Sam leaned forward and fixed him in his sights. “So that’s it? You’re going to give up?”
“I have to respect her wishes, don’t I?” He had no clue what to do, and his gut twisted just thinking about it. “How’s your love life these days, Jo?”
“Phsssht,” she hissed out. “I’m on a break from dating right now. That’s how it’s not going.” She drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “Way to deflect.”
She and Sam stared at him . . . and waited. “What? I guess I’ll give being her friend a try, and suffer through that for a while.”
Josey flashed him an “it sucks to be you” look. “Want me to fix you up with one of my friends?”
“No, but thanks.”
“You have friends?” Sam teased. “Since when?”
“F.U.” Josey picked up her soda, her middle finger sticking out from the plastic glass. “Have I ever told you you’re my favorite brother, Wyatt? Because you are.”
He laughed, and the three of them settled into their usual teasing and talk about work, though his mind strayed once again to his more pressing problem. Should he try to persuade Kayla to see things his way, or should he let it go? Would attempting to persuade her to his point of view only make things worse? It did suck to be him.
Chapter Seven
“Phew, something stinks in here.” Kayla stood in her kitchen, waving her hand in front of her face. She tossed her napkin and the bit of crust left from her sandwich into the trash bin before pulling out the offending plastic garbage bag and tying it shut. “As soon as Mariah and Rosie get here, I’m taking this to the dumpster.”
Brady spared her a nod and went back to slurping what was left of his tomato soup. “Can me and Rosie have ice cream when she gets here?”
“Can Rosie and I have ice cream,” she corrected. “If it’s all right with her mom, it’s all right with me.” Wyatt’s image, the evening he stayed for her chicken noodle soup, popped into her mind. Seeing him so pleased over something as simple as Oreo-cookie ice cream had scrambled her brain. His crooked smile and the warmth in his eyes whenever he looked her way . . . damn, he got to her. She especially loved how he fist-bumped with Brady, like the two of them belonged to a private club. Wyatt was so different from her husband. Brad had mostly been annoyed and inconvenienced by their precious son. Poor Brady.
She blinked against the sudden sting in her eyes. Since she’d met Wyatt, her husband came to her mind far too frequently, which churned up all the hurt, the helpless frustration and the betrayal. She couldn’t help making comparisons, and Wyatt was the clear winner in that game.
Had she been a fool to turn Wyatt down the way she had? Second-and third-guessing her decision had plagued her all day, and she hadn’t slept well last night either. Reliving Wyatt’s kisses and how he’d held her—as if she really meant something to him—had kept her tossing and turning until dawn. She’d had no experience with being wanted and treasured by a man, and she’d turned him away. Because I’m not ready. I’m not. She swiped away the few tears that had escaped.
“Hello,” Mariah called through her door. “We’re here.”
“Come on in.” Kayla shoved her roiling emotions back into the box and hefted the garbage bag. Pasting a smile on her face, she met the two at the door. “You can put Rosie’s overnight bag on the couch. I have to take this down to the dumpster. Make yourselves at home, and I’ll be right back. Brady’s in the dining room finishing his supper.”
“OK. We’ll join him.”
“Thanks.” She slid out the door and headed for the stairs. Just as she got to the back door, Floyd appeared on the landing. “Hey, Floyd. How’s it going?”
“Not good. I’m looking for a new caretaker job. Can’t see paying full rent for a basement apartment in this dump.”
“That’s too bad.” What else could she say, since she didn’t hate to see him go. He followed her out the back door and to the dumpster.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I suppose you heard the guy who lives in the apartment beneath yours got the job to rewire this place, huh?”
“No. I hadn’t heard.” A thrill shot through her. She lifted the lid and tossed her bag inside. “That’s good news.”
“It would be, ’cept he’s an asshole.”
“No, he’s not. He’s a great guy.” She glowered. “The code violations need to be fixed, and since Wyatt lives here, he has a vested interest. I’m sure he’ll do an excellent job.”
