36. Wyatt
CHAPTER 36
WYATT
C am’s confident about how Stella’s date will go, but I can’t quite get there.
He and I are both spending the evening in the garage, where he’s working out on the weight bench and I’m cleaning out a tool chest. What I’m actually doing is traveling through the land of worst-case scenarios.
First of all, I don’t trust the guy she’s out with. He may keep current on child support payments, but that’s most likely due to court orders. It doesn’t mean he has good intentions, and it definitely doesn’t mean he wants what’s best for Stella.
In the darkest corners of my mind, the asshole is currently strong-arming her into doing something she doesn’t want to do. Or maybe he’s playing a pity card, or using her concern for her daughter as a tool of persuasion.
When I’m not worrying about what that jerk might be up to, I imagine that it’s Stella who decides all on her own that she’s better off with a stable, if underwhelming man, rather than two guys who make their living transmitting shirtless pictures of themselves across the interwebs.
One night out with her respectable yet boring “ex” will convince her that Cam and I could never be the right choice for her and her daughter.
“He’d better not be blowing smoke up her ass and making more false promises.” Cam’s out-of-the-blue comment jolts me from my ruminations.
“Yeah …” I finish rearranging the wrench drawer with more force than necessary. “Do you think Stella is uncomfortable with the type of work we do?”
“I don’t know, but I know she wants to be with us.”
“And what about the fact that there are two of us? Might be fine for going out on dates, but maybe she can’t picture herself settling down with two men.”
Cam’s only response is a grunt as he does a curl. A few minutes later, he groans as he sets down a heavy weight with a thud. He sounds tortured when he says, “I’ve never felt so protective about a woman before.”
“Yeah, me either.”
“I like it, though.”
I slide the last drawer of the chest closed, wondering what I can do next to keep busy. “Me too, but I’ll like it a lot more when she’s back from her dinner.”
“When do you think she’ll be in touch?”
The idea of her not contacting us tonight makes me want to jump out of my skin. If she doesn’t get in touch, I’ll be left imagining her doing things with her date. Maybe they’ll start reminiscing about college and one thing will lead to another.
The sound of rapid footsteps approaching saves me from my dreadful imagination.
Stella’s coming up our driveway in a skirt and blouse, with a purse over her shoulder. As she approaches, I scan her body to see if she looks harmed in any way. After that, I do a second check to see if she’s disheveled, the way she is after we kiss her.
She appears to be fine, except for being breathless.