “I guess Eli’s the only one paying attention around here. Because damn, I didn’t see this coming, Wyatt.”
“I’m sorry.” Beck hadn’t asked me for anything. Ever. Not that I could recall. I hated blindsiding him like this.
“Don’t be sorry, for fuck’s sake,” Ash said.
“What I want to know is what took you so long?” Eli asked.
“What took me so long? The fact that I didn’t know how I felt myself until just the last couple weeks. I’ll be honest, I feel like crap making this announcement when I’m within a few months of being able to finally pay you back.” I ran a hand through my hair and around my neck.
“Whoa, wait. Paying us back for what?” Ash moved to stand beside my chair.
“For everything? For raising me. For taking beatings that should have been mine. For the way all of you protected me. Each of you sacrificed to help me pay for college. Which I’m about to throw away. Dammit. I’m a selfish asshole. Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
“You owe us nothing,” Beck said. “Each and every one of us suffered and sacrificed and in some way contributed so that we all ended up here. Men, better than our father ever was on his best day. Decent men with a future and a need to give back.”
“Did you ever think you gave us the most important thing of all?” Gray asked.
“What in the world could I have given you?”
“A reason to keep going.” Gray’s eyes held mine. “There were some crap days when we didn’t want to deal, but we’d look at you, this quiet, innocent kid, knowing all you had was us and pull it together for another day.”
Eli stroked his beard before shoving his hand in between the bib of his overalls and his shirt. “All we expect from you, Wyatt, from any of us really, is to live a good life. That’s it.”
Well, darn. I’d have tried hard to figure this out a long time ago if I’d known it would be this easy.
“Eli has that exactly right.” Beck nodded at Eli before moving his gaze to me. “Now, do you have something else in mind or are you planning on being some roadie for a band?”
“Wyatt doesn’t even like music,” Eli said. Side note: He was wrong about that. Thanks to sharing an office with Rhia, I’d grown to like music over the past two months.
“I know exactly what I want to do. I want to make handcrafted furniture.”
“Of course you do. Fuck, you’re good at it. Why the hell didn’t we suggest that long ago?” Ash said. “All right, I hate to say this, but we’re actually going to have to listen to Eli more. He was right again.”
“Or don’t.” Eli grinned and stroked a hand along his beard. “I’m making some good money on these bets we’ve got going, so I don’t mind.”
“I guess the question is, do you hate architecture so much that you need out now? Or can you still help us out at SBC while you start on your furniture? Using outside certified architects is not a problem at all, I just need to plan for the jobs we’ve got going.”
“I don’t hate architecture. Not at all.” It was just that woodworking fed my soul. “I’m happy to continue on in the same capacity I’ve been working. Even once I’m making furniture—assuming I’ve got people willing to buy it—I’d like to stay part of SBC.”
Beck nodded. “We can work with that.
Chapter 28
Rhia
“Hey, how’s the office?” Gray popped his head into my doorway and grinned. “No Wyatt scowling at you and telling you to keep your hands off his stuff or turn down your music. Sweet, right?”
Let me go on record and say I’m not a big crier. Hallmark movies, homeless animals, weddings, goodbyes, Budweiser commercials, when someone eats the last Reese’s peanut butter cup from the freezer… sure. Who doesn’t cry at those things? Otherwise, I hardly cried.
But I looked into Gray’s eyes and burst into tears. Big sloppy tears.
“Oh, shit.” He looked behind him, maybe hoping someone else would come along and deal with my tears, but it wasn’t his lucky day any more than it was mine. He stepped into my new, solitary office, shutting the door behind him. “Rhia? Oh, man. I am the worst Thorne for this, but I’ll try. If you want to talk… I’m here to listen.”
“Yeeesss, I need to talk to someone.” I grabbed a handful of tissues, scrubbed my face, blew my nose, and sucked in a shaky breath. “Your brother—your disgustingly nice, thoughtful, yet sometimes very, very wrongheaded brother, Wyatt—tried to do something nice for me and I… I yelled at him.”
Gray sat on the edge of my desk just as I threw myself against the back of my chair and stared up at the ceiling.
“You yelled at Wyatt? Wow. I’ve never even yelled at Wyatt. I mean, the guy never does anything wrong.”
“I knowwww,” I said on a wail because just thinking about yelling at Wyatt had me upset all over again. “How could I? Especially after he opened up to me? Why would I do something so stupid, Gray, why?”
“If I said because you’re a woman, would it help you laugh or make you want to punch me? Totally kidding, by the way, so relax that fist please.” He reached over, handing me another tissue. “Look, all I know is love makes people do dumb things.”
“What? No, I don’t—”
Gray cocked his head and quirked an eyebrow at me. “I was talking about Wyatt.”
“Oh, oh, sure. Oh, God. You think Wyatt might love me? How could he? Especially after I’ve been such a pain in the ass the last two months. And I was… I was downright mean to him, Gray. He thought he was doing something nice—you know how he is—just the nicest guy. But did I take a darn breath and let myself remember that? No, no I didn’t.”
