Me: Please tell me she’s not coming. I don’t think I can handle her and seeing him again at the same time.
Presley: No! She told me she was so sorry to decline, but since she didn’t find out with enough time to make arrangements, she couldn’t make it.
Me: Ha! Sounds like her. It’s still over two months away. She’s something else.
Presley: How are you? Did you decide on the expansion?
What she wants to say is: Are you still sobbing every night? Do you miss him? Why don’t you come back?
My answers: Yes. Yes. Because I’m not a doormat.
Instead I reply.
Me: I’m good. Erin and I are going to hold off.
Three solid knocks sound on my front door, and I hop up from my seat on the couch. I’m sure Nate forgot something. “Did you forget—” the question dies on my lips when I see him.
His dark brown hair, beautiful light brown eyes, face with a light layer of scruff, green shirt with his tight jeans takes my breath away. My memory has done nothing to preserve the way he looks. Everything about him was dull in comparison to real life. “Expectin’ someone?” his Southern drawl is more prominent since I haven’t heard it in a while.
Wyatt Hennington stands in my doorway, taking up every inch of space.
At first, I feel joy. He came here. He’s in Philadelphia, clearly looking for me. I’ve dreamed of this night after night, and finally, he came. Then, another wave of emotion hits, this time it’s confusion. Why the hell is he here? He watched me walk away almost three weeks ago. Did he get lost and end up here? I don’t get it. He made it clear how he felt. Each day that he stayed away, he made a choice . . . what changed?
Finally, I settle on the most prominent feeling I have—anger. So now he shows his face? Out of nowhere and without so much as a text? After letting me feel this horrible pain for weeks? Yeah, well, fuck him. He’s seventeen days too late.
“Not you.” I slam the door in his face.
My back rests against the door, and I hold on to the hurt and anger. Those are emotions I can work with. My heart races as I picture him on the other side of the door.
“Angie.” He knocks again. “Please, baby, open up.”
I spin around and glare at the door. “I’m not your ‘baby’.”
“Can we talk?” he asks. “Please?”
“Nope. Go home, Wyatt. I have nothing to say to you.” That’s not exactly true. Actually, that’s completely untrue. I rip open the door and put my hands on my hips. “You know what? I do have something to say. Screw you. Screw you so hard your dick falls off. I can’t believe you have the balls to show up here like this. You promised me you’d be there for me. That you were going to fight to show me how much I should love you. Good job, jackass. You did that, and then you tossed me out like last night’s trash after we’d just lost our baby! Our daughter died, and you couldn’t man up. We’re done. I’m done crying over you, waiting for you to show up at my door, and I’m fixing this gaping hole you left in my heart myself. I. Am. Done!”
“Good,” he says and steps forward. “We’re both done with the same thing.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Waiting to show up at your door.”
I move back as he comes closer. Then I hear the door shut behind him. “Just go, Wyatt. You don’t belong here.”
“No.” His eyes hold mine. “I’m not leaving. Because I love you. I love you so much it fucking hurts. I love you with every part of my soul. I never understood why people spewed crap like that, until I met you. You’re inside me, and I tried to let you go. I pushed you away because I thought this was what you wanted. I thought I was giving you the life you really missed.” He takes a deep breath through his nose, “Then, I stopped caring about that.”
My mind struggles to keep up. He loves me. I knew this deep inside, even though he tried to tell me different, I knew. Wyatt did more than just push me away. He was blunt force trauma to my heart. Now he says he loves me, but where was all that love three weeks ago? How could he love me and watch me fall apart? Whether he thought he was doing the right thing or not, he still did nothing. Now he’s here, saying all these things. Damn infuriating cowboy.
“You stopped caring?” I take another step back as he approaches.
“I wasn’t myself, baby. I stopped caring because I broke you and me in the process of doin’ what I thought was right. If it hurts being away from you this much, it ain’t right. I can’t sleep in that house without lookin’ for you. I can’t go to the stables without seein’ your face. I can’t go to the bakery because I wait for you to come out from behind the counter. I can’t breathe without you, Angie.”
