No One But You

by Jillian Hart

  “You can’t fool me.” Wyatt held his heart still, so he wouldn’t feel a thing. “He’s the center of your world.”

  “Guilty.”

  “It’s been good catching up.” He leaned against the fender, not ready to let her go.

  “It has. Listen, I don’t want you to feel pressured about the hoop fest thing. Jake’s just excited to know you.”

  “No problem. It has to be tough growing up without a dad. I’m glad that’s something I never had to do. Losing Granddad was tough enough.”

  “Rumor had it that’s why you left Buffalo suddenly.” She nodded once, remembering. “Your father took over the business in Vancouver.”

  “Three days after you told me we were over. I never got the chance to say goodbye.”

  “I always regretted that.”

  “And the way you yelled at me in the middle of the cafeteria?”

  “Did I really yell?”

  “No, but it felt like it.”

  “I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

  “I’m sure you were right.” His hand covered hers, warm and strong and comforting.

  She didn’t want to find comfort in his touch. She never wanted to need a man again. So why did her heart tumble—just a tiny little fall?

  “Maybe I should apologize now so we can make a fresh start. I haven’t felt like this since…” He didn’t finish his sentence. His free hand touched on her hair, soft against the side of her face, and the past came to life. She was sixteen again—whole of heart and wishing for the sweetness of his kiss.

  His eyes darkened tenderly. His mouth softened, slanting in. Her breath caught, and she was shocked to feel her lips buzz. She wanted his kiss.

  A kiss that could never be.

  She splayed her palm on his chest, stopping him. His lips hovered over hers, only a breath apart. Her pulse beat wildly in her chest while he squeezed his eyes shut and winced as if with regret.

  “I’m sorry.” He broke away.

  “So am I.” Sorry that they hadn’t kissed, that she was no longer the girl who’d loved him. She didn’t want to be.

  “That came out of nowhere for me, too.” Pain darkened his features. “I didn’t plan it. It just…happened.”

  “You mean it almost happened.”

  “Yes. It’s a good thing it didn’t. What was I thinking?” He grimaced again, stopped and shook his head. “After my marriage ended, that was it for me. I’ve been through so much loss. My heart was too broken. I can’t go there again.”

  He faltered, raw grief showing.

  What had happened to him? Mariah wanted to ask, but he moved in and opened her door.

  “Drive safe. Make sure Jake contacts me about the hoop fest. I’d like to sponsor him, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Sure.” She slipped into her seat, a little dazed and even more confused.

  “Take care, Mariah. Thanks for including me tonight. You have no idea the good it did me.” The door closed, shutting him out and her safely in. The man who walked away, as dark as the shadows, a part of the night, took a piece of her with him.

  * * *

  He fished his keys out of his pocket, unlocked his car door, then the beep beep of a horn snagged his attention. He looked up in time to catch Jake waving behind the window of Mariah’s SUV as it motored by on the street.

  A hard squeeze gripped him. Funny kid.

  Wyatt dropped into his seat, started the engine and hit the overhead light.

  “Well, Sebastian,” he said, cracking open his wallet to look at the picture of a blond, blue-eyed boy. “I’m doing better. I actually had fun tonight.”

  Only silence answered. There had been a time when he would have hauled out his cell and hit number one on speed dial. There had been a long string of dark days when he’d automatically reached for the phone, needing to hear the child’s voice and the funny recap of his school day, even knowing it could never happen again. Now it was a habit finally broken. Wyatt tucked his wallet back into his pocket, put the car in gear and pulled out of the lot.

  The happiness of the evening trailed him, along with the memory of Mariah’s smile. Mariah was a light that kept shining. A brightness that lingered as he navigated back to the hotel he called home, handed his keys to the valet and headed for the penthouse elevator. He wished he had more heart to give her, because he really wanted to see her again.

  Chapter Six

  She’d gotten closer to Wyatt than she’d meant to. He kept creeping into her thoughts as the work week passed. Not even organizing the hoop fest or the demands of getting the paperwork together to close the property deal and start construction seemed to be able to stop it. Every time she remembered that near kiss, her stomach swooped against her will.