“The thing is, Rhia, Wyatt’s sort of always been a solitary guy. He doesn’t open up to many people, so if he opened up to you, I’m thinking it means something. Something important.”
My head hurt, my throat ached, and my heart squeezed in my chest, knowing I’d hurt Wyatt. “No. He doesn’t love me. He met my family, and he feels sorry for me. He said, with everything he’d been through as a child, he thought he’d had it easier growing up than I did. Same as he says about you.”
Gray leaned forward, setting his eyes in line with mine. “What do you mean ‘same as he says about you’? Wyatt thinks he had it easier than I did growing up?”
“Than all of you.”
“Is that what he told you?” Gray’s eyes locked on mine before he stood, turned his head away, threw his hands on his hips, and released a sharp breath. “Well, the thing is, when we got split up, during those years when Dad was still around, we each got placed with another brothe
r. Beck was with Ash and Eli. I was with Ryker. So, we had each other. Always. Wyatt didn’t. He always got placed alone because he was so young. Our mother left when he was two, and he was four the first time he went in the system. He shut down. Stopped talking. Wyatt didn’t talk for five years.”
“What do you mean—didn’t talk?”
“I mean he didn’t speak one word. To anyone. It was an ugly time filled with a lot of turmoil and a lot of change. We were shuffled between the system and our dad, whenever he stayed sober long enough.”
Oh, God.
“Thank God he finally got some stability when the elderly couple took him in when he was nine—but at their age, they said they could only handle one foster child, which I don’t begrudge them. Lord knows we need more good foster parents. But it meant, once again, Wyatt was alone.”
It all made terrible, sad sense. That scared, silent little boy had grown into the quiet, serious Wyatt I’d met when we first started sharing his office.
“For five years while the rest of us where paired up, Wyatt was alone. His foster parents were nice, but they had no idea how to draw out a young, damaged boy. They couldn’t see how lonely he was.” Gray lifted his eyes, full of turmoil and intensity. “Knowing Wyatt, I’m sure he does actually believe he had it easiest. I’m telling you he’s wrong.”
Wyatt hadn’t said a word for five years. Five years. Yet, quiet, solitary Wyatt had confided in me. It meant something. Something more important than I imagined. And I’d blown it.
“I’ve got a client meeting in five minutes. Are you okay? I could cancel it….” Gray searched my face to judge how much of a hot mess I still was.
“I’m good. Thanks, Gray.” My thoughts were scattered every which way, but I had a business to run. I had people who put their trust in me to help them celebrate the special events in their lives. I wasn’t going to let them down.
Gray gave me a nod, his hand on the doorknob. “Okay. Don’t forget the weekly SBC meeting later today.”
Cheese and crackers, I’d forgotten about the meeting. I frowned at the thought of having to face Wyatt. It might be easier to skip today until everything had settled down a bit.
“FYI: Wyatt can stew on things a good while. Probably better to face him sooner rather than later.”
“Ugh.” I rolled my eyes and made a face. “Anyone ever tell you Thorne brothers that you can be a big pain in the ass?”
“The line forms to the left.” Gray winked at me on his way out.
* * * *
I walked into my old office—Wyatt’s office—for the weekly SBC meeting with a combination of anticipation and dread. Instead of the flutter of butterflies in my stomach, the butterflies felt like they were hiding, nervously waiting and clogging up my chest, until I got this first face-to-face with Wyatt over.
But those butterflies had to wait because Wyatt didn’t look at me as I took my seat down at the opposite end of the conference table. He kept his gaze glued on his hands, where they sat clasped in his lap.
What? Were we going to simply ignore each other for the rest of my year here? Yeah, based on my inability to relax and take a full breath, that wasn’t going to work for me.
My gaze went around the table to see all the brothers were seated. Hope was next to Beck. She winked at me. Must be a genetic thing with these Thorne winkers. I gave her a stiff smile back. Nothing personal, but my heart and mind were distracted by one of her brothers.
“Okay, first up…” Beck looked around the table. “Whose turn is it to hire the next receptionist? I’ve lost track.”
“Mine,” Hope said.
“Hope? You aren’t even on the payroll,” Eli said.
“I am now. I hired myself as your receptionist. Temporary receptionist.” She looked around the table with her green eyes almost daring each of her brothers to contest her. “I thought three days would be enough to get to know you. It’s not. So, I’ve taken a leave of absence from my job to spend a little more time here.”
Ash smiled. “I’m good with that.”
“Me too,” Eli said.
Wyatt nodded once. Gray gave Hope a wink and a nod.
“Okay. Good. I’m glad, Hope.” Beck’s smile was probably biggest of all. Happy and satisfied. “Pretty lucky break that you happen to be a receptionist.”
“Oh, I’m not a receptionist.”
