Chapter 54
Bryn
“What on earth is going on back there?” I wonder out loud as Gran and I pull into the driveway of the house.
From our vantage point, the backyard is lit up in a way I don’t remember it being capable of, and from my seat in the passenger side of Gran’s car, all I see is the glowing aura of lights behind the house.
“I don’t know,” she says beside me, putting the car in park once inside the gate.
I’m not sure I believe her. “Really? You don’t? Why do I find that hard to believe?”
When she looks at me, her head shakes, and I see the honest confusion in her eyes. “I’m not always meddling around, you know. Such little faith in me.”
Huffing a laugh, I push my door open to the crisp November evening air, grabbing the bag of doners Gran and I picked up.
It was the first time in four days I’ve been out of the house after spending nearly forty-eight hours in the hospital after the fire.
It felt good to get out and do something after so long.
Truthfully, I was ready to get out yesterday, but Gran and Wyatt ganged up on me, begging me to wait another day.
And the outing I got wasn’t exactly long. A drive around town, finding dinner for the three of us, and then coming home. But it wasn’t the same four walls, so I’m not unhappy about it, and it was a good compromise to ease the two worriers.
Not that I blame either of them. I know what it feels like to be on the side that they’ve now had to live. It’s not an easy place to be.
Walking along the side of the house with Gran, we both stop at the same time when we come around the corner. In unison, we gasp.
Backyard lights are strung from the house over the deck, casting a warm yellow glow on the patio furniture below. Lanterns are set around the space, making it cozy and inviting, while two heat lamps glow on either side of the main sitting area.
That isn’t the magnificent part of it, though. The lanterns continue through the rest of the backyard, into the foliage and along the rocks lining the pond, up the waterfall, illuminating the entire area.
Wyatt stands at the top, cowboy hat on his head, black t-shirt he had on earlier now covered by his sherpa-lined jean jacket. His arm moves and my heart stops, knowing exactly what he’s doing when it disappears behind a post.
The switch for the fountain.
Reaching out, I grab Gran’s arm, hand sliding down until it reaches hers. The moment they meet and clasp together, the waterfall springs to life, cascading a wall of water down into the pond.
The trail of water is enough to have my eyes filling with tears, the same way the pond is refilling with water.
He did it. He got it to work.
Grandpa’s fountain is alive and well, and my heart has never felt so much like exploding.
My feet are carrying me before my mind catches up. Dropping the bag of dinner on the loveseat, I sprint towards the rock stairwell to lead me up to where Wyatt is. He’s on his way down before I hit the first step, catching me in his arms as I leap into them.
“You did it,” I squeal, ducking into his neck to avoid his hat with a mix of excitement and raw emotion. “You fixed it.”
“A labor of love,” he whispers into my hair, one arm gripping me tightly around the waist, the other at the back of my head, cradling me to him. “For my love.”
His love. He might as well have said he loves me, something he’s held back and forced me to keep inside. Every time I’ve gone to tell him over the past few days, he’s silenced me with a kiss, a finger to my lips, or some excited shout about the dumbest thing, making it clear he wanted to wait.
Tears slide down my cheeks as I pull back enough to find his gaze. “You don’t get to make me wait anymore, Wyatt Dalton. I love you.”
Setting me down on the stair above him, we’re eye to eye, his hands coming to my face. “Perfect timing.”
His lips are on mine a second later, claiming me like he claimed me at the auction.
Fully and thoroughly. Breathing more life into me than any oxygen possibly could.
His mouth caresses mine in a dance that makes me want to sing and laugh and tell him more, more, more for hours on end.
If I asked, I know he would give me more of anything within his power.
This man has not stopped giving since the moment I met him, and I want to give him all of me back.
When he ends the kiss, dropping a couple of more onto my lips for good measure, his head lifts only enough to look into my eyes.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,” I tell him before he can say a word back.
“It’s—”
Pressing a finger to his lips, I shake my head. “Thank you for loving me through it. For being a comforting presence without being a force. You gave me the time and space to get here on my own, and it makes me love you that much more for it.”
He takes my hand and gently places it over the tattoo beneath his shirt. “I would have waited the rest of my life for you, B. I know I came to California to be a firefighter, but truth is—” his hand presses mine deeper into his chest, “I think I came here looking for my hope. And I found her.”
His thumb catches a tear as it streaks down my cheek. “I love you, too.”
Pulling him back to me with my free hand, I kiss him again, my stomach diving on a flight of butterflies.
When he pulls me closer, his grip suddenly tightening, I think nothing of it until I’m being dipped sideways towards the ground.
It has me gasping into the kiss, my heart skipping more than one beat, but he never lets his lips leave mine, despite my laughter bubbling up between us.
When he rights us, finally ending the kiss, I feel breathless and weak in the knees, just like he promised, and it makes me cling to him. Something his smile tells me he wanted all along.
“That better have been a preview of what’s to come,” I whisper to him.
His eyes dart down to my chest. I know it’s not to catch a glimpse of any cleavage since I don’t have any showing in my cream sweater, but more to gauge how I’m feeling.
How my body is feeling after all the bruising left behind by the cables.
The first couple of days were rough, but I turned a real corner with most of the soreness two nights ago.
Now I’m craving another kind of sore.
“Might’ve been,” he answers with a smirk when his eyes drift back to mine, shooting me a wink.
