His eyes narrow, he inhales as if he’s finally going to say something, he doesn’t. He shakes his head and turns away from me. I watch as he closes the bathroom door and I close my eyes. What the hell is going on with him? Why is he being this way? Is this the end of us? Does he want out, now that his house is finished, are we, too?
A million different questions swim around in my head, questions that I don’t have an answer to. A few moments later, Wyatt is out of the bathroom, a billow of steam following him. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and droplets of water on his chest. I lick my lips at the sight, wishing that I could taste him—all of him.
“Exeter,” he grunts. My eyes lift to his and I notice how dark his own are as he watches me. “I will talk to you later, it’s time,” he ominously explains.
“I’m spending the day with MawMaw, we’re visiting Emily,” I murmur.
He nods, lifting his hand and running his fingers through his damp hair. “You’ll be back here by five-thirty? I’m getting off a little early so I can get those docs signed and done.”
I nod, biting the inside of my cheek. Wyatt takes a step toward me, then another, until he’s right next to me. I watch as he lifts his knee, it sinks into the mattress next to my hip, followed by the other. One of his hands extends and he cups my cheek.
“You’ll be here at five-thirty, right sugar?” he breathes.
I nod again. “I’ll be here,” I verbally confirm.
He watches me, his eyes focused on mine before they move down my face. “We’ll talk, I fuckin’ promise.”
Pressing my lips together, I keep my eyes focused on his, wondering if I can believe everything, wondering what is going to happen later, and then my stomach twists when the realization that later will probably be the last time for us. That we’re done.
“Exeter,” he snaps. My head jerks and his jaw clenches. I watch as the muscle jumps in his cheek and his eyes look assessing as he watches me. “We’ll talk. Get whatever fucked up shit that swirling around your head, out.”
Wyatt lowers his head, his lips touching mine in a gentle brush of a kiss. “Later, sugar,” he rasps against my mouth.
I don’t move as I watch him dress for the day. His fire rated jeans fit his legs perfectly, so does the khaki colored work shirt. Slipping his feet into his dark brown work boots, he looks back at me.
“Later,” he repeats.
He opens the door, walks out, then closes it behind him, I listen as the lock automatically clicks into place. I sit in the bed, watching the door for far longer than I should. Closing my eyes tightly, I inhale a deep breath before letting it out, then I open my eyes, force myself to stand, and head toward the bathroom.
If this is over, if what he has to say breaks me, like I have a feeling it just may, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself.
Letting the hot water wash over my body, I decide that I need to focus on MawMaw, and getting her out of Wyatt’s parents’ place. It’s really nice of them to let her stay there, but it’s been several days, and she needs her own space, maybe we can find something together. Lord knows I spend my free time with her anyway.
Finishing my shower, I dress in a pair of loose-fitting ripped jeans and a pair of flip-flops. I braid my hair quickly down my back and grab my purse as I head out of the hotel room. Inhaling deeply, I turn toward my car and quickly jog toward it.
Since MawMaw’s encounter, I can’t seem to help but think that my father could easily find me. Even though we’re one town over, it’s not that big. You can’t hide around here, not from everyone. Someone will assuredly have seen me here, then told someone else, then they tell their cousin, their aunt, and before you know it, everyone knows your business.
It’s just the way it is in a small town, the way it’s always been, and the way that it will always be.
WYATT
“Show up tomorrow at six, ready to go,” my foreman announces.
There is a mixture of excitement and dread throughout the crews that surround us. Contrary to some belief, not every lineman lives for the storm. I did. Until I had someone waiting for me back at home. Now, I understand why some guys don’t want to go, or if they do, not for long extended periods of time.
My stomach twists at the thought of leaving Exeter for weeks, or months. The threat of her father, my new house, and our rocky status of a relationship right now is almost too fucking much. Everything, and I mean, everything is up in the air.
I should have told her about my past, about Sammi and our relationship about our baby. I should have already told it all to her, but I kept putting it off. Now it’s unavoidable. I can’t put it off another day. If I don’t tell her tonight, then I don’t know if I ever will.
I’m leaving, and I want her in my house, in my bed and to be mine, but not without knowing all of me. I couldn’t bear for her to find out later, for someone to slip, and honestly, I’m surprised nobody has yet.
Rylan clears his throat next to me after the foreman and general foremen walk away together. Their heads are down in serious conversation, most likely talking about tomorrow morning’s game plan.
Back-to-back hurricanes, both fucking huge and moving as slow as molasses, goddamn we could be gone for six months.
Turning my head, I look over at my cousin. “I don’t want to miss the baby being born,” he murmurs.
I shake my head. “You ain’t missin’ shit, cousin. Worse comes to worse, you’ll fly back for the birth,” I promise. He will too, he’s my groundhand and he will not miss this child’s birth—his child’s birth, not if I have anything to say about it.
“Ready to go home?” I ask, looking over at him.
He doesn’t seem to have any of his worries eased, and I don’t blame him. Channing needs him, and he’ll be gone. This is the life we lead, and some years we don’t go anywhere and some, like this year, it’s goddamn mayhem. He nods, turning toward the truck, his feet moving, but his mind is gone, too busy thinking of the what-ifs of what is to come. I don’t blame him; I’m feeling the exact same way.
The drive home is silent, and once we arrive to Rylan’s, he exhales and shakes his head. “Swear when we leave tomorrow that I’ll be able to see my baby come into this world?” he asks again.
I nod. “Swear to Christ, cousin. You will not miss it,” I promise.
His head turns, his eyes meet mine and he lifts his chin. “I’m doin’ this for them, working my ass off and trying to be a good man. It’s for the people I killed, but it’s for Channing and the baby too. Equal parts and shit,” he mutters.
“It’s for you too, Rylan.”
He grunts, his eyes never breaking from mine. “It’s for me too,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Spend as much time as you can with her tonight. Make sure everything is handled around the yard. If we’re gone too long, I’ll send Ford over to cut the grass and check on her, he’s always in town.”
Rylan lets out a long exhale. “Fuck, I didn’t even think about that shit. Ford would do that, wouldn’t he?”
“You know it,” I snort.
I watch as he exits the truck, then stops before he slams the door closed. “All y’all. I couldn’t do any of it without you,” he admits, but before I can say anything else, he closes the door and jogs away from me.