“The part about needing to be fixed I agree with, but here’s what you don’t know,” he said, leaning closer like he had a juicy bit of gossip he was sure she’d want to hear. “When Haney sent the bid to the insurance company, he included copies of pictures and letters he’d sent to the owners before the fire. Haney’s been complaining about code violations since he moved in.” He straightened, his expression angry. “Because of him, the insurance company won’t pay out on the claim due to negligence on the part of the owners.”
She frowned. “How do you know all of this?”
“My uncle is an accountant for the company that owns this place and a few others in the area. He got me the job as caretaker here, but thanks to the weirdo on the first floor, they won’t hire me for any of their other buildings.”
“Pointing out violations was the responsible thing to do, Floyd. The owners can’t pretend they didn’t know, and they could’ve brought the building up to code at any time. They chose not to. That is negligence on their part.”
“But—”
“Regardless of what you think about Wyatt Haney, the insurance company would’ve seen the code violations once they inspected the property. Chances are, they would’ve denied the claim anyway. The fire in my unit forced the issue; that’s all. It really doesn’t have anything to do with Wyatt, and you said yourself he wasn’t the only one who complained about the lack of upkeep around here.”
“I’ll admit the place looks like crap, but the owners wouldn’t spring for the materials I needed to do the job,” he whined. “The vacuum cleaner I got stuck with is at least fifteen years old and hardly picks up anything anymore. The owners refused to reimburse me for paint, caulk or even concrete to patch the cracks in the stairs and sidewalk out front. And I know that has to be another code violation. After my second year here, I quit paying for supplies out of my own pocket.” His tone defensive, he surveyed the cracked asphalt in the back lot. “What was I supposed to do?”
“I’m sorry. I had no idea. I don’t think anyone did.” She edged away from him, making for the back door. “I’ve got to get back up to my son. I hope you find a better place soon.” She dashed inside before he could rant anymore.
She couldn’t see how who paid made any difference one way or another. Had the building owners taken care of the issue years ago, they would’ve had to pay for it themselves then, anyway. As they should have, since they knew updates were needed. At least the citation meant the wiring would be taken care of soon, and she could stop using extension cords. She’d be able to use her window AC, which would be a huge relief.
Would Wyatt be in her apartment when she and Brady were home, or would he do the work while she was away at school? Drat. She’d have to get up extra early to straighten the place up and make the beds.
Kayla walked back into her apartment and to the dining area. “What time does your shift start tonight?” she asked. In trade for watching Brady the previous night, Kayla had agreed to take Rosie overnight.
“Ten. Mind if I hang out for a while?”
“I’d love it. We can catch up.”
“Mommy,” Brady chimed, “don’t forget.”
“Right. Can Rosie have i-c-e c-r-e-a-m?”
“Only if I can have some too.” Mariah laughed.
“Of course.” Kayla busied herself with dishing out four bowls of ice cream and setting them on the table. She slipped into her chair, yawning so hard her jaw made a cracking sound. “I stayed up way past my bedtime last night.”
“But you had fun, didn�
��t you?” Mariah asked. “I’m dying to hear.”
Kayla glanced at the children. Both were absorbed in their dessert and in each other. She leaned closer. “Wyatt isn’t engaged after all. It’s his brother, Sam, who’s getting married, and Wyatt is his best man.”
“I had a feeling you were wrong about that. The way Wyatt looks at you . . .” Mariah cocked an eyebrow. “Not at all like a guy who’s in love with somebody else.”
“Hmm.” She chopped at the ice cream in her bowl with the edge of her spoon. “So, last night Wyatt thought we were on a date, while I thought he might be trying to fix me up with his older brother.”
“That must have been . . . interesting,” Mariah chuckled. “I’m glad you two got it straightened out. Did he kiss you good night?”
“He did.” She sighed. “Twice.”
“Yay!” Mariah’s volume shot up, and the two children focused owl-eyed on them for a few seconds.
“Can me and Rosie go play now?” Brady asked. He’d already set up an elaborate village of Lego forts, superheroes, heroines and plastic animals in his bedroom in anticipation of Rosie’s arrival.