“Is anyone interested in dinner?” Gran calls, her voice a little higher than usual. A little shakier, too.
Glancing over Wyatt’s shoulder, she’s standing there with an arm wrapped around herself, the other at her chin. From this far away, I can’t see any tears running down her cheeks, but I’d almost guarantee they’re there. When I realize there’s a tissue in her hand, I’m certain.
“Oh, Gran,” I say, and Wyatt lets me by so I can fly back down the steps to reach her on the deck.
Throwing my arms around her, I hug her tight, and she sniffles into my hair as she returns my embrace fiercely. I can’t imagine what it’s like for her to see the fountain up and running, knowing the last time it looked this way was when Grandpa was alive.
“I love you,” I whisper.
Her returning whisper makes me smile. “I love you, Sweetheart.”
“Aw, my girls,” Wyatt says, coming up beside us, and it makes my heart melt.
His arms circle around both Gran and me, and I’m suddenly surrounded by both their scents. One familiar and timeless, having been there since I was a little girl. The other fresh and full of promise, the picture of my future as a woman the age of Gran. Both my present.
Gran and I let each other go with one arm so we can hold Wyatt back, bringing him into our circle, and it’s a long moment before any of us ease away. When we do, we’re all smiling.
“Thank you for fixing it,” Gran says to Wyatt.
He shrugs, like it doesn’t mean the world to her. To me. “You did hire me to be your handyman. It kind of comes with the job.”
The eyeroll is so loud I’m sure they heard it in downtown Santa Rosé. “A job you’re not getting out of now that the fountain is fixed and you’re dating my granddaughter.”
“On one condition,” Wyatt stipulates. “You don’t go around breaking everything.”
Gran’s eyes widen as if she’s been accused of something she isn’t guilty of. Letting Wyatt go, she places a hand over her heart. “I did no such thing.”
“I’m still wondering how the hell you broke the door so bad,” I mutter as we all disband. Grabbing the bag of doners, I gesture towards the patio furniture. “It’s not too chilly out. Why don’t we sit and eat out here?”
“I already brought some blankets out,” Wyatt says, walking around to grab them from the loveseat.
Gran claps her hands together. “Perfect. We can eat and I can ask you two all my burning questions. Like when I can expect a wedding.”
“Ruby,” Wyatt says, and it might be the first time I’ve really heard a warning in his tone.
“I’d marry him tomorrow, if he asked,” I tell them both, bent over the coffee table while digging in the bag of food, going for the whole nonchalant thing like Wyatt did moments ago.
It’s dead quiet, like I’ve just dropped a bomb on the backyard, and I slowly look up to find each of them staring at me, mouths gaping. I wasn’t aiming to make them statues, but now that they’re both speechless—a massive feat, considering they both have energy for days—I can’t hold back a giggle.
“Don’t look at me like that. I hate that I wasted all this time not being together, why waste more time when I know what I want?” My eyes meet and lock with Wyatt’s, standing between the coffee table and loveseat. “You, for the record.”
Gran’s the first one to move, coming to my side to take my hand and give it a squeeze. “Quietly falling in love with him all these months isn’t a waste. Realizing you can have it all isn’t a waste. You’ll be stronger for it.”
My eyes slide to hers, and I squeeze her hand back. “Thank you for nudging me in the right direction all along.”
“Marry me,” Wyatt says, and my head snaps in his direction. He’s coming out from behind the coffee table, dropping down on one knee in front of me, Gran still at my side. “I don’t have a ring, but—”
“Yes, you do,” Gran says, releasing my hand to pull her ring off her finger.
“Gran!” I gasp, eyes widening as she hands it to Wyatt, my heart galloping in my chest. “What are you doing?”
“Whether you use it forever or you use it for now doesn’t matter,” she says, touching both Wyatt and me on the shoulder. “It brought luck to your grandfather and me, and it’s time to pass that luck on.”
Wyatt puts a hand over Gran’s, giving it a squeeze. It has tears springing to my eyes, feeling the love that I know they have for each other. She’s taken him in as her own as much as she took me in all those years ago.
When she steps back a moment later, Wyatt turns his attention back to me, a tear falling from my eye to trace down my cheek. He reaches for my hand, emotion glistening in his own eyes as I give it to him, and with Gran’s blessing, he asks me properly.
“I went on the last first date of my life back in June, and I’ve got the tattoo to prove it,” he says, a shiver running down my spine at the thought of the laser tag first kiss on his thigh.
“You are my last first everything, Brynleigh Myers. Dance, date, kiss.” His voice drops to a whisper. “Lover.”
“And, most importantly,” he continues, running the pad of his thumb over my ring finger. “My last first I love you.”
“Wy,” I murmur, the tears now streaming down my cheeks, making me blink them away so the vision of him doesn’t swim.
“Be my first, last, and only bride. Be my wife. Will you marry me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, threatening to crack with the emotion I imagine running rampant within him.
“Yes! Of course.”
He slips Gran’s ring on my finger before we’re moving in unison, my arms going around his neck while his go around my waist at the same time he gets to his feet, sweeping me off mine.
Our lips collide a second later, my heart beating wildly as he kisses me breathless until I feel like I might be seeing stars. Or dancing among them.
There’s a heavy, happy sigh from the side, and then Gran sniffles, “Good. Built in handyman for life.”
And a long, long life it’ll be. For all of us.