Chapter 19
Wyatt
He felt foolish standing on John’s doorstep holding a bottle of wine.
What the hell am I doing?
Steph’s motivational speech had bolstered him all the way here, but once he got off his motorcycle and walked up the front steps, nerves got the better of him and he hesitated, hand hovering over the buzzer.
He still had time to run, to put his helmet back on and walk his stupid, sorry ass out of there before he humiliated himself any further.
C’mon, Wyatt.
You can do this.
He sucked in a fortified breath and nearly jumped when the door swung open, startling him. A little girl, no more than five, stood before him, dressed in a fluffy yellow dress with a golden crown, holding a sparkling plastic scepter.
“Hello!” She flourished her scepter rather sharply at him. “You bow in the presence of a queen.”
Wyatt snorted and covered it quickly with a cough, sinking into a bow, “Your majesty.”
She patted his shoulder with a snap of the glittering scepter. “Rise, knight.” He once more tried not to laugh, as she indicated to his black helmet with narrowed eyes, “Armor?”
“Safety first, your highness,” he tapped his knuckles to his head, and she nodded approvingly.
“My mom makes me ride with my helmet, too,” she declared loftily. “Says I’ll end up in Uncle Johnny’s realm if I don’t.”
He smirked, nodding. “I would have to agree with your mother. I work in Uncle Johnny’s realm, and it can be, at times, a treacherous place. Not a place fit for a queen such as yourself.”
She sniffed, “What is your name, knight?”
“Wyatt. I’m training to be a doctor like your uncle.”
She beamed, “Cool.”
“Is your uncle around?”
“Out in the backyard grilling a turkey.”
“Do you mind if I come in? Or I can stay out here until you get him.”
She hesitated, and then he heard a voice behind her. “Olive, really? How many times do I have to tell you to let an adult answer the door?”
A woman appeared in the doorway, her rich brown hair in a scattered, messy bun. She wore pale blue jeans and a long forest green blouse, with dark blue eyes—John’s eyes. This must be his sister, he realized.
“Hi, sorry,” she said with a bland yet pretty smile. “Can I help you?”
“I was just stopping by to say hi to Dr. Donnelly. I was in the neighborhood.”
“With a bottle of wine?” She asked, her gaze narrowing.
“He did me a favor last week…” He paused, glancing at the little girl named Olive, knowing he needed to keep this story kid-friendly. “He saved me from a mighty troll. I’m here to give him my regards.”
She nodded, glancing behind her as though debating on leaving him on the front porch.
“This is Dr. Wyatt. He works with Uncle Johnny,” Olive stated, smacking her mom in the butt with her scepter. “There’s another doctor here today, too. Dr. Sammy! He’s cool.”
Wyatt remembered that Samuels practically threatened John for an invite to his Thanksgiving.
Oh shit.
Turkey, Samuels, John’s family… they were all here at John’s house to celebrate a late Thanksgiving, and Wyatt had just crashed it.
Mortified, he stiffened and tried not to show his panic.
“Ouch,” the woman said, snatching the scepter out of her daughter's hand. “I’m Justine, John’s sister. And this is my daughter, Olivia.”
Wyatt politely held out his hand, and Justine shook it.
She opened the door wide and ushered him inside.
He fought down his nerves, knowing it was too late to retreat now as they walked through John’s house.
He was unable to stop his thoughts from returning to the last time he was here, of feeling John’s slumbering body pressed against his, showering together, playing house, making love.
It had been so easy to fantasize about what it would be like to be here all the time.
To not just be John’s guest, but his partner… his person… his.
Emotions tightened in his stomach like a fist, and he noticed the kitchen island and dining table covered with bowls, plates, and food.
“We got lucky with the weather,” Justine commented. “Well, my dad did. Insisted on grilling the turkey this year. We’re all outside on the patio.”
Slipping his fingers through his hair and pushing it out of his face, he stepped out onto the sunny backyard patio.
It was gorgeously designed, with plenty of space for a party.
There was a paved walkway with concrete around the house and two fire pits, lit and radiating plenty of heat.
Beautifully colored potted plants were covered for the season, and he knew this place would look spectacular in the spring.
He noted the four planter boxes alongside the fence line and the jacuzzi.
John’s home represented him. Clean, well-maintained, orderly, and…
Lonely.
Wyatt had noticed it the first time he was here. All this space, all these rooms, and no one waiting for him when he came home after a long shift. The thought stayed with him. Yet seeing John’s family, laughing and gathered in his home, seemed to breathe life into it.
