by Jody Holford
He led her over to the well-worn couch. Wyatt and Jimmy let themselves in, shutting the door behind them.
“That’s what you do when someone knocks, Jakey. Are you in trouble? You’re such a good boy. You’re not in trouble are you?”
Jake locked eyes with Wyatt as he settled his grandmother on the couch. “I’ll fix it, Nona.”
Wyatt didn’t want to be moved by the way Jake tucked a blanket around her legs and kissed the woman’s wrinkled cheek, but it loosened some of the anger in his chest. It was such a soft gesture that Wyatt doubted himself for a moment. Was he wrong about Jake hurting Shay? It was the only thing that made sense.
“Can we do this in the other room?” Jake pointed to the kitchen. They followed him into an equally retro room. The counters were cluttered and busy, but the house was clean. Jake sat in one of the vinyl padded chairs and scrubbed his hands across his face. Before Wyatt could say anything, Jake straightened his shoulders and pasted on a familiar sneer.
“What do you want?”
Jimmy let Wyatt take the lead, leaning against the arch between the kitchen and living room.
Wyatt pulled a chair away from the table and turned it around, sitting on it so he was basically eye level.
“We want you to tell us when you stopped by the building last.”
Jake looked down at the table. “Why would I do that? That place is a hole. You told me to leave so I did. What’s the matter, you miss me?”
So much for burying his anger. Yes, this punk would hurt a woman to get what he needed. The fact that it was Shay who’d been hurt made Wyatt want to smash Jake’s face into the table to speed this along. Instead, he worked not to respond to the guy’s phony bravado. Sweat was pooling along his hairline, and his right leg was tapping up and down in a frantic rhythm.
“You might want to lose the attitude. I played nice last time, but we could have had you on breaking and entering, tampering with mailboxes—that one has a hefty fine and some jail time—and possession of narcotics.”
Jake’s nostrils flared. “You can’t prove anything.”
Wyatt sighed. “Wonder who’s going to take care of Nona when we charge you for assault and battery.”
A strange sound came from Jake…something like a strangled cry, but Wyatt didn’t relent. “Who took care of her while you lived at the building?”
“I did. I just didn’t live here. You’re full of shit. You don’t have anything on me or you’d be arresting me.”
Wyatt wanted to slam his hand on the table, but he curled it into a fist instead. Jimmy spoke up. “You assaulted someone at your former address. We have a witness who can ID you.”
Wyatt held still, not wanting to call attention to his partner’s bluff.
Jake’s eyes locked on Jimmy’s. They couldn’t be that far apart in age, but it was a stark example of the two paths a man could take in his life. Jimmy straightened away from the wall and stepped closer. Jake had to crane his neck back.
His lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. Is she okay?”
Wyatt hadn’t expected the question—or the regret in Jake’s tone. It momentarily silenced him. Jimmy spoke in an affable tone. “She’s recovering. We have you on trespassing and assault. Anything you want to tell us to help yourself out?”
Wyatt smirked at Jimmy. Well done. He nodded his approval as Jake gripped his hair and let out a frustrated growl. “I have to find it, or I’m dead. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I’m sorry. I panicked. I was on my way out and all of a sudden she was there. I freaked. She was turning around, and I thought she’d see me. Shit. Shit. If I don’t have something for Ice by Saturday, I’m dead. If they find me before that, my grandmother is dead, too.”
“Start talking. Who the hell is Ice? And what was in the box you were willing to break several laws for?”
Jimmy pulled out a pen and paper from his shirt pocket and started writing as Jake spilled his guts and his tears right there in the retro kitchen.
Chapter Twelve
Shay took a deep breath and raised her hand to knock, then lowered it. In her other hand, she held a covered plate of double chocolate chunk cookies. Was it weird to just show up with food? She’d baked them to distract herself from obsessing over the sexy detective who had spent the night in her bed—and tried absolutely nothing. Deciding that it was up to her to keep building on her momentum, she’d called Brady and asked what he thought of her dropping by Gabby and Owen’s place to meet them. He’d offered to do a quick introduction after he was home from work, but Shay said she could handle it. She wasn’t ready to see him just yet.