  “Mariah?” A voice cut into her thoughts.

  “I’m sorry, Kalinda. Too much on my mind.” She focused on the architect awaiting her answer. It was Friday afternoon and she still couldn’t get enough distance. “I’ll take this to the board. I’m sure they’ll be pleased. I can’t thank you enough. You charged us less than a quarter of any other firm.”

  “Happy to help.” Kalinda rolled up the blueprints and popped them into a canister. “My boss’s mother was killed by his father. It’s important work your shelter does.”

  Kalinda’s words stuck with Mariah as she said her goodbyes and rode down in the elevator. Spring sunshine lit her path as she crossed at the intersection and set off down the busy sidewalk. She had been one of the lucky ones, who’d left before her husband’s self-hatred and lack of self-control had spiraled even lower. The fact was that many abusers became the most dangerous when they lost control—when women left. It was Mariah’s deepest prayer that every woman being hurt and oppressed by the man she loved would reach out for the help she deserved.

  One day soon, she thought, studying the property that would belong to the shelter in just a short time. She imagined the tall building with gleaming windows. Inside there would be comfy rooms, more office space and more classrooms for learning everything from English as a second language to money management. They would expand their youth programs and community outreach, and offer more aftercare support. This would be a place for women to start finding better futures. Just like Nellie’s had helped her to do.

  A sleek black Mercedes pulled up to the curb. One that looked quite familiar, as did the dark-haired man emerging from it, keys and cell phone in hand.

  “Wyatt?” She walked toward him in the glaring spring sunshine. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just thought I’d take one last look at my property.” He circled his car, stepping onto the sidewalk, tucking the phone into his pocket as he approached. “What about you?”

  “Back from the architect’s.” She tucked the canister of drawings under one arm. “Lots to do before we can break ground.”

  “I know all about it.” He stalked closer, looking good. Very good. “I signed the papers this morning. That means this land is almost yours.”

  “I know. I’m on my way to the closing office to sign.”

  “Then this is a big day. When I pulled up, it looked like you were doing a little daydreaming.”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “I know what it’s like to have a dream and build it. It’s what I do for a living. Granted, I usually stand and envision an office building and not something as worthwhile as your shelter, but it’s still a big moment.”

  “It is. Now if I can just get everything in line for the construction phase.”

  “I take it from reading Ella Jean’s emails that you landed a construction grant.”

  “It covers only part of the cost. We’re getting a loan for the other half. It’s already approved. The construction company is planning to start next week, fingers crossed.”

  “That’s great news.”

  “It’s finally real. Thanks to you. I sent you an invitation to our ground-breaking ceremony. It should come in today’s mail.”

  “I’ll kee
p an eye out for it.” He slipped his hands into his pockets, studying her with a look that made her wonder if he was thinking about the last time they were together, and their almost kiss.

  “How’s the building permit coming along?” he asked.

  “Good question. The city is stretched thin in this economy, just like the rest of us.”

  “Maybe I can help. Don’t mean to take over. Just offering a helping hand, if you need one.”

  “Thanks.” The word didn’t come easily to her. “Anything for the shelter.”

  “Right. I’ve been emailing your son all week.” He glanced away, staring at the empty lot. “He asked me about the summer camp. Said it was okay with you if I looked into it for him.”

  “The experience might be good for him. He’s pretty excited about it.” Her throat felt tight with emotions she didn’t want to examine too closely, afraid of what she might find. “He said he saw you at the community center last night. You had your first league practice, but I didn’t see you there.”

  “We were on the other court. I’m still sore from it. I’m more out of shape than I thought, but it’s a good group. I fit in just fine. They’re participating in the hoop fest tomorrow.”

  “Don’t tell me you signed up, too?”

  “Bill at the center squeezed me in at the last minute. You wouldn’t want to sponsor me, would you?”

