38. Wyatt
Chapter 38
Wyatt
T he whiskey is cold, but it doesn’t do a damn thing to fill the void. I stare at the glass, willing it to make me forget, at least until I have to drive back up to the cabin.
Alone. Without Ivy.
I consider drowning my feelings in more than just whiskey. It wouldn’t be hard to find a willing girl. I’ve never had any trouble before. But the idea falls flat. It’s not what I want. I want her. My girl. Our girl. And the babies she’s carrying.
The bar is crowded, full of people who don’t have a clue what it’s like to have everything and nothing all at once. I take a long drink and contemplate just grabbing the bottle from behind the bar, wishing it was enough to take the edge off. It isn’t. Not by a long shot. The cabin is going to feel like a tomb without her there.
I close my eyes, willing away the images my brain immediately conjures. It’s not the way she looked pinned between us. No. It’s the way she laughed, the way she seemed so damn happy. She was letting her guard down, letting us in. It was perfect. She was perfect.
And then Hank fucking ruined it. But…we let him.
Now I’m sitting here like a lovesick idiot, wishing she could see how much I care. How much we both care. I set the glass down a little too hard, and the amber liquid sloshes over the side. A waste of good alcohol. If it were actually helping, I might be more upset about that.
I just let her walk into Mason’s. Why didn’t I follow her? Tell her how I feel?
She was so sure she was doing the right thing, leaving us. Leaving me. I know she’s scared. I’m scared, too. I’m terrified I’ll never get another chance to show her how much she means to me. It feels like a punch to the gut, sitting here without her. I take another sip, hoping it’ll numb the ache.
The door slams open, and Holt strides in with a look that could burn a hole through steel. He spots me and makes a beeline for the stool beside me. He signals Jack behind the bar and snags the beer from him on the way.
“We need to talk,” he says, cracking the bottle open. “I’m not giving up on her.”
I look at him, and it’s like staring at myself in a mirror. “You think I am?”
“I think,” Holt says, leaning in, “that she’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to us. I’m not letting her go without a fight.”
I nod, feeling the weight of his words hit me. “I hear you.”
Holt takes a swig of his beer, eyes never leaving mine. “I know who she is, Wy. Hank’s wrong. That’s not her. This is her. And I…I love her. I’m going to do whatever it takes to win her, keep her. Her and those babies.”
His words settle deep, sinking into the cracks she left behind. “You really think we can do this?” I ask. “Long-term?”
“I think we don’t have a choice.” Holt leans back against the bar, rolling the bottle between his fingers. “It’s not even about the babies. I don’t think I can live without her anymore, Wyatt. It’s her, or it’s nothing. And yeah, I’ve never done this serious relationship shit before, but I know what I want. And I want her.”
I exhale, dragging a hand through my hair. “Me too.”
Holt nods, like he knew that already. “Then we figure it out.”
There’s a beat of silence before I throw the elephant in the room out there. “And the sharing? Because we can’t say yes going in with the expectation she’ll pick one of us eventually. You’re good with it? Like, actually good with it?”
Holt doesn’t hesitate. “You and me? We’ve always been a team. This doesn’t change that. If anything, it makes us stronger.”
I huff out a laugh. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It is. Or it will be once we get her back.”
His confidence is almost enough to make me believe it’s that easy.
Almost.
“There’s still one little detail,” I say, knocking back the rest of my drink. “The babies. Either of us could be the father.”
Holt’s quiet for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he says, “They’re ours. I don’t care what the DNA says.”
The simplicity of it nearly knocks me on my ass.
I stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate. He doesn’t. Just shrugs and takes another sip.
“That’s it?” I ask. “That’s your big, life-changing conclusion?”
“Yep.”
I let that sit for a second, rolling it around in my head. They’re ours.
The tension in my chest eases, loosening just enough for me to breathe. He’s right. Blood doesn’t matter. We’re in this together.
“You in or you out?” Holt asks. “I hope you’re in, but I’m going after her with or without you.”
I want to be with her. There is no way in hell I’m walking away from this. Or them. I lean back, grinning like an idiot. “I’m in,” I say, and it feels like a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders. “Hell yeah, I’m in.”
Holt looks relieved, and he takes another long drink. “Good. Then let’s go get our girl.”
It feels good to have a plan. Better than good. I feel fucking alive. Holt’s got that same fire in his eyes, and I know we’re on the same page. It’s a risk, but it’s worth it. She’s worth it.