Before she had a chance to knock, the door swung open. Shay screeched and nearly dropped the cookies. The woman in front of her also let out a small cry and backed up. In the next second, a tall, dark-haired man, with black framed glasses came forward.
“Gabby? What is it?”
“I’m so sorry,” Shay blurted, her voice almost shrill.
Gabby laughed and dropped her head to the man’s chest, then looked up and pointed at Shay. All of his attention had been on Gabby.
“Pretty sure this is our new neighbor,” Gabby said, still chuckling. She put a hand to her heart and took a deep breath.
“I am so sorry. I was just about to knock. I’m Shay.”
Owen wrapped one arm around Gabby’s shoulder and reached out a hand. “No worries. Nice to meet you, Shay. I’m Owen. Gabriella was just going down to your place to say hi.”
“Great minds, right?” Gabby said, stepping back and gesturing for Shay to come in.
Shay walked in, slipped off her shoes at the entrance, and tried to breathe around her erratic pulse. She passed the plate of cookies to Gabby, who was beautiful in a unique way…almost gypsy-like with her dark, dancing eyes and long, wavy brown hair. Owen towered over her and was equally attractive, though in a more severe way. With enviable cheekbones and a defined jaw, his eyes were warm and inviting.
“Thank you. We should be bringing you something. I was going to pop in to say hello,” Gabby said, accepting the cookies. She peeled the plastic back and both she and Owen took one. Gabby took a huge bite and Owen laughed, smiling at her with affection.
“You found her weakness,” Owen said.
“Cookies?”
With a teasing smile, he poked Gabby in the arm playfully. “Food.”
The tension unwound in Shay’s chest like a knot coming loose. Now she saw why Brady, and even Wyatt, talked with fondness about these two.
“Come in, please,” Gabby said, finishing off her cookie.
She followed them down a short hallway to an open concept living room and kitchen. The wall of windows in the far corner showed a breathtaking view. Without thinking, Shay walked to the window.
“Wow. This is stunning.”
“It’s pretty great,” Gabby agreed.
It was then Shay noticed the easel and long, narrow side table littered with paints and brushes and rags.
There was nothing on the canvas, but when she turned, she saw a gorgeous print hanging over the fireplace. A man and a woman dancing in the starlight. Everything around them was dark except for the glow of the stars above them and a faint shimmering edge of gold in the places their bodies touched. Like they literally lit each other up.
Shay pointed. “Did you paint that?”
Gabby glanced down, and Owen put a hand on her back. “Yes.”
“Baby, you’re going to have to keep your head up when you do the show,” Owen said. He turned to Shay. “She’s still in the humble stage, but yes, she painted that and has a collection of others that are equally as beautiful.”
“He’s my biggest fan,” Gabby said.
Shay’s heart pinched, making her chest feel tight—like it was too crowded in there. “I can see why. Honestly, it’s incredible. I love it.”
“Thank you. Come sit down.”
Shay followed them into the living room. The decor was a blend of modern and eclectic—a wide seated, gray cou
ch and matching chair took up most of the space, and funky accent pieces adorned the side tables and mantel. She admired the oddly shaped, deep burgundy vase that took up the center of the wood-planked coffee table.
Gabby munched on another cookie as she curled into Owen’s side on the couch. Shay sat on the chair and tried to relax. But this was a unique situation since she was looking for a friend and a job.
Owen leaned forward and snagged a cookie. “Brady and Wyatt said you’re an event planner?”
“I am. Or, I’m trying to be. I’ve organized a book signing event at the Chambers Library this Saturday, and I’m working on a last-minute baby shower for Sunday. I’ve got a few other things booked, and I’m meeting with a woman from Southside College to talk about planning some recruitment activities. How about you?”
“I’m a systems support technician. I work from home, which is pretty fantastic.”
“I still have a day job, though one day I hope to be able to just focus on my art,” Gabby said.