  She laughed, not knowing why she thought that was funny. “Sign me up, since you’re playing for my favorite cause.”

  “Thanks. At least I won’t be embarrassed. I have one sponsor.”

  “Surely you can come up with at least one more?”

  “Sure, but you’re the first.” His phone buzzed.

  Perfect timing. Something was happening between them. Her feelings were softening for him. That was not what she wanted. Not at all.

  “It’s the closing attorney,” he said. “I need to take this. Want to make sure there’s no last minute problems with the land transfer.”

  “Tell them I’m on my way.”

  “Will do. See you tomorrow bright and early.”

  “I’ll bring my checkbook,” she called over her shoulder. Every step took her farther away, but the sight of the man in his dark suit and tie, phone to his ear, lingered with her. So did the warmth in her heart…just friendship, or was it more?

  She didn’t not know.

  * * *

  Saturday morning sparkled around her. The hoop fest tournament, in full swing, was a spectacle of sights and sounds. Friends and family cheered on their teams, vendors sold wares, and the energy of the matches peppered the air as players charged, feinted and scored. Shouts rang, whistles blew and Mariah watched Jake on the sidelines, talking with his teammates, dressed to play.

  “His match is about to start.” Sunni nudged her. “I’ll take over the booth advertising the shelter. Go cheer for him.”

  “Thanks. Keep an eye out for Bill. He’s short a volunteer and one of us may need to help with the scoring sheets.”

  “I’ve got it. Go on, get out of here.” Sunni’s cheerful reassurance made it easy to step from the booth into the spring sunshine. Mariah couldn’t help searching for Wyatt, knowing his match was coming up…and why did she know? Because she’d looked it up. Hard to explain exactly why she’d done that, or why she now stood on tiptoe to survey the crowd around court 22.

  “All right, we can do this!” Jake’s enthusiasm carried on the wind. He’d looked pale all morning, and he still did. She’d almost kept him home, but his ardent pleas not to let down his teammates, and ultimately, the shelter, had convinced her to let him play. No fever, no coughing, no runny nose. He just seemed off to her, although he appeared to be doing fine as the ref blew his whistle and his team lumbered onto the court.

  “I’m just in time,” a familiar baritone rumbled behind her. Wyatt. “I couldn’t miss his match.”

  “What about yours?” Warmth filled her at seeing him again. “Doesn’t it start soon?”

  “My teammates will get me when it’s time. I’m warmed up and ready to go.”

  “Clearly.” Hard not to notice his toned perfection, his muscles showcased nicely in his basketball tank and shorts. “You look really happy, Wyatt.”

  “I am, and I haven’t been in a long time.” Dimples framed his stand-out smile as he turned to watch Jake dodge, dribble, feint and charge toward the basket.

  “The building permit was approved at the last second yesterday afternoon.” She cheered when Jake scored. “Did you have anything to do with it?”

  “I said I’d help, so I made a few calls. I have a contact who works for the city. Remember Dave Mead, from high school?”

  “Wasn’t he your best buddy back in the day?”

  “And he remembers you. Turns out Mary’s Place helped his cousin when she was in need, so when he heard what was going on he managed to pull a few strings.”

  “Wyatt, that was really great of you, coming through like that for me. I mean, for the shelter.” On the court, Jake’s team played defense. Was it her imagination, or was he even paler? “Looks like we can break ground on schedule, after all. Thank you.”

  “No problem. See, I can come in handy.”

  “So it seems. I’m grateful to Dave, too.”

  “I’ll tell him tomorrow. I talked him into a game of golf. My skills are rusty and he hasn’t played since high school, but it’ll be fun to catch up.”

  “Good for you. You’re building a new life here.”

  “Thanks to old friends.”

  They shared a smile. Old friends. Was that all she felt? Or was it something new? A groan rose from the crowd and she turned too late to see what had happened. Jake grimaced, his team members gave him sympathetic looks and he bent over for a moment, hands on his knees, breathing hard. Unusually winded. A niggle of concern bolted through her, but then he was up and running.

