I couldn’t squash my sudden curiosity. “Has he been spreading rumors about me?” I asked Gramps, grinning at Wyatt.
“No ma’am. He spoke nothing but the truth. Your voice is just as he described. Sandpaper dipped in honey—gritty and sweet.”
My stomach tightened, heat engulfing me at the compliment.
“Did you really say that about my voice?” I asked, watching Wyatt’s reaction.
His beautiful mouth quirked up into a bashful half-smile as he looked up at me through his dark lashes. Our eyes locked briefly before Wyatt looked away.
The look had been fleeting, but it had awakened a hunger inside of me. A slumbering giant sprang to life, shaking loose a flood of emotions that crackled through my veins like lightning.
“I don’t remember saying those words exactly,” Wyatt hedged. But it was too late. I knew the truth. I’d seen it in his eyes.
Plus, his grandfather wasn’t going to cut him any slack. “No, those were your exact words. You called me up directly and said you’d never heard such a beautifully raw voice in your whole life.”
“Gramps, your memory’s going again, it must be time for your medicine.”
“I just took my meds.” Gramps’s bewilderment gave way to a sudden raspy laugh. “Oh, wait. I’m cramping your mac, aren’t I?”
Wyatt cringed, but couldn’t hold back his smirk. “Something like that, Gramps.”
“Well, take my advice, you two beautiful young people. Time’s a wasting. Tell each other what’s in your heart. That’s what I did with my Rosy. Seventy years and it still isn’t enough.”
He sighed, looking off into the distance as sadness filled the room. It was as if even the sun could feel his grief, respectfully tucking itself behind the clouds while Henry had his moment of melancholy—missing a woman who was so nearby.
I couldn’t imagine it—sharing a room with a spouse who didn’t remember you after seventy years of making a life together. The thought was paralyzing; a fact not lost on me regarding Gramps’s health.
I wasn’t sure, but I imagined he must’ve had some kind of stroke that caused his loss of movement. It seemed horribly ironic considering the monumental effort it must take to face the heartache of being so close, yet so far away from his wife.
As if reading my thoughts, Henry spoke, his eyes no longer distant. “How is my beautiful bride today?”
“She’s good,” Wyatt said, softly. “She told me about her grandson who’s in fifth grade.”
Gramps smiled. “Ah, yes. I remember that year. You came to stay with us over spring break and you two fed the geese until they were tame enough to eat out of your hands.”
Wyatt laughed. “Oh yeah! And I got scared because they got so bold, they tried to follow me in your house.”
Gramps laughed. “Rosy loved having you stay with us. She would brag about you to her garden club nonstop.” Gramps directed his voice toward me. “It was completely deserved. The boy’s a genius. He could play six instruments by the time he was eight.”
Wyatt groaned. “I do remember Gram-cracker making me put on a piano recital at your house that one time.”
“Oh, I remember that, too. Jane Morley actually told your grandmother she didn’t believe you were as good as she said you were, so she had you play for her whole garden club to prove it. Then Jane had the audacity to say she wasn’t impressed!” Gramps laughed. “I’m pretty sure old Jane was saucing her teacups with whiskey back then. She couldn’t spot talent on the broadside of a barn.”
“What did Rosy say to Jane?” I asked.
Gramps gave a very Wyatt-like smirk. “The funniest thing happened. The next morning, we woke up to find that someone had driven a car through the Morley’s front garden. And with no garden, Jane had to withdraw from the club.”
Wyatt barked one of those rare deep laughs I loved. “Go Gram-cracker.”
Gramps wheezed a laugh, too. “Nothing was more important to her than family.”
“I wish I remembered her better,” Wyatt said softly as he looked over at his grandmother.
Gramps took Wyatt’s hand in his and squeezed. “Don’t worry, I remember her for the both of us.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Layne
I felt strangely numb as I followed Wyatt out into the sunny parking lot.
We’d spent the rest of the hour listening to Gramps tell tales about Wyatt’s grandmother and their epic love story. My heart had broken and mended itself so many times it left me feeling wrung dry. But when Wyatt turned to me, a new wave of emotions crashed over me. I was so incredibly grateful he’d allowed me to see this side of him.
I’d not only learned a lot of life lessons today, but I learned there was much more to Wyatt Nash, than anyone knew.
“Thanks for coming with me,” he said as we walked to his car.
My eyes brimmed with tears. “I should be the one thanking you.”
Wyatt took my hand, his eyes full of confusion as he assessed my trembling expression. “Layne . . . I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you sad.”
“I know,” I said quickly, wiping away my stupid tears. I hated that I cried more when I was happy than sad. My heart was so full of gratitude that the last thing I wanted to do was waste time crying, but apparently my tear ducts had other plans.
“I get it now,” I whispered.
“You do?” he asked, looking slightly hopeful.
“Yes. Time is a precious gift. Tomorrow’s not guaranteed. None of us know how long we have to follow our dreams. I know that. I guess I always have, but this was a good reminder, so thank you.”
He nodded, his eyes still searching mine. “It’s why I’m pushing you so hard to do this. It’s too good an opportunity to pass up.” He moved closer, his hand coming up to gently push my hair away from my face. “The world needs to hear your voice.”
Gramps’s words floated back to me and I smiled up at Wyatt. “Did you really say that about me? That my voice sounded like sandpaper and honey?”
Wyatt almost blushed as his jaw muscles ticked with amusement, his lips quirking to the side. “Note to self, Gramps is a terrible secret keeper.” He looked at me with sincerity. “I meant it as a compliment.”
“I know,” I replied. “I think it may’ve been the best one I’ve ever gotten.”
He grinned. “Well, it’s the truth.”
“Why wouldn’t you just tell me that?”
Wyatt gave me a cynical look. “Since when do you listen to anything I say?”
“Well, maybe I will now.”
The strength in my voice made Wyatt’s dark eyebrows shoot up. “So, you’ll do it? You’ll sing on the track?”
“Yes. But next time don’t use your adorable grandparents to guilt me into it.”
He smirked. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“Yes, but I actually like when you tell me what’s going on in here,” I said placing my hand over his heart.
Wyatt flinched under my sudden boldness, the startled pleasure in his green eyes making my blood sing as I ached to slide my hand up his chest and pull him into another kiss. My body went tingly at the thought.