“Thank heavens for short attention spans,” Kayla muttered, rising from her chair. “Sure, let’s get some of the sticky off you two first.” She went to the sink and dampened a couple of paper towels. After the children wiped their hands and faces, they ran off down the hall.
“So, last night was a date. That’s great, Kayla.”
“No, it’s not. After the kisses, I told Wyatt I can’t date him.” She shouldn’t have kissed him, but, man, she couldn’t deny how much she’d enjoyed their moment under the soft glow of the streetlight. “I’m not ready.”
“Girl, you are way too young to cut yourself off like that. Wyatt is one of the good guys, and you’re crazy to let him get away.”
“Let him get away?” She snorted. “You make it sound like I’ve snared him.” Anger flared, and her chest tightened. Her husband had believed she’d gotten pregnant on purpose to trap him. She hadn’t. Neither of them had planned on sex that night, but there’d been drinking involved. Things just went too far, and BAM.
“You know what I mean. Don’t let this opportunity pass you by. You might regret it later. How long are you planning to keep yourself isolated like you do? Would your husband want to see you continue to mourn him like this?”
“I hadn’t thought about a specific time frame, Mariah.” She wasn’t mourning, more like decompressing and hibernating, but she’d keep that to herself. Brad wouldn’t have cared one way or the other. “At least until I’m finished with my program.” She got up to clear the table.
“Did you hear Wyatt’s construction company is doing the rewiring here?” she asked, carrying the bowls to the sink.
“I didn’t know he had a company.” Mariah joined her in the kitchen and dropped the spoons into the sink.
“He’s an electrician and a partner in his family’s construction business.” Kayla shared what she’d learned from Floyd, relieved that she’d managed to turn the conversation away from dating. “Dishes can wait. Let’s go sit in the living room.”
“Fine by me. I’m going to be on my feet all night.” Mariah followed her to the couch, sat down and propped her feet on the coffee table.
She’d never told Mariah how miserable her marriage had been, or that her husband had planned to divorce her. She’d never told a soul about Brad’s letter until last night. Something about Wyatt’s shy, sensitive nature had gotten through her reserve. He’d listened without judgment, offering only sympathy and understanding. At least he’d agreed to be her friend.
Did I make a mistake? Her head said no while her heart argued the point. She shook the thought off. She needed time to heal before she’d be ready to open up her heart—if she ever got to that point again. Brad had made it his mission to make her feel worthless and stupid, like everything wrong between them had been her fault. He was probably on the other side right now, blaming her for the fact that he’d joined the army. Somehow, in his mind, his stupid accident would’ve been her fault too.
By standing on her own, finishing school and starting a career, she’d prove Brad wrong. She wasn’t stupid or worthless, dammit. She needed to know she could rely on herself first, before she learned to rely on someone else. Then, if she ever did fall in love, she’d be on equal footing with her partner, whoever he might be. “Enough about me. How are things going with you and Drew?”
“Great, but he’s pushing to take our relationship to the next level, and I’m not there yet.”
“The next level meaning what?”
“Moving in together.” Hurt flickered through Mariah’s eyes. “It’s such a hassle when everything falls apart. My divorce tore Rosie to pieces, and she’s just now beginning to adjust to only having weekends and the occasional evening with her dad. What if Drew and I do move in together, and then we split up? I don’t want to put Rosie through that again. I don’t want a string of men passing through her life. When and if I commit, I need to be sure it’s going to stick before taking any next steps.”
“Then you get where I’m coming from. It’s the same for me.”
“Nuh-uh.” Mariah grimaced. “You lost your husband because of an accident, not because you two split up. It’s entirely different. There are no weekends with Dad without Mom for Brady. He doesn’t have to say good-bye to one of his parents over and over.”
“You think having no father at all is preferable to having a weekend dad? I don’t agree.” Brady really hadn’t had much of a dad anyway. Bitterness reared its ugly head. “Have you forgotten? Brady’s dad was mostly gone anyway, because he was deployed.”
