Chapter 28
Bryn
“Hold it steady,” Wyatt grunts from one side of the screen door.
Nate, holding it on the other side, grumbles back. “I am holding it steady. You’re leaning against it.”
Savanna and I exchange a look, both of us biting back laughter. They look ridiculous together, face to face, Nate’s arms out, Wyatt’s up. From our vantage point a few feet away, they both look smushed against the door, ready to envelop each other in a hug if not for the glass between them.
Gran did an incredible job when she broke the door. Whatever she did—which she still denies doing—it was bad enough that Wyatt couldn’t fix it. He ended up having to get brand new hinges and refused to let me help him with it, instead waiting for one of the guys to be free.
Naturally, that’s taken three weeks.
Three long weeks of Wyatt being around all the time.
Gran hasn’t let the list run out of things she needs done, keeping him busier than a worker bee in a hive looking for pollen day in and day out for a Queen.
Leaky faucets, slow drains, patching holes.
All things that never seemed to be a problem are suddenly popping up all over the house.
After the first week, I called her out on it over breakfast and she just looked at me with a knowing smile, shrugged a shoulder, and asked me to pass the cream for her coffee. No one, Wyatt included, is under any illusion to what she’s doing. Meddling.
“Okay, but tell me this isn’t kind of hot,” Savanna says under her breath, bumping into me as we watch the two men work together. “Look at them. Fixing. Putting the door back together. Do you see Nate’s forearms right now?”
I’m too busy staring at Wyatt and the sliver of skin poking out beneath his t-shirt that’s rising above his jeans while he works on the top hinge. Even if Wyatt wasn’t there, I wouldn’t notice Nate. He’s too much like family to me. But that doesn’t stop me from nodding my head in agreement.
Unfortunately for me, I’ve witnessed many moments like this in the last few weeks with Wyatt. Bits of skin, muscles straining, the man fixing. It’s like Gran has purposely asked him to be there every time she knows I’m going to be home.
“I’m going to climb that man like a tree later,” Savanna sighs, fluffing her hair out before twirling a piece around her finger.
“We can hear you, you know,” Nate grounds out.
“I’m ovulating, it’s the hormones. You can’t blame me.”
Nate takes his eyes off what they’re doing for a moment to connect with Savanna. “Right. That’s what it is.”
Something passes between them, Savanna’s cheeks turning a pretty pink, a smirk forming on Nate’s face as his attention focuses back on the task at hand.
Before I can ask, Savanna says, “Even if I wasn’t ovulating, I’d still want to climb him like a tree.”
“Got it,” Wyatt declares, and steps back. “Let it go.”
Nate does, and the two of them look at their handy work, fist bumping when the door doesn’t fall away from the house. Wyatt’s boot still holds it open so it doesn’t slam in his face, and when they both step away, he tests the swinging of it.
“Oh, thank god,” I breathe out when it doesn’t drop an inch or make a creaking sound that makes me want to claw my ears out like it began doing a week ago.
“Ruby,” Wyatt calls into the house. Gran stayed inside when Savanna and I came to check on the boys’ progress, but she now appears at the entrance to the mudroom. He opens and closes the door to show her it’s fixed. “Now remember what we talked about—no screwin’ around with this again.”
Gran places a hand on her chest, eyes widening in innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear boy. It’s been wobbly for ages.”
“You must’ve hit your head harder than you thought,” he says, wagging a finger at her, a line he’s repeated more than once. “It was perfectly fine when you bumped your head, I was here.”
Savanna presses into me, whispering, “They seem to be getting along well.”
“Don’t get me started,” I whisper back, looping my arm through hers. “He sees right through her, and she knows it, but I think they both love it.”
“So, when are you guys going to start dating again?” Savanna questions, this time a little louder.
Too loud. Wyatt’s facing the inside of the house, but his entire body stiffens.
Elbowing her in the side to shut her up, I glare. “We’re just friends,” I respond, ensuring Wyatt also hears that.
