Текст книги "Then Came You"

Автор книги: Jill Shalvis

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Or that . . .

His arms tightened on her, and she felt a surge of hope, but before that emotion could settle, he looked at the three boxes along the wall, boxes she’d packed with her stuff. “I guess it is a good-bye of sorts,” he said, and she stopped breathing.

Just stopped.

“You’ll come visit,” he said. “Your sister’s here.”

So are you, she thought.

“And I get to L.A. occasionally,” he said. “And there’s always vet conferences.”

Ouch. Yeah, this was good-bye.

His back to her now, he pulled on his clothes. “I need to get to Lilah’s and see if she needs help treating the dogs.”

She let out the breath she’d been holding and sat up, pulling the sheet to her chin. Stupid to feel modest now, but she’d never felt more naked in her life.

Don’t look back, she told herself. She wouldn’t begrudge falling for him, or this place, any of it because she’d found herself here—not the person she’d thought she was supposed to be, but the woman she really was. And as it turned out, she was a lot more like her dad than she could have imagined.

And that was okay, too, because maybe, just maybe, she’d also learned to do what he’d always wanted for her– how to love without question, how to give her whole heart, no regrets.

But damn. Damn, it sucked.

Wyatt walked to her bedroom door, put his hand on the handle, and let out a long breath before facing her. “I really am happy for you,” he said with his usual blunt honesty. “Everyone should get what they want out of life, but especially you, Emily. You deserve that.”

He was gone before she found her voice. “You, too,” she whispered.

Twenty-nine

Wyatt strode into Sunshine Wellness Center from the back. AJ’s office was empty so he moved past the physical therapy rooms to the gym.

AJ was flat on his back on a bench, pressing weights. When Wyatt kicked his foot, he jerked. The weights clunked when he racked them, and there was lots of swearing as he sat up and eyed Wyatt. “Men have died for less,” he said, and then frowned. “Damn, a dog die on you or something?”

“No.”

“A horse?” AJ asked.

“No. Jesus,” Wyatt said, and took the weight bench next to AJ.

“Something or someone died. It’s all over your face.”

“Nothing died. No one died.” Wyatt shook his head and reached for the bar. “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit.” AJ stood and held Wyatt’s bar down so that he couldn’t lift. “You’re not bench-pressing when you look like shit.” He paused. “This about your sister?”

Wyatt’s eyes narrowed up at his oldest friend. “What about her?”

AJ chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, as if carefully considering his next words. “I’m thirsty. You thirsty?”

“No.”

“Good. Me too. Let’s go.” He hauled Wyatt up and shoved him out the door ahead of him. They walked down the street to the only bar in town.

“Two shots,” AJ said to the bartender. “Whiskey.” He slid onto a stool and glanced at Wyatt’s face. “Actually, make that four shots. And keep ’em coming.” He waited until the drinks arrived, lifted his, and knocked it against Wyatt’s.

They tossed their drinks back.

“So,” AJ said. “You didn’t kill any puppies today.”

“No.”

“And it’s not about your sister.”

Wyatt gave him a long look. “Why do you keep asking about my sister?”

“No reason.” AJ reached for his second shot and waited until Wyatt did the same.

The shot went down a little smoother than the first, and Wyatt gestured for another.

The bartender brought four more shots.

“She’s leaving,” Wyatt said, grabbing one.

“Darcy?”

“No.” Wyatt clicked his glass to AJ’s and drank. “Emily,” he said, letting out a long breath. Finally. Finally he was feeling comfortably numb.

AJ blinked. “The pretty intern?”

Wyatt blew out a breath and picked up his fourth shot, gesturing to the bartender for still more. He wasn’t sure how many it was going to take, but he figured he’d know when he got there.

“Man, I didn’t realize,” AJ said, matching him shot for shot. “Just ask her to stay, why don’t you? Chicks dig that.”

“No,” Wyatt said, and shook his head. His befuddled head. “It’s her life, and this is what she wants. I’m happy for her.”

“Fuck that. Tell her to stay.”

Wyatt laughed mirthlessly. “Is that what you do, you tell your women what to do?”

“Yes.”

Wyatt pointed at him. “That’s why you have no woman.”