Mariah covered her mouth for a second. “Oh, Kayla, I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”
“It’s OK. You’re right. Our situations are different, but I don’t want a string of men passing through Brady’s life either, or mine. My concerns and yours are the same, but for right now, it’s . . . easier all around if I just don’t date at all.” And way less painful.
“I’m sure, but easier doesn’t always mean better. It would be good for you to get out and have some fun. School and single parenting are tough, and we all need breaks. Don’t you want to fall in love again? What about sex? You gotta miss sex.”
“Sex is highly overrated.” She snorted at her own whopper. Wyatt in all his tall, lanky sexiness had become the main X-rated feature film in her dreams lately, leading to lots of restless turning, tossing and sheet tangling. “There’s nothing wrong with choosing to remain single. Lots of women are making that choice.”
She and Brad had been a couple of horny teenagers with a mutual curiosity. That’s all. As for loving again, she hadn’t loved or been loved the first time around, so there was no again for her. “I’m happy with my life, and I’m looking forward to starting my career.” The looking-forward part was true, but the happy part, not so much. Her life had gone into a holding pattern. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”
“Sure.” Mariah slid her a “I know you’re changing the subject” look.
Kayla picked up the remote from the coffee table and handed it to her. “You choose. I’ll go check on the munchkins.”
She left Mariah to scroll through movies. Animated chatter and giggles, followed by a loud thump, met her in the hallway leading to Brady’s room. “You two better not be jumping off the bed,” she called, her spirits lifting. Her words were followed by utter silence. She leaned against the doorframe of her son’s bedroom and crossed her arms. Two pairs of overly innocent eyes met hers.
“Sorry, Mommy.” Brady picked up his Superman action figure, studying it closely. “We won’t jump off the bed anymore.” He slanted a conspiratorial look at Rosie, who covered her mouth and giggled.
“Good.” She had to work at squelching a smile. School and Brady were enough for her. At least the holding pattern was a relief from the stress she’d been under with Brad. She was making a life for herself and her son and standing
on her own two capable feet.
The back of her throat did that tingly, pretears thing, and so did her eyes. Had Mariah been right? Had she been isolating herself from the possibility of further hurt? Brad had run her down so many times and in so many ways. Proving him wrong had become the driving force in her life.
He was gone. She was doing really well in school, and her little boy was thriving. So, why did this need to prove herself still consume her?
Kayla helped Brady get settled into his booster seat in the back of her saunalike car. “We’re hitting the nearest fast-food drive-through on the way home, kiddo. It’s way too hot to cook, and I’m beat.” Even leaving her car in the sun for the ten minutes it took to pick up Brady from day care had caused the interior to turn into an oven again.
“Yay!” Brady threw a fist up in the air.
The temperature had hit the midnineties, and her day had been long and exhausting. The air-conditioning had been out at school, and she’d been sweating all day. A bead of perspiration trickled from her forehead into her eye, and her scrubs stuck to her. “Yay is right.”
She might even risk using the window air in her apartment this evening. When would Haney & Sons start on her apartment? It had been Tuesday when she’d heard they’d gotten the job. The permits had been taped to the front door by Wednesday, and Floyd had notified everyone in the building that work would be done in their apartments. This was Thursday. She hadn’t caught even so much as a glimpse of Wyatt since she’d told him she couldn’t date him. Was he avoiding her?
She mopped her forehead with her sleeve, and then retied her ponytail to keep the hair off the back of her neck. Once the car was started, she turned the AC to full blast, but the air coming from the vents was no cooler than the interior of the car. A nice cool shower once they got home was definitely a priority. She pulled out of the parking lot while planning her evening, which included standing in front of her window air for as long as she could before a fuse blew.
Turning into the McDonald’s halfway between school and home, her mouth watered. A very large soda with lots of ice sounded really good right now. “Cheeseburger Happy Meal, Brady?”
Whatever You Need (The Haneys Book 2) Page 11