He’s right about one thing. He broke me. The girl who loves this boy hates seeing him in pain. We’ve been through so much. But the woman who had this man tear her to pieces, doesn’t give a shit.
I’m not sure which side I’m teetering on, but I know I can’t take him back, not when I feel like I can’t trust him.
Because essentially, that’s what he broke . . . my trust in him and in us.
I step off to the side and grip my neck. I don’t know how, once again, I’m going to do this. “You should go home.”
“You are my home.”
“No.” I put my hand up to stop him as he takes yet another step toward me. “You bulldozed our house that night. You set fire to our home.”
“I can rebuild it. I’ll build you a whole new house.”
“Please, stop.”
This is the Wyatt I remember. The one who says exactly the right things. It’s never orchestrated—it’s what’s in his heart.
My anger starts to abate, and I try to hold on. I can’t let him waltz in here and sweet talk me. I have to be strong. I can’t go through another three weeks of what I just did. The crying, the stomach pains, and listlessness. That was hard enough. It’s still hard.
“I know I hurt you.” He follows me when I retreat some more. “I know I wasn’t the man you needed.”
“Stop.”
“No. I was stupid. I was trying to save you, Angie. I was tryin’ to love you enough to let you be happy.”
I huff. “How did that work out? I’ve been miserable. You wouldn’t listen to me. You were doing what you thought was right and didn’t hear what I was saying.”
He stands in front of me and touches my chin. “I love you.”
“I don’t know if that matters right now.”
He lifts my head. “Before we lost Faith and you got that machine at the bakery, I kept thinkin’ how you were leaving anyway. I didn’t understand why you’d want that. You kept talking about needin’ to go back.” He shakes his head and drops his hand. “I kept waiting for you to tell me you wanted to stay.”
“I asked you.” I push back. “I asked you to talk to me, but you kept ignoring me and saying it was nothing. It’s late, Wyatt. I’m tired and I’ve had a horrible day.”
He glances around the apartment, seeing it’s a complete pigsty. The look changes in his eyes. “You had company?”
I look at Nate’s beer, which is still sitting next to my wine glass. “Yes.” I know this is going to piss him off, but at the same time, it’s not my problem. There would’ve never been a visit with Nate had Wyatt not sent me away. Maybe he should think about that. “Does that matter?”
He draws a few breaths before walking forward, grabbing me by the hips, and yanking me to his body. “It matters. Don’t think for one minute that I haven’t been breaking apart since you left. I’ve thought about you every second of every day.” He grips me tighter. “You’re my home. I’m not going anywhere until you’re back where you belong. I don’t give a shit if there’s another man, because I’ll win you back. I’ll show you that I’m serious. I’ll make you love me again.”
Wyatt’s lips are against mine in an instant. He kisses me hard, commanding, and completely by surprise. I don’t have time to react before he pulls back. There are no words in my head. I’m a statue in front
of him.
Then, he gives me a much sweeter peck before walking out the door.
Well, that didn’t go how I thought.
“Good morning, baby.” Wyatt leans against the wall outside my door.
I almost drop my purse as he scares the shit out of me. “What are you doing here?” I hoist my bag over my shoulder.
“Bringing you coffee.” He extends the cup of Starbucks. I don’t have to taste it to know it’s the drink I love. I wonder if it’ll be all that I remember now that he’s touched it. As soon as that thought tumbles through my mind, I want to slap myself. I will not go there. “You look beautiful.”
My hand extends as he hands me the cup of goodness. His fingers brush against mine, and I have to restrain myself from shivering.
Damn him.
Wyatt stands there in his signature jeans and Henley with the sleeves rolled. There’s something insanely sexy about forearms, especially his. The things that stand out the most are his ridiculous belt buckle and cowboy hat. In Tennessee I get it, here . . . no.
“You should go home.”
“I already told you.” He grips my elbow and kisses my cheek. “My home is where you are.”