Shay watched Owen squeeze Gabby’s leg. “It’ll happen, Gabs.”
God. The sweetness almost pulsed between them, and Shay realized she wanted that…badly. But she’d started falling for a man who stopped himself from giving too much of it. Though he was trying. For her. Neither of them could say where it would lead, but it had hardly started yet and already felt more real than anything she’d experienced before. Perhaps because she knew Wyatt wouldn’t try with just anyone. She smiled, remembering the feel of his arms around her. She was special to him.
And if it didn’t work out, she wouldn’t fall apart. She’d survive. She had so far. One broken heart hadn’t stopped her from moving forward. Though she had a feeling that having Wyatt break her heart would leave a more permanent mark.
“I work at a college not too far from here as an administrative secretary. Do you know the area well?” Gabby asked.
“I’m learning. I love the city so far, though I haven’t been out much.” Shay pushed farther back onto the chair, and because it was easier to do than she expected, she relaxed into the cozy cushions.
“We heard you were hurt,” Owen said.
“What a terrible thing to happen. Honestly, this building has been nothing but good the whole time I’ve lived here, but since just before Christmas, things have gone sideways. I thought we were done with all of that,” Gabby said. She pulled her feet up and crossed her legs on the couch, comfortable in her space, in Owen’s arms, and in her own skin.
“It was a surprise, for sure. I’m feeling okay, but I’ve been trying not to look at my computer screen for too long so I don’t get a headache. It’s only been a couple of days. Brady was fantastic, and Wyatt has been so supportive and sweet.”
Owen began to cough and put a hand flat on his chest. Gabby smirked at him, but Shay leaned forward. “Are you okay?”
“He’s fine. Aren’t you, babe?”
Owen nodded, coughing less and more just clearing his throat. Gabby turned to Shay with a full-face smile. Even her eyes were laughing.
“He choked on you saying Wyatt was sweet. He doesn’t show that side a whole lot.”
“I’m going to get a drink,” Owen said.
Shay watched him go, and Gabby moved to the end of the couch so they were closer. She leaned in like they were long-time friends. “Wyatt’s a tough guy. We actually thought he was mob connected.”
Shay laughed and tried to picture that. Sure, he was aloof, but he had his reasons. She’d like to know more of them sometime soon, but he was a protector through and through. He had a conviction for justice and a dedication to his job that was admirable.
Gabby broke into Shay’s thoughts. “I see some of what you see, though obviously only a fraction of it. Be honest…is he a wickedly good kisser? Those tough-guy silent types always are.”
“I choked Gabby. I didn’t go deaf,” Owen called from the kitchen.
Shay’s skin heated, and she looked back and forth between Gabby on the couch and Owen in the far corner of the room, drinking a glass of water. He raised it, like a salute. “I’m going to do some work. Nice to meet you, Shay. See you soon.”
“Oh, bye.”
Gabby pushed to the edge of her seat. “You don’t have to tell me. Sorry. I’m just really excited that he’s met someone who makes him smile. He doesn’t do a lot of that. It’s like he resists it, you know?”
She did know. But how did Gabby? If Wyatt was as closed off as everyone said, how had Gabby gotten through? Had they dated? He’d said no. Actually, he’d said Gabby wasn’t his girlfriend.
“Did you two date?”
Now Gabby choked, but she covered it quickly with a laugh. “God, no. I’ve been in love with Owen forever. Recently, he clued into that fact, but Wyatt has never been on my radar. But I don’t really have a family and something about him makes me think he’d be a good big brother.”
“He is. I met his sister. It’s actually her friend I’m organizing the baby shower for,” Shay said.
Gabby’s eyes widened. “You’ve met his family?”
Shay wasn’t feeling as cozy anymore and sat forward on the chair. She didn’t want to misrepresent what she and Wyatt had, because they hadn’t even been on a date yet. “No. Not really. I mean, we were in the same place at the same time, and I ran into him while he was with Abigail. His sister.” No need to mention she’d been doing a lousy job of following him through the store.