AJ frowned. “Hey. Well, okay . . .” He was speaking a little slowly, like his tongue wasn’t working. “Maybe that’s true right now,” AJ said, “but this isn’t about me. This is about you and your whole fucked-up family.”

“We’re not fucked up.”

“So fucked up,” AJ said, weaving.

Or maybe that was Wyatt.

“Growing up,” AJ said, “you never had a choice or a say, like . . . ever, and now you won’t tell a woman you love her and want her to stay because of it.”

“Bullshit.”

AJ raised a brow. “Which part?”

Wyatt wasn’t exactly sure. He was fuzzy. Very fuzzy. “I won’t take away her choices. She’s gotta want to stay on her own. And she doesn’t.”

“Cuz you didn’t give her any choices,” AJ said. “That’s as stupid as giving her too many.”

Somehow, in some way, that actually made some sort of twisted sense. Wyatt stared at the empty shot glasses lined up in front of him. “I should fix that.”

“Yeah.” AJ pulled a pen from behind the bar and shoved it and a napkin at Wyatt. “Write it down. In a letter. It’ll sound less bossy.”

Way in the back of Wyatt’s pickled brain he was well aware that he should actually speak to Emily and not write her a silly note, but he had to admit, it held some appeal. For one thing, it was hard to fuck up a note. He took the pen. Stared at the napkin. “Dear Emily,” he wrote.

“Good start,” AJ said, reading over his shoulder. “Keep going.”

Wyatt bent to the task. It took about ten napkins, and some unsolicited help from AJ, and the guy on the other side of AJ, and the bartender. And then suddenly Wyatt found himself staring at Darcy. “Hey,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Got a call that my shit-faced brother might need a ride home,” she said.

The bartender shrugged unapologetically.

Darcy glared at AJ. “I blame you.”

AJ, who’d been smiling and jovial all night, a happy drunk, was suddenly as somber as Wyatt had ever seen him as he stared at Darcy.

“This isn’t my fault,” he said.

“It’s always your fault.” Darcy slipped her arm in Wyatt’s. “He’s never like this.”

“Maybe it’s you,” AJ said.

Darcy’s mouth went grim. “No one can disappoint quite like you, AJ.”

“It’s a talent,” he agreed.

Darcy turned to drag Wyatt out, and then paused. She met AJ’s caustic gaze. “Come on, then. I’ll drive your sorry ass home, too.”

“Gee, as appealing as that offer is, I think I’ll pass.” Darcy looked at the bartender, who nodded. He’d make sure AJ got a cab.

“Turn left here,” Wyatt said halfway home.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Darcy turned left. Wyatt gave her a few more directions to the route he had memorized. In three more minutes they were outside of Emily’s place.

“Thought you’d already said good-bye,” Darcy said, engine still running as they both looked out the windshield at Emily’s car, clearly loaded and ready to go first thing in the morning.

Wyatt didn’t answer. He got out of the car and went to the driver’s side of Emily’s car. Not locked.

She’d become used to Sunshine, he thought with a smile. Whether she knew it or not . . . He set his note against the gearshift.

And then he walked away. No regrets, he told himself.

But for the first time in his life, it wasn’t true.

Emily gave Sammy one last tin full of strawberries, feeling her throat tighten when he dove right in. Then she tried to hug Q-Tip good-bye, and got bit for her efforts.

Woodrow was in the car. She wasn’t leaving him behind, she couldn’t. She kissed Sara and Rayna good-bye. “I still can’t believe you’re going to stay,” Emily said.

Sara shrugged. “Sunshine grew on me.” She paused. “This is really stupid. You know that, right?”

“Says the woman who invented stubborn,” Rayna murmured beneath her breath.

Emily let out a short laugh. She and Sara had argued about this until they were blue in the face.

It was done. She’d agreed to go.

Sara rolled her eyes but wrapped an arm around Rayna’s neck. “Straight people. They don’t know how to communicate.”

“Yeah,” Rayna said softly, kissing Sara’s jaw. “Because us lesbians do it so much better.”

Sara sighed and turned to her sister. “Be happy, Emily,” she said fiercely.

“I will.” But she didn’t feel happy. She felt anxious, like she was leaving something behind.

You are.

Your heart.