“Wyatt, just go back. I know you’re sorry. I’m sure you regret whatever, but it’s over. You can’t come here after almost three weeks and think I’m going to run back to Bell Buckle with you.” I cross my arms and stand my ground. If he did it once, there’s nothing to say he won’t do it again. I’m not going to be an idiot—again.
“I live here.”
“Whatever.”
I start down the hall. I have to get to the bakery. There’s still a ton of stuff I’ve missed and need to get caught up on. There’s also a press opportunity with the Eagles that I want to explore. If I can get my feet wet again, I know I’ll be able to have some breathing room.
He walks behind me, but I ignore him. He gets on the elevator, and I still ignore him. Then he walks down the street, and I find it insanely difficult to keep ignoring him, but I manage. However, when he gets in my cab—I lose it.
“Stop! What are you doing?” I yell.
“I’m spending the day with you.”
He is crazy. “Did Presley put you up to this? Is this some sort of hazing that you do in the South when you dump someone?”
Wyatt laughs and throws his arm around the back of my seat. “Baby, I’m here for you. I plan to show you how much you mean to me.”
I groan. “You’ll be gone in a week. This city will eat you alive.”
He shrugs. “Maybe, but it’ll be pretty hard since I signed a lease two days ago for the apartment next to yours.”
My eyes widen, and my heart races. “You did what?” I screech.
“I sublet, or whatever they call it here, the apartment next to yours. I’m livin’ here now. Know anyone who could use a rancher? I’ll probably need to get a job at some point.”
“Wyatt!” I gasp. “You can’t move here! Do you see any freaking horses or cows? No! What the hell are you going to do?”
This is crazy—completely, certifiably insane. I can’t believe he moved here. Once again, he’s shocked me.
“I’ll be fine for a year or so, but after that, I’ll need a job. I’ve been told I make a pretty mean cappuccino.” He smirks. “If not, I’m sure I’ll figure something out. I will warn you that I plan to see a lot of you.”
“You—” I stop. “I can’t . . . you . . .” My hands cover my face. “Why would you move here?”
He leans back and tosses his leg over his knee. “To win you back.”
I sigh and shake my head. “You can’t win me back.”
“I will.”
“You won’t.” I deadpan.
Wyatt leans close and brushes his finger down my cheek. “But I will.”
EVERY MORNING STARTS THE SAME. Wyatt is outside my door with coffee and sometimes breakfast. He follows me to work, searches the newspaper for jobs, and then accompanies me back home. It’s absolutely maddening and utterly adorable. I was only able to ward him off for the first two days he followed me. The other two I’ve failed miserably.
But each day he’s back again.
I’m in the bakery, looking out the porthole door as he sits there. He signed a freaking lease. He moved all his shit here. I didn’t really believe him until he showed me his apartment. There it all was, our couch, his bed, the dressers, and everything we shared in Tennessee. He wasn’t joking.
What am I going to do about him?
It’s really hard when I still love him. That’s never changed. I just couldn’t stay there and be his punching bag. I don’t doubt that, in his twisted mind, he convinced himself that pushing me away was the right thing to do. But it wasn’t.
He didn’t understand what he was doing only caused me more anguish. It wasn’t what I wanted, and I think I was pretty damn clear when I told him otherwise.
“I made a new cupcake flavor,” Meghan, our baker, tells me.
“Great.” I keep my gaze on him. “I’m sure it’s delicious.”
“I could use another opinion. Do you think our new squatter will try?”
I twist to see if I heard her correctly and find her looking at Wyatt through the window. “No, he’s not really here.”
“Well, I see him, and the employees can’t help but to notice him.” Meghan looks to me and sighs. “He’s really hot, Ang.”
“And an idiot.”
“Most men are,” she retorts. “Well, I’m going to find out what he thinks. I’m sure he’s lonely sitting out there all day by himself.”
