Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“Betsy loved her some Shania.” I try my pot roast too. “Wow, Wyatt, that’s delicious.”
“You think so?”
“Hell yes. Thank you.”
Wyatt grins. “But yeah, how many dance parties did we have listening to that album? The one with ‘Man, I Feel Like a Woman!’ on it?”
My heart swells. He’s doing it. Wyatt really is opening up.
That’s a big, big deal.
“Too many to count,” I say with a smile.
He blinks, looking away as he eats his salad. “Mom was the best.”
“You take after her. Cash is one hundred percent your dad—”
“Kinda scary when you think about how alike they are.”
“No kidding. But you’re Betsy through and through.” I scoop up some mashed potatoes on my fork and hold it up. “Case in point: these are her mashed potatoes, aren’t they? Made with parsnips?”
He’s blinking again, not meeting my eyes. “Only way to make ’em.”
I slide the fork into my mouth. The potatoes are delicious, just the slightest bit sweet from the parsnips. “You’re so right. That is so damn right, Wyatt, it’s not even funny.”
“They’re good?”
“Best I’ve ever had. Just as good as your mom’s.” I smile. “She’d be so proud of you, Wy.”
I watch his Adam’s apple bob on a swallow. My eyes fill when I see his expression flicker. Shit, I took it too far, didn’t I?
He clears his throat. “Thank you for saying that.”
A beat of silence. I don’t rush to fill it. The moment suddenly feels tender in every sense of the word. It’s tender, as in it’s sweet, but it also feels like I’m pressing on a sore spot.
Part of me wants to backtrack, to say, Hey, it’s all right if you don’t want to talk about this. But he already knows that. Wyatt can change the subject at any time.
I wait for him to do exactly that. Instead, he takes the stem of his wineglass in his hand and rolls it between his fingers.
He sniffles. “I miss her, you know?”
I dab at my eyes with my napkin. “I know.”
“Sometimes—” He lets out a breath. “Sometimes, it hurts too bad just to think about how much I miss her. How much I’ve missed out on, losing her when I did. I can’t—it’s like I can’t breathe when I think about all the years that have passed that she hasn’t been around for. The things she wasn’t able to witness, you know?”
This is an important moment. There’s a breakthrough happening, and my heart is hammering, and I’m overwhelmed by the love and the respect I have for Wyatt.
I don’t think.
I just get up, set my napkin on the table, and walk around to him. I loop my arms around his neck and settle myself in his lap. Just like I did the night we played poker together.
Seems like forever ago.
Seems like yesterday.
Wyatt immediately pulls me against him, holding me close, and I rest my forehead against his so that our noses touch too. I take a deep inhale, then slowly let it out.
“Let me remind you how breathing is done then,” I whisper. “Hear the air go in and out? Now you do the same.”
I put my hand on his chest. Feel it barrel out on his inhale. Feel it fall on his shaky exhale that courses over my face in a warm rush.
We sit like that for one breath, then another, and another.
“This is not how I wanted dinner to go,” Wyatt says with a half-hearted scoff. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I lift my head and look him in the eye. “I’m not going anywhere, Wy.”
His eyes are a little frantic as they search mine. “You’re not leaving right now.” The words come out as a statement, but I know they’re a question.
“I’m not leaving.”
He swallows. “Why not?”
“Because you still owe me mind-blowing sex.”
Wyatt laughs, the sound real and loud and relieved, and something breaks loose in my chest.
I love how I can make this man laugh.
I love you, Wy, and I’m gonna stay.
“That, I can do.” He presses a kiss to my forehead.
“Your feelings don’t scare me. You know what does? You keeping everything bottled up in here.” I tap my finger on his breastbone. “So talk to me. I’m listening.”
CHAPTER 23
Wyatt
BIG FEELINGS
I talk.
It comes pouring out of me in a steady stream—the stories, the memories, the regrets. The things I wish Mom could’ve seen—Duke and Ryder graduating high school, Ella being born, Cash falling in love with Mollie—and the things I’m glad she didn’t, like our ranch falling into disrepair.
Sally listens, her body tucked against mine. Every so often, she’ll reach for her wine and we’ll each take a sip. But otherwise, she’s quiet. Not in an absent or bored way—there’s warmth in her silence, a sense of understanding. I can’t really describe it. All I know is, I feel heard. Seen.
Safe.
There’s still part of me that expects her to bolt at any minute. Because that’s immediately where my brain goes—whenever you get close to someone, you end up hurt.