“I mean it,” Sara said. “Promise me you’ll be happy. You’ll put it on your fucking calendar and do it.”

She would try to do the happy thing, but that hadn’t worked out so well for her last time, had it?

One week later, Emily left work at the Beverly Hills clinic. She walked out with Woodrow and the other intern, the one who’d spent three whole days in Sunshine before coming back.

Turned out she had a vicious allergy to horses.

Emily had talked in great length with Dell about it. He’d told her to stay in Los Angeles, that they’d brought Olivia back from her maternity leave for now, that they’d work it out.

He’d told her all of this before she could say a word.

Not that she knew exactly which word she would say. She had a bunch of them. Such as . . . How was Wyatt? Did he miss her?

She missed him like she’d miss a damn limb.

I’m so sorry, she’d nearly said. Please take me back . . .

But Dell had been happy for her that she was getting what she’d wanted, and . . . he was in a hurry. When he’d disconnected, she’d stared at her phone forever.

Now she swallowed the lump in her throat, the one that felt a whole lot like homesickness. She got into her car and drove. Not to her place—which was a guesthouse in the hills, a lovely little private cottage. Instead she drove herself and Woodrow into the valley, to her dad’s house.

When she let them both in, Woodrow went directly to the kitchen, to the bowl of cat food he’d already discovered was always there just begging to be poached.

Emily plopped down on the couch next to her dad. He was reading Animal Wellness and eating from a bag of baby carrots. He had a blind parakeet on one shoulder, a three-legged cat on his lap, and two geriatric dogs at his feet, all of them clueless to the real world.

“How was work?” he asked.

“Fine. You look like Dr. Doolittle.”

He looked up and narrowed his eyes on her. “Not fine.”

And not so clueless . . .

“How long is it going to take you to realize that L.A. isn’t going to work out for you?” he asked, going back to his magazine.

“Tired of me already?”

“Never.”

Woodrow came into the living room still licking his chops and hopped up onto her dad’s legs, upsetting the balance.

The parakeet squawked. The cat hissed.

And Emily would’ve sworn Woodrow smiled at the chaos. She knew he had to take his jollies where he could get them, as he wasn’t allowed free reins at work the way he’d been at Belle Haven.

And no one had made him a badge or given him a hat.

Her dad tossed his magazine aside and hugged Woodrow. “Does he like carrots?”

“He likes everything but green veggies.”

“Smart dog.” He fed Woodrow a carrot, then looked at Emily. “Talk to me.”

She sighed and leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Truth?”

“Yeah, let’s start with that.”

“It’s not that L.A. isn’t going to work out,” she said. “It’s more that I don’t want this life anymore.” She let that sink in. “So what’s wrong with me?”

“You want a list?” he asked.

She blew out a breath. “I’ve been here a week. I get a great stipend and a cute guesthouse to live in. It’s a great practice. I’ve been given the keys to the kingdom, Dad. It’s ‘the life’ on my plan. I go to work and if there’s no smog, I can see all of the city of Los Angeles, and yet all I can think about are the mountains.”

“I’m more of a desert man myself,” he said conversationally.

“Dad. I’m serious.”

“Me too.”

She turned her head and looked at him. “Two months ago this was all I ever wanted. It’s everything . . .” She shook her head. “But it’s not.”

He arched a brow. “Quite an admission, coming from you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Life isn’t in the planning, baby. Life’s in the living.”

She stared at him. “I can’t believe you can say that to me with a straight face. With even a little bit of planning, you could’ve had everything you ever wanted. You have a degree from Tufts, for God’s sake! You could’ve worked with the best of the best but you’re here because . . . well, I don’t know why exactly.”

“Don’t you?”

“No! And then when you didn’t put any money away and Mom got sick, you were wiped out with her medical bills and couldn’t go anywhere.”

He looked around. “I like this place.”

“But Mom could’ve been the one living in the Malibu Hills—”

“And she still would’ve died,” he pointed out gently.

“Yes, but it could’ve been easier,” Emily said, throat thick, remembering those lean, awful years.

“Honey.” Her dad put his hand on hers. “You take great care of me. That’s what you do, you take care of things. People. Animals. Whatever you can. I get that. You make a plan and you go for it, blinders on.”

“You’re missing my point, Dad.”

