Chapter Thirteen
“Oh, Wyatt, you didn’t tell me how cute he was,” Bea said as Tony helped her out of the car. “He’s adorable.”
“And now he also has a much bigger head. I’m not sure how we’re going to fit through the front door,” Wyatt teased as he and Ryan walked up to meet her.
“I’m Ryan, Mrs. Blake,” Ryan said, reaching out to clasp her hand in his. He leaned down and brushed a quick kiss across her cheek. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“You as well, dear boy.” Nana beamed up at him. “You’re much cuter than you are on TV.”
Wyatt didn’t know his grandmother even watched baseball. Tony, who was just finishing with the valet, gave him a distracted shrug that meant he didn’t know either.
“I didn’t know you followed the Dodgers,” Ryan said, sounding surprised and pleased, before Wyatt could even ask her what she was talking about.
“I didn’t, not before now,” she said, tucking her arm into Ryan’s proffered one. “But they replay games all the time on MLB Network. Who knew?”
Wyatt fell back, next to Tony and watched them walk up the steps into the big patio that surrounded Terroir on all sides.
There were a number of people milling around, holding glasses of champagne and coffee cups, all chattering away, looking superior because they’d managed to score an invite to the most exclusive brunch in Napa.
He, Tony, and Ryan barely looked like they belonged—Tony least of all with his close-shaved head and tattoos peeking out of his short-sleeve button-down.
His nana, with her sweet smile, and brightly printed floral day dress, looked like she never belonged anywhere else, and it filled his heart with a bittersweet joy that he was able to give her this, even as her memory began to fail.
She might not remember today’s details exactly, but hopefully she’d remember that she had grandsons that loved her very much.
“I’ll go grab us some drinks,” Wyatt said as Ryan made sure to get them close to the trellis, where the front gave some shade from the sun.
“I’ll help,” Tony said.
As they approached the outdoor bar to order, Tony leaned in and asked, “You okay leaving your boyfriend with Nana? She might grill him.”
“And find out what?” Wyatt asked with exasperation. “That he’s an awesome guy? I hope so. I’ve never gotten to introduce her to someone I really cared about before, and you know what? I’m glad I could with Ryan.”
But Tony just shook his head, a look on his face that made Wyatt’s stomach wrench. “I heard some stuff,” he said. “After you left, I heard from a guy in the kitchen that knows someone else who used to hook up with him all the time.”
“Used to,” Wyatt emphasized. Did he like thinking about Ryan’s history of various hookups? Not particularly, but he hardly expected him to be a saint before they’d even met. Sex was amazing; it was a perfectly natural reaction to want to have it if you could.
“I’m just saying,” Tony hissed as the person in front of them picked up their drink and departed from the bar. “You need to think about this.”
“I’m done thinking,” Wyatt said, and turned to the bartender. “Nico, it’s so good to see you.”
“You too, Wy,” he said, “what can I get you?”
“Two mimosas, a coffee with cream, no sugar, and a Bloody Mary.”
“You catch sight of the big boss yet?” Nico asked as he began to prepare the drinks. “Or should I ask, has the big boss seen you yet?”
“Thankfully, no.” Wyatt wasn’t under any impression that Aquino felt any less betrayed now than he had before. Just because Kian had worked his magic and gotten his hands on the brunch tickets didn’t mean Wyatt was forgiven for the ultimate betrayal: leaving Terroir behind.
“Better keep it that way,” Nico said, placing the drinks on the bar. “He’s on the warpath today.”
This was nothing new, but the extra heads-up was nice, and Wyatt was reminded of how much he’d always liked Nico.
“Thanks,” he said, throwing some bills on the bar, tipping generously and happy that now he could, after leaving Terroir and going to work for Ryan.
“I think it was Nico,” Tony said under his breath as they picked up the drinks and made their way to where Ryan and Nana were sitting in the shade. “Conner said it was some bartender at Terroir that he’d been hooking up with.”
“Nico isn’t even gay,” Wyatt protested. “I don’t know why we’re even talking about this still.”
“Because, baby bro, I don’t want to see you hurt. And you really like this guy.”
“And this guy really likes me,” Wyatt said defensively. After all, Ryan had made it clear that if he couldn’t have Wyatt, he hadn’t wanted to have anyone. As his fake boyfriend, sure, but that must mean something?
Wyatt wanted it to mean something so badly.
“Here’s your mimosa,” Wyatt said, and he knew he sounded short as he handed Ryan his glass, but Tony was reminding him that only a short while ago, they hadn’t gotten along.
