Chapter 13 #2
Elias grins at me. “He told them about you, and now they’re desperate to know your life story.”
I freeze with my hands on the table, half out of my chair. “Um, maybe I can talk to them another time,” I suggest, raising my voice so Wyatt can hear me, but hopefully his family can’t.
“Quit scaring her,” Wyatt yells back. “Come on, darlin’. They just wanna say hi.”
“Hours,” Hunter says with a tone of foreboding, shaking his head as he adds onions and green peppers into the skillet. “Literal hours.” He follows his warning up with a grin and a wink, reassuring me he’s only teasing.
More curious than concerned, I walk out of the kitchen and find Wyatt sitting on the couch in the living room, holding his cell phone out in front of him.
“It’s on loudspeaker,” he whispers when he sees me, motioning me over. “Come sit.”
I take his hand, and he pulls me onto his lap.
“She’s here,” Wyatt says, raising his voice so I know he’s speaking to his family instead of at me. “Say hi and only hi. She’s hungry, and Hunter is making us a quick dinner.”
Hellos fill the room. I say hi back and hope no one will push to know more about me and my past.
“My mom wants me to bring you home,” Wyatt says to me, wrapping his left arm around my back and giving me a reassuring smile as if he knows I’m nervous.
“For some good home cooking,” an older woman says with a Southern accent. “We like our big family dinners here, and we’re all excited to meet you. I’m Leticia.”
“You’ll be lucky to get a bite from your plate and into your mouth,” an older man says before I can think up an excuse about why I can’t make it.
“We have so many littles demanding to be picked up. Six kids and I lost count of how many grandbabies we have running around this house on a Sunday.” He pauses to add. “Drew, I’m Wyatt’s dad.”
I open my mouth.
“You have not lost count of your grandbabies,” a younger-sounding woman says, sounding amused.
“I’m Sylvie, Wyatt’s oldest sister. Daddy likes to line `em up and measure them to see how much they’ve grown after family dinner.
He’s running out of wall, but he’s determined to keep it up until the kids are eighteen.
He’ll be using the neighbor’s wall before too long. ”
Wyatt rolls his eyes at me, and I swallow my smile as father and daughter bicker for the next several seconds.
“Maisie just wanted to say hi, not listen to you going at each other,” Wyatt eventually says, talking over them when they show no sign of stopping their bickering. Then he turns to tell me. “She’s the eldest, and they’re too alike.”
“We are not alike!” Two voices shouting in the same tone and with the same exact accent is hilarious.
I can’t hold back my laugh, their chuckles following my own. My tension levels decrease, and I stop counting down to the end of this phone call.
“Maisie?” Wyatt’s mom’s voice cuts through the last of our laughter, and I brace myself for the big quiz I’d walked in here dreading.
Wyatt must have told them about me. Maybe about my bruises and that I come with baggage. He wouldn’t have had time to tell them about Derek since I only just told him, but maybe they’ve heard enough already and don’t want me around their son. I can’t say I blame them.
“Yeah?” I ask hesitantly.
“Wyatt has told us a bit about you,” she says.
Every muscle in my body is taut enough to snap. “Ummm…”
“Wyatt said you had a bit of trouble, and I wanted him to put you on the phone so I could tell you myself that my son is as fierce as he is loving. He’ll take good care of you.
And he’ll bring you home for some good Louisiana cooking.
You have a seat at the table and any number of grandbabies to hold because they never stop demanding to be picked up,” she says with loving, but frustrated fondness.
My eyes burn with tears. “That sounds really nice, Mrs.—”
“Leticia,” she cuts in with a firmness that says she’s not willing to budge on it. “There are no titles around here. Just first names and big appetites.”
Wow, I could learn to love Wyatt’s family a lot.
“We’ll let you go eat now, but you come see us soon, Maisie,” Wyatt’s dad adds.
More voices call out goodbye, and a couple of kids as well, though I’m not sure they even know who they’re saying goodbye to.
Wyatt ends the call and leaves his phone on the coffee table. Then he looks at me, his expression a mix of wariness tinged with a hint of embarrassment.
“Sorry about that. They can be a lot,” he says. “There’s no such thing as quiet in the Comeaux house, or down the phone either.”
“That actually wasn’t that bad. They’re nice.”
He gives me a probing look and relaxes when he sees I mean it. “They like honesty, respect loyalty, and love hard.”
“Like you?”
“Yeah,” he softly agrees. “Like me.” His eyes slice to the door, where Knox, Hunter, and Elias are keeping their voices down, but I hear them chatting about a football game as the smell of something delicious drifts from the kitchen, making my stomach rumble. “I don’t think dinner is ready yet.”
When his eyes settle hungrily on my mouth, I get where this is going.
With a smile, I loop my arms around the back of his shoulders. “You say that as if you think we might have time to do something before we eat.”
“Hmm.” He strokes my hips with a firmness I love. “I can think of one or two ideas.”
“Like?”
He angles his head, my heart stopping and my breath hitching when he kisses me. “Like this.”
With my belly full of butterflies, I lean into his chest. “Just one kiss?”
He cradles the nape of my neck with one large, hot palm, his thumb stirring the sensitive tiny hairs there. “Darlin’, I’m not close to being done kissing you yet.”