“No, you’re missing my point. I am living my dream. I’ve got two wonderful daughters, and I’m doing the work I love, and I married the love of my life. We had a great run.”

She stared at him.

He squeezed her hand. “Do you want to know why I loved Sunshine for you? Because it wasn’t on your plan. It wasn’t even on your radar. And every time I talked to you, you sounded alive.”

She sighed. “L.A. will work out, too. Even if I did treat a purple poodle today.”

“Honey,” he said in an amused tone, but there was something else there, something behind the laughter.

She was afraid it was a little bit of horror about the purple poodle, and also the knowledge that they both knew her life wasn’t exactly going as planned, L.A. or not.

“Emily, I’m happy with my choices. Can you say the same?”

She opened her mouth, and then closed it.

“If your mom taught you one thing,” he said. “It’s to follow your heart. Always. No regrets. Yes?”

Yes. But she also knew that following her heart caused pain. So much pain. She’d watched him suffer so much when her mom had been dying, had watched him grieve . . . “I didn’t follow my heart,” she admitted. “I followed my brain.”

And her calendar.

Yeah. So many regrets.

“You can change that,” he said. “It’s not too late. It’s never too late.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

Because Wyatt didn’t care that she was gone. Her heart squeezed hard at that, and she rose to her feet. “I’m going to get us dinner. Thai or Mexican?”

He met her gaze but didn’t answer.

“Dad, if you say follow your heart on this, I’m going to—”

“Italian.”

“Okay, then.” She and Woodrow headed back to the car. The dog jumped in, knocking her purse to the floorboard. She had to crouch down and reach beneath the driver’s seat to gather everything—

She stared down at the napkin lying there next to her purse. It was a small square napkin with the words Sunshine Bar on it, but that wasn’t what had her heart stopping.

No, that honor went to the scrawled penmanship– horrible penmanship—that she immediately recognized as Wyatt’s. The first line read:

Dear Emily,

Don’t fucking go.

That line was crossed out.

Twice.

She stared at the words, let out a choking half laugh, half sob, and covered her mouth with a hand as she read the rest, which wasn’t crossed out.

I want you to have everything you want, even if it’s not what I want. But I can’t let what I want come before what you want.

Ever.

But. . . I want you to stay. Please stay.

Love, Wyatt

She stared at it until the words blurred.

“Honey.” Her father stood in the doorway. “Your cell phone rang and I picked up. Work wants to know if you’ll go in early tomorrow.”

She tore her gaze off the note. “No,” she said. “I can’t.”

“It’s your job,” he said.

She clutched the napkin to her chest. “My job’s in Sunshine.”

Thirty

Still sulking?” Darcy asked Wyatt.

They were in the front yard of the house, Wyatt and his two sisters. It had been a mandatory Saturday clean-the-yard day. He was on a mission to get as much done for them as he could, because he’d hired an architect and gotten a building permit on his land. It was going to happen.

Zoe understood.

Darcy, not so much. She was still pissed off at him. “I don’t sulk,” he told her. “And you’re the one barely talking to me. Even after you lied and said you wanted me to move out.”

“I get why you want your own place,” she said, ignoring this. “We cramp your style.”

“You cramp his style,” Zoe broke in. “I’m not the one who told Emily he wet the bed until he was twelve.”

“Five,” Wyatt said through his teeth. “Only until I was five.”

Darcy was lying flat on her back in the grass that was turning brown for winter, staring up at the sky. He nudged her foot with his.

She nudged back.

That she even could was a miracle, and he crouched at her side. “I’ll be only three minutes down the road,” he said.

“Maybe that’s not far enough.”

There hadn’t been much to smile at this week, but he smiled now. “You’re going to miss me. That’s why you’re being such a shithead.”

“I’m going to miss the lobster ravioli.”

“That’s not what I’m going to miss,” Zoe said.

They both looked at her.

“I miss you being happy,” she said to Wyatt.

His smile faded. When he’d first come back to Sunshine, he’d let the familiarity, the sense of community, fill him. He belonged here, and it felt right. That rightness had only grown as he’d worked at Belle Haven. Settled into friends and a routine. Hell, even living with his sisters had given him a sense of belonging.

And then Emily had come, and she’d been like icing on the cake. The very best part.