He’s not lonely. He has a constant flow of females attending to him, but he smiles politely and then looks for me. It’s frustrating the heck out of me. Once again, I’m falling victim to his charms.
Who can blame me? Coffee each morning, food, his attention, and the man moved everything he owned to a freaking apartment in Philadelphia that I know is not cheap.
“Is it a baker thing?” I wonder aloud. “Do you all meddle for a living?”
She laughs as she walks out the door.
Meghan heads over to Wyatt and sits beside him. She giggles, and he smiles as she hands him the cupcake. Of course she’s unable to resist him.
He’s not even close to the man I walked away from. The man sitting at that table is the Wyatt I fell in love with.
“You’re a fool,” Erin says from behind me. Why is everyone sneaking up on me today? Oh, yeah. It’s because I’m distracted by a cowboy I’m trying desperately to ignore, that’s why.
“Seems to be the consensus.”
“He doesn’t seem to be leaving any time soon.”
She’s right. He has no intention of going away. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” I turn and lean against the wall.
Erin shakes her head. “I won’t tell you what to do, but I will say that I’ve never seen a guy give up his whole life for a girl he only liked.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I know that. I can’t let go of some of the things he said.”
“Well, I don’t know all the details, but he clearly loves you. I can only imagine how badly you both were struggling in the face of unimaginable grief. I’m not saying that gives him a free pass, but maybe a little forgiveness?”
“You don’t even know him!” I say with exasperation.
Sure he’s here and clearly being sweet, and I’m not too foolish to see that. However, that doesn’t erase the way he made me feel. Then again, he was struggling, and not just with our relationship. He was getting hit from every angle.
“I don’t have to know him to see how much he loves you.”
“Shut up.” I grin at her.
“How long do you plan to make him suffer?”
“I think he can wait it out a bit more.”
She nods. “Definitely make him feel the pain for a bit longer, just don’t let it go on too long or one of your employees will scoop him up and ride off on that horse of his into the sunset.”
Yeah, that’s defini
tely not going to happen.
They continue to talk and my phone rings. “Hey, Mrs. Kannan.”
“Hi, sugar. I hope I’m not bothering you.”
I walk away from the window and head toward the back of the store. “Of course not. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m just fine. I got that fancy coffee maker and I can’t figure out how to turn the dang thing on! It’s got so many buttons and different spouts. What ever happened to a good ole cup of Folgers?”
I can’t stop the smile that forms. I can picture her tossing her hands in the air as she walks around. I miss her something fierce. I miss them all.
“I’m sure it came with a manual.”
“Sugar, that book was a hundred pages long. I’ll be dead before I figure out how to actually make a mocha whatever it is you call it.”
“Macchiato.”
“Whatever,” she says with exasperation, and I giggle.
“Don’t you laugh at me now. I’m going to need you to get your tiny butt back here and teach me how to use this contraption.”
“I wish it were that simple.” It could be, but I feel as if I’d be giving in too easily. I have no doubt that she knows he’s here. If his mother knows, she knows. And my intuition tells me there’s more to this phone call than the machine, but I can’t be sure.
Mrs. Kannan is known for her interfering. If I let my guard drop even a millimeter, she’ll pounce.
A long pause goes by before she says anything. “I’ve been around a long time, honey. Long enough to know when two people are bein’ just plain stupid. Forgiving someone isn’t a surrender, it’s a gift. One that not only saves the other person, but also yourself. I could sit here and lead you around in circles.” She sighs. “But I won’t this time. Not for something so important. Wyatt screwed up. Lord knows that. He knows that more than anyone. I don’t know that I have ever seen him as devastated as I did the day you left.”
“Mrs.—” I start.
“Listen, darlin’. I’ve been married a long time, and more than once, one of us was ready to walk out that door. It was a choice to forgive the other person for whatever hurtful things we said or did. I could’ve left him. Hell, I probably should’ve.” She laughs. “I just know that no matter how bleak a situation looks, it doesn’t mean that y’all can’t find your way back to each other.”
Say You Want Me Page 22
