“Yes, of course.”
His heart got a running start and tackled his lungs. “Good. But let’s get one thing straight, darlin’. I’m not sleeping in my girlfriend’s guest room. You’re getting me in your house and your bed, or nothing at all.”
Bethany was silent long enough to make him sweat. “I think I can agree to those terms.” Was that a smile in her voice?
The weight flew from his shoulders. “All right, then.”
“Wes?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“What would you have done if I’d called your bluff?”
Admiration spread like butter in his chest, his mouth forming a slow smile. “Moved in anyway and seduced you.”
There was that beautiful giggle. “Oh yeah? How?”
“Fought with you until you realized you’re crazy about me,” he drawled. “That method seems to work on you like a charm.”
“You might be right,” she murmured after several beats. “I was thinking you could bring some things tomorrow night after work. I should have the rooms ready by then.”
“Room, Bethany. Singular.”
“Oh yeahhh, that’s right. Almost forgot.”
He relaxed when he heard the cheeky smile in her tone. “Close the bathroom door until I get back. Your butt looks insane in those pants.”
“Chauvinist.”
“What’s mine is mine.”
She groaned, but he heard the door shut.
“What’s yours is yours, too, Bethany. You going to hang on to me?”
Wes hung up before she could answer. He was afraid to hear a single note of uncertainty, worried what it would do to him. Hanging up without saying good-bye bothered him, however, so he started to dial her number again—but that was when a shadow darkened his shoes and he looked up to find his sister.
Slowly, he put away the cell phone. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah.” She nodded jerkily, but he could see in her eyes that she’d realized letting him be Laura’s guardian until she got back on her feet was the right thing to do. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
A while later, when he signed the documents, he put down Bethany’s address as Laura’s permanent residence and ignored the feeling of diving without a parachute.
Wednesday wasn’t so much a moving day as it was Wes and Laura throwing duffels into the back of his truck. Most of the things inside the house belonged to his sister, and at some point, he would probably need to help her move them, but as for his own possessions? There weren’t many. He’d arrived in Port Jefferson with his wallet, some clothes, and a cowboy hat. Not much had been accumulated since then.
He’d come home last night after filing the papers with the county clerk and told Laura they were moving into Elsa’s ice castle, but it had been disguised as a house to keep her powers a secret. At the time, she’d laughed and seemed excited. Now that they were en route, though, she was clutching her teddy bear a little too tightly, so instead of going straight to Bethany’s house, he drove to Main Street and parked in front of the ice cream shop.
Wes unhooked her from her booster seat and held her hand on the way inside, letting her order an extra scoop with rainbow sprinkles and gummy bears. They sat in the window quietly for a few minutes while Wes tried to figure out how the hell to approach the topic of her obvious stress.
Two females and their complicated minds were going to kill him.
He could already tell.
“Hey.” He nudged his vanilla-chocolate swirl across the table. “You want to try mine?”
“No.”
He retreated. Took a few more bites. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
Inwardly he sighed. Looked like he would have to give a little of himself to get the truth out of her. Confiding in people was something he’d once avoided at all costs. Who wanted others knowing they had sore spots and weaknesses? But getting to know Bethany, Stephen, Travis, and Dominic had made him realize . . . everyone had weaknesses. They just came in different sizes and shapes. Maybe he could impart some of that wisdom on his niece. “You know, this is going to be the fifteenth house I’ve lived in.”
She almost dropped her spoon. “Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How many have I lived in?”
“I think this will be three or four, kid. But you know the good news? You’re never going to catch up with me. Least not until you’re an old lady with a cane. Maybe not even then, because I’m not going to let that happen.” He paused, searching for the right words. “I know when I got here, it seemed like I was going to leave. That’s what I was used to doing. But you had to go and be wonderful. My plans changed and they include you now.”
A spark of joy went off in her eyes, but it faded little by little and she continued to tap her spoon against the tip of her ice cream mountain. “I want to move. I’m happy we get to live with Elsa.”
Wes frowned. Didn’t see that one coming. “Explain the pout, then.”
“I’m not pouting,” she exclaimed, rearing back.
He held up his hands. “My mistake.”
They went back to eating silently for a while, but Wes could see she was working on whatever she wanted to say. “This means my mom isn’t coming back.”
His spoon slowed on its way to his mouth. “She wants to come back, Laura. This just means she needs more time to do it.”
Slowly, she laid down her utensil and stared at the table. “It makes me feel bad to be happy.”
It took him a beat to untangle that, but understanding dawned. “Ah. I see.” He swallowed. “You feel guilty for not wanting your mom to come home.”
She shrugged her tiny shoulders. “It’s just better now. With you.”
Wes chose his words carefully. If he’d learned anything from Bethany, it was that women didn’t always need a solution, they just needed to get shit off their chests. His niece definitely didn’t need to hear she was wrong for thinking a certain way, but he wanted to help absolve her of the natural guilt all the same. “Hey.”
Laura glanced up. “What?”
“Did you know that only good people can feel guilty?”
She quirked a skeptical eyebrow, but he had her attention.
“It’s true. Think about it. You feel guilty because you think your feelings might hurt your mom if she found out.” He waited for her reluctant nod. “If you were a bad person, you wouldn’t care if you hurt someone else.”
“Oh,” she murmured. “But it would still hurt her.”
“Maybe. Yeah. But it’s not your job to make other people happy, kid. Especially not the people who are supposed to be making you happy.” He leaned back in his chair and gave her a narrow-eyed look. “Unless you want to let somebody sleep past six A.M. once in a while. That would be totally acceptable.”
Finally, he caught the ghost of a smile, but her eyes were still troubled.
“Tell you what,” he said. “I think it’s okay to be happy we’re moving in with Bethany. Why don’t you let yourself be happy for now, as long as you give Mom a chance when she’s able to come back? Does that seem fair?”
“I still won’t want to. Because . . . if she comes back, you’ll leave.”