They’d fit. With her, everything else in his life had gotten better.

“Sucks,” Darcy said. “Falling in love.”

Yeah. Sucked hard. He hadn’t wanted Emily to leave. He’d been unnerved by the magnitude of what he’d grown to feel for her, but it was nowhere near the magnitude of how he felt about her leaving.

And yet he’d let her go. He’d let her go with nothing but a damn note.

“You should’ve told her you didn’t want her to go,” Darcy said.

“AJ has a big mouth.”

“And you’re a complete dumbass if you really let her go without a word.”

“Don’t.” He shook his head. They’d been over this. In great detail, at high decibel volumes, several nights this week already. “We’ve had this fight. We were dragged around all our lives,” he said. “I’m not going to tell her—”

“Oh my God!” Darcy burst out, and tossed up her hands. “Get over it already!”

“Just call her,” Zoe said.

“Or take the pussy route,” Darcy said. “And write her a stupid note on a stupid napkin.”

Wyatt scrubbed his hands over his face. “Not my finest moment,” he admitted.

Which didn’t matter, since Emily hadn’t responded to the note in any way. Not even when their L.A. intern had left after three days because of horse allergies.

Or, as the staff had rumored, due to Sunshine’s lack of Thai takeout.

“At least call her,” Zoe said.

It was nothing he hadn’t told himself every single moment of every single day all week. “I’m already packed,” he said. “I leave in the morning.”

Zoe blinked, and then grinned.

Darcy whooped and gave him a kick that would have knocked the feet out from beneath him, knocking him to his ass, if the sweetest sight he’d ever witnessed hadn’t suddenly appeared.

Emily’s piece of shit pulling into the driveway.

He was sitting up and straightening his glasses as Emily parked. The car was bug-ridden and covered in dust. She tumbled out, not looking much better. She had a left-side-only sunburn. Her hair looked like she’d stuck her finger in an electrical outlet, and he wasn’t sure what the mysterious stains were on her clothes. Not to mention she smelled like the inside of a 7-Eleven, but she’d never been more beautiful to him. Five cans of Red Bull fell to the sidewalk before she shut the door.

Zoe gasped at the sight of her. “Were you mugged?”

Emily stopped short and looked down at herself. “Despite what it looks like, no.”

Darcy grinned. “It’s called two days of driving.”

“Yeah. And I didn’t have the route mapped so I nearly ended up in Canada by accident when I was practicing what I was going to say instead of concentrating on the drive.”

“A speech!” Darcy said, and kicked Wyatt again. “She has a speech! Let’s hear it!”

Wyatt gave her a long look and gestured with his chin to the house.

“Oh no,” she said. “You’ve been brooding for days, you’re not going to make us leave now.”

“You’ve been brooding?” Emily asked him softly.

“Zoe,” Wyatt said.

“Yeah, on it.” Zoe grabbed Darcy and pulled her up. “We’re going to give them privacy. I realize you don’t know the meaning of the word, but—”

“Fine! Just hang on one second.” Darcy pointed at Emily. “I know he screwed up, but he is screwed up. Don’t you screw him up even worse, got me?”

Jesus. Wyatt opened the front door and shoved both his sisters inside before slamming the door. He turned back to Emily, heart pounding uncomfortably hard. “Hey.”

She came close. “Hey,” she whispered back.

He had to touch—had to—and yanked her into him. “God, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“You should probably know that I’m punch-drunk tired,” she said muffled into his chest, her hands fisted at the back of his shirt. “Which isn’t the same as being plain out drunk, of course.” She shoved free and gave him a long look. “Because if it was, I’d be writing what I want to say to you on a friggin’ bar napkin!”

“Is that why you’re yelling at me?” he asked.

“No, I’m yelling because I’ve had five Red Bulls!” She stopped, drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m yelling because you were careful to keep your feelings to yourself. I had to guess, Wyatt. Hell, I’m still guessing.”

He opened his mouth, but she poked him hard in the chest with a finger. “You showed me with your body, and okay, you showed me with your actions all damn day long, every day, but you were stingy with the words. And I needed the words!”

“I know,” he said. “I—”

“Who leaves a note under the driver’s seat? Tell me that. Who does that?”