And apparently into John, too, who was standing by the grill wearing a plastic yellow tiara and a scepter of his own, shoved in his back pocket as he held a baby in his arms. He was cooing lovingly down to the bundle of blankets in his arms as curious, tiny hands reached for his beard, digging into it the way Wyatt loved to do.
He couldn’t help but feel the tug of a smile on the corner of his lips, getting to witness John so relaxed with his family.
An older man, whom Wyatt assumed was John’s dad, kept lifting the grill lid to check on the turkey.
He was momentarily transfixed by the easy, natural smile on John’s face.
Wyatt’s heart thudded. He loved his smile.
He loved him.
Fuck. Knock it off.
He sucked in another breath and felt the snap of something on his butt. Glancing down, he saw Olivia with her golden plastic scepter once more. “This way, knight.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle, wondering how she had gotten the weapon back already from her mom.
“She’s got a thing for smacking people's butts with that, so watch out,” Samuels’s drawling voice said, and Wyatt glanced up to the older man.
He was dressed in casual dark jeans, a navy-blue undershirt, and a gray plaid long-sleeved flannel shirt over it.
Even though he was younger than John by a couple of years, his gray was richer through his brown, slightly curly hair.
He was a very handsome man in his own right, but he never paid much attention to it because another ED doctor had Wyatt’s full attention.
He saw the heavy bags under Samuels's eyes, and his usual easy smile seemed a little more strained. “I think it’s how she keeps her subjects in line,” Samuels said, taking a sip from his glass of wine and eyeing him frankly. “Good to see you, man. How’s the arm?”
“Good.”
He nodded and glanced toward John, who hadn’t noticed him yet. “John invited me over cause all my family’s back in New York. Didn’t want me celebrating Thanksgiving alone. Oh, and I also sorta blackmailed him into it.”
Wyatt saw the twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he winked and turned back to the firepit he had been sitting at with another man, who yanked the scepter out of Olive’s hand, chastising her. That must be her dad, Wyatt amused.
“Johnny!” Justine said, walking down the few steps and toward her brother. “You got another guest.”
John, still cradling the baby, turned, and his smiling face fell slightly in surprise at the sight of Wyatt. He felt a flush begin to creep up his cheeks.
I shouldn’t have come.
I’ve interrupted his family time.
Fuck, I’m an idiot.
Justine slid her arms beneath John’s and carefully cradled the baby into her arms. “I’ll take over.”
He nodded, “Give me a couple of minutes.”
“What? Afraid I’ll let papa burn the turkey like he did last year?”
John shook his head with that half-hearted smile and quickly walked up the few steps of his patio to Wyatt, who was frozen in place.
“Let’s go inside,” John said quietly.
Wyatt noticed the tension in his shoulders and nodded, following him back inside the house and closing the heavy slider door behind him, butterflies swirling in his stomach. John walked into the kitchen and glanced over his shoulder at the party outside, seeming to make sure no one followed them.
“What are you doing here?” John asked in a clipped tone, and Wyatt knew John was having a serious moment, but he couldn’t take him seriously with that plastic tiara still in his hair.
He set the bottle of wine down with the rest of the food spread out on the kitchen island, placed his helmet on the floor and strode up to John, whose throat bobbed the closer he got, eyes narrowing.
“You’ve got…” He reached and plucked the tiara from his hair, placing it on the kitchen island.
John snorted a slight laugh, rubbing a hand through his hair and tousling it.
Unable to stop himself, Wyatt stepped a little closer, invading his space.
John wore a sexy beige cashmere sweater that sculpted the contours of his body, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, paired with navy blue jeans and black designer boots with a hint of beige to match.
His beard was a bit overgrown, though, and his hair unkempt.
He had the same bags under his eyes as Samuels, and he vaguely wondered how hard the last week he had missed was.
“Steph came by,” Wyatt admitted, wanting to touch him but resisting. “Told me some things…”
“Shit,” John scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell them about...”
Us.
John cleared his throat roughly, “I was drunk. Not an excuse, I know. I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”
Wyatt wouldn’t reveal that he was thrilled he had told his friends about them.
It was one of the reasons he was there. But what John had told them, he still didn’t fully know.
He had also intended to come over and seduce him, intentionally dressing in the same all-black outfit from the commercial and debating on wearing the cowboy hat too, because John seemed to like it so much.