Gabby leaned back like she was absorbing this information. Then she leaned forward and grabbed another cookie, offering the plate to Shay, who declined.
“Has he invited you to my show yet? It’s next Saturday. I’m debuting with a few other artists in a small showing at the Klein Gallery.”
Shay’s stomach cramped. No. He hadn’t. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life assuming people were keeping information from her just because most of the people who mattered to her had a habit of doing just that.
“Uh, no. That sounds fun.”
“Well, I’d love for you to come, so I hope you can. And it would be a great way to network. Speaking of which, now that Owen’s out of the room, I want to talk about planning an engagement party. I want to make it special, but affordable. Are you up for talking about some ideas?”
Chatting with Gabby was making Shay’s head spin more than when she’d been hit. It was an amusing, entertaining kind of spin, but overwhelming nonetheless. Taking a deep breath, grateful they were moving into safer conversation territory, she nodded and pulled a pad of paper out of her purse, which she’d set on the floor beside her.
“Yes. Definitely. Why don’t you give me some ideas about what you’d like and I’ll look into a few things.”
When Shay crawled into bed that night, she told herself that she didn’t need Wyatt to text her back or call. She’d sent him a text when she got home saying she was having a good day and hoped he was. He’d read it. But hadn’t responded. She understood that he had a job and was dedicated to it. But surely, in the days of Siri and hands-free phone calls, he could follow through when he said he’d do something. If he’d thought of her, like she thought of him, he would have. Perhaps that was what worried her most of all about the idea of falling for Wyatt Daniels—that once again, she was seeing something that wasn’t there and wanting more than she could have. She didn’t mind taking a chance, but she didn’t want to just toss her heart on the floor to be mangled.
She hadn’t come to Boston for a relationship, but she wanted one. One that mattered and was real.
It was part of her make-up—wanting that significant other who had her back and cared in equal measure. She wanted to build something with someone, much like she was with her business—something that would last and have a solid foundation. Had that been what she was searching for this whole time? Neither she nor Wyatt needed the weight of all of that pressing in on them before they even knew each other. Maybe, for once, she could just live in the moment. Be okay with not knowing.
>
She checked her phone once again, made a few notes in her calendar, and then pulled the cord for her lamp. In the darkness, she rolled on her side and caught a hint of Wyatt’s scent on her pillow. She hugged it close and hoped that even though he hadn’t texted, he was somewhere feeling the same. Like maybe they had a shot at something good. If they could both trust each other—and themselves—enough to let it happen.
Chapter Thirteen
Wyatt texted Shay again. He read through the files on his desk and tried to see what was in front of him, but he was just re-reading the same sentence. He should have texted her back yesterday. Why hadn’t he? He’d thought to a dozen times, but held back. Self-preservation. The amount of time she crowded his thoughts made his stomach churn, and he’d tried to tell himself, show himself, that he wasn’t getting attached. Hell, he hadn’t even slept with her yet. He hadn’t taken her out or given her any reason to put up with his garbage, either.
He’d almost stopped by this morning on his way into work, but again, told himself not to. He was an idiot, and he was going to lose her before he even had a chance to really know her. Or let her know him and find out if she wanted him anyway. He tried calling her and got no answer.
Jimmy walked by his desk, a cup of coffee in his hand. “You okay, boss?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. I need to head out for a bit. I’ll check in later.”
He picked up his jacket and shrugged it on, grabbed his car keys out of the pocket, and said good-bye. In his car, he debated. Call her again? Text her? Obsess over her in his car like a teenager with a huge crush? Dialing Abigail’s number, he hit the speaker button on his steering wheel as he pulled into traffic.
“Hey. You’re calling me. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I call you,” he said.
Her laughter came through in surround sound. “Not too often. But I’m glad to hear from you. Shay emailed me this morning, and her plans for the shower are fantastic. Thanks for recommending her. My boss is attending so I’m hoping to introduce them. Maybe she’ll score some more work from it.”