He remains tense when my eyes flick back to him, but he unfreezes, disappearing through the newly fixed door. It doesn’t feel good to have to keep pointing it out, especially knowing it’s not what he wants, even if he’s been completely respectful of the line I’ve drawn.
“Right. That’s what it is,” Savanna says, mimicking Nate. Which makes me believe that there truly was something that passed between them that I didn’t understand. “Newsflash, friends don’t look at friends like he looks at you. But that’s all I’m saying.”
“Forever?”
“You wish. For today,” she laughs, tugging me towards the fixed door.
We both stop before reaching it because it opens a second later, and Wyatt walks out with a tray of lemonade and cookies.
Nate, cleaning up the tools they were using, grins. “Are those Ruby’s homemade chocolate chip?”
“Couldn’t have you over without pulling some out of the freezer, now, could I?” Gran asks, following Wyatt out of the house with glasses. “Everyone to the back deck for a little break.”
“Before you put us back to work?” Nate laughs, taking the tray from her hands.
“Well, if I don’t keep him busy,” Gran answers nonchalantly, pointing at Wyatt ahead of her, “Bryn might fire him, so yes, before I put you back to work.”
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “You hired him, I can’t fire him.”
“Don’t pretend he wouldn’t stop showing up if you told him to stay away,” Gran counters.
I can’t disagree with her, and everyone knows it.
Gran takes the only chair of the cornflower-blue cushioned wicker patio furniture, leaving a larger couch and a loveseat for the remainder of us.
Savanna, realizing Gran’s plan and eager to assist, pushes her way past Nate to take the couch before he can plant himself on the loveseat.
He stares at her for a long moment, then joins her, taking the middle seat.
Wyatt sets down the tray of drinks and treats on the table between us all, and then folds himself into the two-seater, leaving me with a choice.
I can sit beside Nate, or I can sit beside Wyatt.
Getting to the seat beside Nate, however, requires me to either climb over Gran, Savanna, and Nate or crawl over Wyatt’s legs.
Which means the easiest thing for me is to sit beside the man I try not to think about day in and day out.
Ten out of ten, I am unsuccessful at it. Especially late at night, long after he’s gone home and I’m lying in bed remembering him from throughout the day.
Steeling my nerves, I drop down beside Wyatt.
The heat of the day has hit, but it’s not unpleasant for a mid-August afternoon.
Or it wasn’t until I found myself next to a raging inferno.
It seems to pour off Wyatt in waves as the sides of our bodies touch, with his bulk taking up so much room on the little loveseat.
Reaching over, I grab a glass and start to pour lemonade for everyone in an effort not to spontaneously combust, handing one to Nate first, who hands it to Savanna.
“So, Savanna, dear,” Gran starts, reaching for the plate of cookies and offering it to her. “I was talking to Mildred the other day, and she reminded me that the auction is coming up quickly. How are things going?”
I freeze, mid-pour of the second glass, my eyes trailing upwards to stare at the woman directly across the table from me. It’s just conversation. It’s not Gran about to meddle or Savanna about to help her. It’s not.
“Oh, wonderful!” Savanna gushes, sitting forward in her seat. “We’ve had so much interest this year. Some new faces have decided to join too. I think it’s going to be the best yet.”
My stomach plummets. New faces? Is Wyatt one of those faces? Despite the auction taking place at 10-42, I haven’t been involved in much of the planning this time.
“Auction? Savanna, you mentioned something about it when Brody and I were at the bar after…” Wyatt trails off, taking the plate of cookies Nate passes him as I hand the now-filled second glass to the latter.
“Couple years ago, Savanna started a firefighter auction at 10-42,” Nate explains, taking a sip of his lemonade. “We use the funds to help local businesses in need.”
Wyatt lets out a chuckle. “A firefighter auction? Like, you get up on stage or something and get bid on, or what?”
“That’s generally how an auction works,” Gran quips.
Wyatt’s eyes bounce around between the three of them, then he looks at me. “They’re serious?”
Out of nowhere there’s a flutter in my stomach. Out of all of them, he trusts me to give him the honest truth.