I’m ready to find her, tell her everything, do whatever it takes to make her see. I want my girl. Our girl. And I’m not going to stop until she knows it.
We head straight to Mason’s. The garage will be closed by now, so we bypass the building and head back toward the house. He was the last one to see Ivy, and if anyone knows where she went, it’s him.
I’m nervous as hell, but I’m ready. Ready to fight for her, even if it means making a fool of myself. Holt looks confident, but I know him too well. He’s just as nervous. We’re both staking everything on this.
“We got this,” he says, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I’m too busy trying to keep my heart from pounding out of my chest.
The closer we get to Mason’s house, the heavier my steps feel. What if she’s already gone? What if we missed her by minutes—seconds? What if we lost our chance? The thought alone makes my stomach churn.
Holt knocks on the door, but I’m two seconds from barging in if Mason doesn’t answer fast enough. He doesn’t make us wait long, though. Thank fuck. There’s a knowing look on his face as the door swings open, like he was expecting us. Before either of us can get a word out, he just steps aside and jerks his head toward the back.
“She’s out back.”
I damn near sag with relief.
She’s still here.
I don’t know how long I stand there, gripping the doorframe, but Holt nudges me forward. “C’mon,” he mutters.
We move through Mason’s toward the back door, and every second feels like an eternity. My heart’s pounding, my pulse hammering in my ears. Because now we have a new problem.
What if she doesn’t want to see us?
What if she really is leaving and it doesn’t matter what we say?
She’s on the back porch, bundled in a couple of blankets and enough winter clothes to survive an avalanche, sipping on tea. She looks so damn small, so tired, but still so fucking beautiful it hurts.
My throat tightens. But the sight of her makes me feel like I can finally breathe again.
Holt was right. This is her. Not the tabloid bullshit, not the version of her the internet thinks they know—this girl. The one who laughs with her whole body. The one who eats Oreos like they’re a delicacy, who cannot figure out that damn coffee machine no matter how many times we teach her. The one who lets us see her, really see her.
And we were about to let her walk away.
She glances up at the sound of the door creaking open, her eyes flicking between me and Holt. “Did Mason rat me out?” she asks, voice soft but edged with exhaustion.
“Didn’t have to,” Holt says. “We were gonna find you either way.”
She huffs out something that’s almost a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. She curls in on herself a little, fingers tightening around her mug. “Why?”
I step closer before I even realize I’m moving. “Because we’re not letting you go that easy.”
Her eyes flash, like she’s preparing to argue, but Holt beats her to it. “Ivy, you don’t have to go.”
She looks away, jaw tight. “I do.”
“No, you don’t,” I say, voice rough. “And if you don’t want to stay here, then we’ll go with you.”
That gets her attention. She blinks, brows furrowing. “What?”
I step closer, needing her to see how serious I am. “We’re not giving up. We’ll follow you anywhere. New York, L.A., Egypt, don’t care. You name it, we’ll go.”
Holt shrugs, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “We can be anywhere, Ivy. I can fight fires anywhere. Wyatt can be a plumber anywhere.”
“Yeah,” I say, swallowing hard. “But we can’t be without you.”
Her lips part like she wants to say something, but nothing comes out. She just stares at us, eyes shining.
I take another step forward, crouching down beside her chair so she can’t look anywhere but at me. “I know you’re scared,” I murmur. “Hell, I’m scared too. But that doesn’t mean we just run.”
Holt kneels beside me, his hand brushing against hers where it rests on her lap. “We want this, Ivy. We want you. And the babies. No matter what.”
Her breath shudders out of her. “And what if—what if you regret it?”
I shake my head. “Not a chance.”
“But, I thought?—”
“We know who you are, CG,” Holt cuts her off. “We know who you are. We love who you are, and we want you, no matter what.”
Ivy stares at us, like she’s trying to figure out if we’re real. Then she laughs, and it’s the best sound I’ve heard in days.
“We’ve never had anything serious before,” Holt adds. “And yeah, maybe we don’t know exactly what we’re doing. But we know we want to do it with you.”
She swallows, her fingers trembling around her mug. “You mean that?”
I lift her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Every word.”
For a long second, she doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. Then, slowly, she exhales, her body sagging like she’s been carrying the weight of the world and finally set it down.
I don’t know if this is a yes. But I know it’s not a no.
She shakes her head, dimples deepening. “I want you, too.”
I feel like I’m floating, like the world could end right now and I’d die a happy man. Holt whoops and pulls her into his arms.