“It didn’t start out beneath your seat,” he said. “I set it against the gearshift. It must have slipped to the floor.”

“I repeat,” she said. “Who leaves a note”—she pulled it from her pocket and waved it under his nose—“telling a woman he wants her to stay?”

“Yeah, okay, it was a really stupid idea,” he admitted. “But it made perfect sense to a drunk man.”

“Oh good,” she said, nodding. “You were drunk. I was afraid you’d paid a third grader to write it for you.” She went hands on hips. “Let me make sure I have this straight. When I was here, falling for you, hard, you didn’t say a word. When I was here, thinking that I’d finally found the first something really good in my life—” Her voice broke, which sliced at his heart as she poked him again, in case he hadn’t figured out that it was him that was the something good in her life.

He caught her hand and pulled her in again, holding tight. “Emily,” he said softly.

“Did you know?” she asked. “Did you know how I felt?”

“I knew you cared for me. I knew you wanted to be with me.”

When she tried to pull away, he held her still and met her stormy gaze. “I didn’t want to crowd you. I didn’t want to make a decision for you, or worse, dictate your plans. My hope had been that if you wanted more, you’d say so.”

“I wanted you to ask,” she said softly. “Or better yet, tell me. I wanted to hear you say it.”

“I know,” he said with real regret. “I want to make that up to you. What I don’t want is to lose you.” He tightened his grip on her, and when she did the same, he felt the knot in his chest loosen. He sank a hand into her very tangled hair and tipped her head up to his. “I missed you,” he said against her mouth. “So fucking much.”

“Yeah? So much that you were just sitting on the grass having a little chat with your sisters?” she asked.

“It was more of an intervention, and if you looked inside my truck right now, you’d see my duffle bag. I was coming to you in the morning.”

She went still. “You were?”

“Yeah.” Don’t fuck this up . . . “I had things I should’ve said before you left.”

“Like?”

“Like he was scarred by being dragged all over the world without getting a say or having any choice in the matter,” Darcy yelled from the living room window. “Only he’s a stupid guy and can’t seem to say it out loud.”

Wyatt turned and gave Darcy a look that had her squeaking and slamming the window shut.

Sorry, Zoe mouthed through the glass.

Hell if she was. He turned back to Emily. “Have I ever told you that I like your sister better than either of mine?”

She laughed softly. “I love your family, Wyatt.”

“Because they’re entertainment?”

“Because they love you. And I should’ve figured out for myself what you were doing. Or rather, what you weren’t doing. I should’ve understood that it wasn’t because you didn’t have feelings for me, but that you had so many. I know, because I had just as many for you.”

He let out a breath and tightened his grip on her, burying his face in her hair. He paused, lifted his face and pulled a leaf from her silky strands. Her matted silky strands.

“It got really windy over the pass,” she said defensively and lifted her hand to her hair.

He caught it, then her other hand as well, his own encircling her wrists. His fingers laced with hers and he brought them up to his lips, kissing each palm before looking down into her face. “I was coming to you to say I wanted you back in Sunshine. That I think we have something, something different than I’ve ever had before.” His lips brushed hers. “I want you back because I love you, Emily. So goddamn much.”

“Oh,” she breathed softly, her eyes luminous. “That would’ve been worth the trip.”

He smiled. “I know you have a plan, but if you think it can tolerate some deviance, then I’d be happy if you deviated in my direction.”

She bit her lower lip. “What kind of deviation are we talking about?”

He laughed, and she closed her eyes. “Oh God, how I missed that, Wyatt. Hearing you laugh. I gave up my calendar. Thought I’d try winging it for a while.”

He tightened his grip on her.

“And that,” she breathed, snuggling in. “I missed that, too, feeling your arms around me. And your voice. And the way you make me feel.” She opened her eyes. “I love you, too, Wyatt.” And she graced him with a smile that made her seem as if she was lit from within, and took his very breath away.

“Stay,” he said again. Not asking. Hell, no. He wanted to be perfectly clear on things this time. “Stay, Emily. Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever. Just stay with me.”

Her smile widened and her eyes shone brilliantly with unshed tears. “I wasn’t sure where my home would end up being,” she admitted.

“You found it, sweetness. Me. I’ll be your home. Seems only fitting, since you’re mine.”