“Thanks,” Ryan said, beaming up at him, making Wyatt feel guilty. “We’ve just been chatting about my new ad campaign for Adidas.”
“He says he might even be on the cover of some magazine,” Nana said, smile bright as she looked up at Wyatt. “He’s definitely cute enough.”
“And now his head is definitely not going to fit through the front door,” Wyatt teased. He hadn’t explicitly told Nana what he and Ryan were—he hadn’t wanted to lie to her, and Ryan had been surprisingly okay with that—but she’d clearly connected the dots anyway.
A man approached their group, and Wyatt tensed. Had Aquino found out he was here and sent security to boot them out? But no, the man was dressed in a pair of preppy khakis and a blue chambray button-down and had a combination of nerves and eagerness in his dark eyes.
“Ryan Flores?” the man asked, gesturing with the phone in his hand. “I was wondering if I could take a pic with you.”
This had happened to them before when they were out. Once when they were surfing, once when they were grabbing food. It wasn’t a big deal, and Ryan dealt with it like it wasn’t, giving the fan a selfie and a smile both times.
But this time, Wyatt caught a flicker of annoyance on his face before he quickly covered it.
“Sure,” he said, rising to his feet and going over to where the guy was standing, anticipating the selfie request.
“Actually,” the man hedged, “a selfie would be great, but what about a pic with your boyfriend? You guys are so cute. I follow your Insta, and my husband laughs, but I swear I can never decide if I want to be you or hire you to come cook for us.”
The hesitation on Ryan’s face was distinct this time, and he didn’t cover it up.
Wyatt told himself it didn’t matter, but it was hard to convince himself.
After all, what was so different about taking a picture here, when they took pictures together on a regular basis and posted them—just so everyone, like the man in front of them, would think exactly what he thought?
“Uh, I think he’d probably prefer his privacy today,” Ryan said awkwardly. “Selfie instead?”
They took the selfie and though the man thanked him and wished him luck in the upcoming season, Wyatt got the distinct impression that nobody had come out of that encounter happy.
Not Ryan, whose smile had dimmed considerably, not the fan, who seemed pretty disappointed, and definitely not Wyatt, who now couldn’t help but wonder why Ryan had turned him down.
Thankfully, Tony had kept Nana distracted, so Wyatt didn’t have to answer any questions right now about why that man had believed he and Ryan were together. He’d had an answer ready, but he felt a little too raw to explain anything right now.
“I’m going to go check on the seating time,” Wyatt said, and wasn’t even embarrassed it looked like he was escaping because he was.
Callie, the hostess, had a permanent smile etched on her face, but the smile deepened a little as Wyatt approached her. “Oh, Wyatt, it’s so good to see you,” she said. “We’ve missed you around here.”
“You’re a gem. Do you have any idea when the seating is going to begin? I’ve got my nana here, and she’s not great in the sun.”
“And your boyfriend too, if I hear the rumors right,” Callie said with a sly wink. “Ryan Flores, what a great catch.”
It was exactly the impression they were explicitly and implicitly trying to give, but Wyatt still felt himself shy away from the implication. “Yeah,” he said, neither confirming nor denying anything. “Any idea on the time?”
“Five minutes,” she said. “And I don’t know if anyone told you but the Bastard is on fire today. Steer clear.”
Wyatt hadn’t been too worried before because Kian had managed to get the tickets, and they were unequivocally in his name. He knew Aquino often reviewed the guest list himself, so if there’d been an issue, Wyatt had always expected Kian to call him and cancel the tickets.
But now, he wasn’t sure. Not when the Bastard was in apparently a very bad mood.
When he returned to the waiting trio, there was unexpectedly two others that had joined their party.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan said, not sounding very sorry at all, “but I’m not taking pictures today.”
Wyatt’s heart clenched. How many times had they been out and Ryan had agreed to pictures? At least half a dozen times. He’d never denied fans before, not when Wyatt was present, and suddenly Wyatt couldn’t help but wonder if this had something to do with him?
Was Ryan avoiding a situation like the request he’d denied earlier? Wyatt wasn’t sure he could feel worse, and yet his stomach kept falling. But he plastered a smile on his face and sank to the bench next to Nana.
“Only a few minutes to go,” Wyatt promised, reaching over and holding her hand. “You’re going to love it.”
“It’s a beautiful place,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “But then I’d never expect anything else from you. You’ve only ever kept your eye on the biggest prize, determined to win it.” Her gaze strayed over to Ryan, and Wyatt had a feeling he knew what she was really referring to.