I nod, handing him his glass of lemonade. “Yep. There’s even some stripping involved. I’ve seen more of some firefighters than I care to think about.”
That causes everyone to chuckle.
“You know,” Savanna starts, angling her body in the direction of the loveseat. “Wyatt, you’re single, right?”
He shifts beside me like he’s unable to help it, then confirms. “I am.”
No. No, she is not doing this. Savanna would never.
“You’d be a really big draw, you know. Especially if you put it up on your social media—you’re a pretty popular guy on there,” she continues, definitely not having heard my internal screaming at her.
“I mean, I could definitely promote it,” he responds, not commenting on what Savanna is getting at.
I pour a lemonade for Gran, my jaw clenching tightly while I listen to this ridiculous idea. Wyatt up on stage being bid on? By women? It’s preposterous.
Except it’s not, and I know it.
“I think she wants you for more than that, Wyatt, dear,” Gran says from the other side of the table. “I imagine you’d be an even bigger draw than Brody is, especially if you promoted it. And it’s for charity, so surely no one would be upset.”
My eyes snap up to her, narrowing because I know that last comment was for me.
“Yeah. I mean, all you gotta do is go up on stage, shake your butt a bit like you did that night with Brody, and I bet you even beat him,” Savanna continues where Gran left off, and I force myself not to glare at her or ask about whatever night with Brody she’s referring to as I half stand up to reach across the table and give Gran her lemonade.
She smiles pleasantly at me as she takes the glass, like she doesn’t know what she’s doing, and I sit back down, finally filling a glass for myself.
“Beat Brody?” Wyatt questions, offering me a cookie on the plate he’s still holding. I take one and then he puts it down.
Nate smirks. “Would you believe he’s gotten the highest bid each year?”
“Bullshit.”
I start to explain the real reason he’s always got the highest bid. “It’s because—”
“What do you have to lose?” Savanna interjects, talking above me as she leans forward on the couch, setting down her lemonade. “I mean, unless Bryn is uncomfortable with it.”
“Why would I be uncomfortable?” I ask, but even I hear the way my voice pitches higher. Trying not to look guilty, I don’t bother clearing my throat. “I’m not his keeper. He should do it.”
“I should?” Wyatt questions, sounding more surprised than I expected. He shifts in his seat to see me better, eyebrows pulled together. “You want me to?”
The thought of him going on some date with some random person makes me want to throw up, but what am I supposed to say? We’re not together. I’ve made it abundantly clear that we are only friends. I’d be a hypocrite to tell him not to go on dates with anyone else. He deserves to be happy.
I swallow the real answer to his question, and shrug. “It’s up to you, but it’s for a good cause, and it’s a fun night.”
He stares at me, eyes bouncing between mine, searching for answers to unspoken questions. His head angles towards Savanna, but his eyes don’t leave my face as he asks, “I’m just auctioning off my time? A date with someone?”
“Yep,” she confirms. “Nothing has ever come from one of these dates, either, if that makes you feel better.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure Tyson has fucked his,” Nate mutters.
In my periphery, Savanna hits him in the gut. “Not helping.”
Wyatt’s leg presses against mine. A subtle move that I don’t think anyone else would pick up. A silent question, if his imploring eyes are any indication.
Are you sure?
No, I’m not sure. My heart is wild in my chest, desperate for me to tell him not to do it, not to go on a date with someone else. But I can’t do that.
With the same muted softness as his leg nudge, I slowly blink, and with that blink, give a nod of my head.
I’m sure.
He stares at me for one more long moment that stretches into eternity before blowing out a breath. When his shoulders sag, I know he’s admitting some kind of defeat, and it makes me want to take it all back.
“Okay,” he tells Savanna, finally looking away. The same stupid smile I saw him wear at my favorite bench after I told him I couldn’t see him anymore forces its way onto his face. “I’ll do it.”
While she squeals in delight, I stuff the cookie into my mouth, feeling like I’ve just made a grave mistake.
Someone else is going to go on a date with Wyatt. I should probably start praying now that it’ll only ever be one of three.