“What are you?”
“A mechanic.”
“Damn. Now I can’t load test your battery,” Wyatt muttered. “I’ll have to come up with something else.”
Gray grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll figure something out.”
I had no idea what they were talking about, but to be fair, I was having a hard time paying attention, sitting here, worrying about this space between me and Wyatt. The fact that he was ignoring me had me on edge. I knew I couldn’t take much more.
“Moving on,” Beck said. “Next up, where are we on the Whistler—”
“Excuse me. Can we move right to the grievances?” I asked.
The brothers all darted their gazes around to each other. Beck looked at Gray. Gray looked over at Ash. Ash looked at Beck. Eli looked at Wyatt. Wyatt looked down at his hands. Hope looked at all her brothers, watching them look at each other.
Beck finally shrugged and said, “Uh, I don’t see why not. So, any grievances this week?”
“Yes. I’ve got a grievance,” I said, my gaze on Wyatt.
Chapter 29
Rhia
“I’ve got a big grievance,” I repeated, still trying to get Wyatt to look at me. “Wyatt, you did the most idiotic, frustrating, pompous, know-it-all, cocksure thing and…”
Everyone waited quietly, all eyes on me, except for the one set I needed. As the silence dragged out, finally, finally Wyatt looked up and met my gaze with his gray-blue eyes.
“…and I want to thank you.”
“Excuse me?” He stayed slumped back in his chair, but the muscles in his forearms had gone defined and tense, the veins like tight cords under his skin.
“I said I want to thank you.” The way Wyatt and I had left everything weighed heavy on my chest, and I wanted to unload it. I didn’t like this feeling like a brick wall had risen between us. Even the blue tape line would be too much after all we’d been through. “I’m sorry I got mad at you.”
“You had every right. It was wrong of me to go behind your back like that. You should be mad at me.”
“I just told you I wasn’t mad at you.”
“But you should be.”
“But I’m not anymore.”
“Are you two dating?” Beck asked.
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” Wyatt said, pausing, his eyes roaming over my face before settling back on mine. “She’s having my babies.”
“Excuse me? Want to run that by us again?” Ash arched an eyebrow at him.
“Triplets.”
“Holy shit!” Gray snorted a laugh, his gaze ping-ponging back and forth between Wyatt and me.
“He’s totally kidding. I’m not pregnant. Definitely not having triplets.” I smiled over at Wyatt, shaking my head at him. “Wyatt Thorne, you are so bad.”
All his brothers sat up and leaned forward at the table. Hope looked mesmerized by the whole scene.
“Wyatt hasn’t been bad a single moment in his life,” Eli said. “What are you talking about?”
“Uh… The lies he told my family about roadkill stew and the triplets, and the excellent champagne he took from my mother because she was mean to me, and singing duets of show tunes with me at 1:00 a.m. until the neighbors paid us to stop.”
“You know show tunes?” Ash asked Wyatt.
“I can neither confirm nor deny that.” Wyatt didn’t even look at his brothers. His gaze was still on me as if he had wanted me to remember everything we’d
done together. Dared me even.
I bit my lip and darted my eyes away from him.
No way was I mentioning dirty-talking-in-bed-Wyatt, although I was thinking about him. I glanced over at Wyatt where he sat, all casual and sexy with an elbow on one arm of the chair, and his gaze hot on mine, and his lips doing that crooked grin that told me he knew I was thinking about dirty-talking-Wyatt. I blushed and lost my breath.
“You were pretty pissed yesterday morning,” he said. “Rightfully so.”
“I was. But I’ve had time to calm down and see it for what it was. Wyatt Thorne, I’m not used to having someone believe in me. I’m just not. But you—you do. And oh, my God, Wyatt, even though I got rejected from pretty much every publishing house and agent in the free world—having you in my corner—well, it meant a lot.”
“Means a lot.”
“Excuse me?”
“You said meant, past tense. As if my belief in you was over. I’m clarifying. Means, present tense. As in, I will always believe in you. But I’m sorry about the way I went about it. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known how it was going to turn out.”
“I don’t know. Maybe knowing I’m not cut out to be an author is good information to have.”
Wyatt frowned, obviously not ready to forgive himself, even though I’d forgiven him. Baby steps, Rhia.
“Any more grievances?” Beck said. “Going, going…”
“I’ve got a grievance,” Wyatt said, and it froze his brothers mid-everything. Mid conversation. Mid movement. Mid breath.
Gray’s eyebrows rose so high they were almost behind him. “Wyatt, SBC has been in business for over five years, and you’ve never—not once—had a grievance.”
“This is true.” Wyatt nodded. “Today I do. People are touching my stuff and moving it. I’ve let it go, but no more. I’m addressing this to everyone except Hope. And Rhia. Rhia, you can touch my stuff anytime you want.”
Ash scratched his chin. “I thought we just agreed to stop the inventories.”