  “Wyatt, someone is waving at you.”

  “Right. My new friends. Guess I’ll miss Jake’s match.”

  “I’ll tell him you stopped by. Good luck with your—“

  A roar of concern rose from the crowd. Mariah blinked, trying to focus, realizing the game had stalled. No dribbling ball, no thunder of running players…

  Wyatt was already moving. “Jake? Jake, are you okay?”

  Alarm shot through her. Time slowed in terrifying increments. She saw Jake clutching his chest, dropping to the pavement, Wyatt sprinting toward him. Terror jackknifed through her as she launched herself across the court.

  “Medic!” the ref shouted, but all she could see was the panic on Jake’s face, the fear in his eyes, the rapid-fire gasps as he sucked in air. She went down on her knees beside him.

  “Jake! Jake! Are you okay, baby?” She brushed the hair out of his eyes, wild with concern.

  He shook his head, sucking in short bursts of air, faster and faster, rasping in and out, in and out in a frightening rhythm. Sweat dotted his skin. Was it an asthma attack? He’d never had that problem before. She was helpless to stop it, helpless to help him. Her poor boy. Where were the paramedics?

  “Try to relax, sweetheart.” She tried to do the same. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “Wow, your pulse is really racing.” Wyatt released Jake’s wrist, which he’d been cradling. “That’s got to feel weird.”

  Unable to speak, the boy nodded.

  “Mariah, let’s get him lying down flat. Okay, Jake?”

  Together they helped him lie back. Despite the fear rattling her—a mother’s worst nightmare—she was grateful for Wyatt’s strength and caring. He was utterly calm. His face shone with sincerity, unguarded and real. As was the way Jake gazed up at him, as if Wyatt was a lifeline.

  “Move aside,” a voice barked behind her, a medic shoving forward with his equipment. “What’s his name?”

  “J-Jake.” She stumbled out of the way. A firm grip hooked her elbow, repositioning her so she could stroke Jake’s hair and still be clear of the men working on him. Wyatt
, standing behind her, towered over her, and for one moment he was her lifeline, too. His steady gaze calmed her as the medics huddled over her son.

  “It’s gonna be okay.” He spoke with certainty. “Nothing to worry about, right, Jake?”

  “Yeah—I’m—gonna—be—fine,” the boy insisted.

  “You bet. You’ve got a tournament to win. I sponsored you, remember?”

  “I can—win this—I just—” The paramedic slipped an oxygen mask over Jake’s face, silencing him, but it was easy for Wyatt to read the plea in the boy’s eyes. And the fear.

  I’m here, he wanted to tell him, but it wasn’t his right. It’s what he would have said to Sebastian. Wyatt wanted to reassure Mariah, too, but she looked as if she no longer needed him. So beautiful and strong, she was trying to mask her fear, murmuring comforting things to her son.

  The memory of Jake’s fluttering, uneven heartbeat made Wyatt think of student athletes who died on the court from sudden cardiac problems, reported now and then on the news. Cold despair took over, a feeling he’d never thought he could experience again. The gut-wrenching fear that someone you cared about was in jeopardy.

  “We’re taking him to the hospital.” A paramedic spoke to Mariah, who saw no one and nothing but her son.

  That was as it should be. Wyatt stayed in the background, watching as the medics checked oxygen and Jake’s heart monitor, readying him for transport.

  Wyatt knew the routine. He’d been through this before. Sebastian had been sick for a while, and remembering that time hurt. It would always hurt.

  But he’d been wrong when he thought his heart couldn’t go there again.

  “Thank you, Wyatt.” Mariah gripped his hand briefly. “I’m so grateful you were here.”

  He wanted to ask if she needed company, but she was already hurrying away, keeping up with the rolling gurney and the medics, who cut a path through the crowd. He watched them go, and they were all he could see.

  Something had happened. She had changed him, made his empty, broken heart come back to life. Mariah and her son were what filled his heart now.