Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
WYATT
Going out last night and getting drunk—and the semihookup with Rachel—only helped me forget my problems temporarily. I wake up the next morning with a raging headache and an equally raging hard-on, thanks to dreaming about taking that moment with Rachel in the bathroom a little further.
Fine, a lot further. Like the first time. The best time. I want a repeat performance. I think she wanted it too, until my jackass brother had to interrupt us.
My phone is blowing up with text messages, and I assume they’re from Nate because he’s an asshole who enjoys nothing more than getting under my skin, but I’m wrong. It’s my mother.
Serena will definitely cover the first night we’re gone with Dottie, but they’re going out of town that next afternoon so I texted Nate to see if he’d help out. He hasn’t answered me yet.
Then I heard a rumor that the two of you were at the Snowline last night.
I told you to go home and get some rest and instead you went out with your brother.
Not that I’m mad about it, but I’d guess you’re not even up yet because Nate isn’t either. Drunken benders aren’t going to solve your problems, Wyatt.
I drop the phone back onto the nightstand and roll over with a groan, closing my eyes. Close to thirty, and I really don’t need my mother to state the obvious. Don’t need her disappointment either, though I guess I deserve it? Fuck, I don’t know.
I’m about to drift off back to sleep when my phone actually rings.
Without looking, I reach for the phone and hit the green button, bringing it to my ear and growling, “Sorry I slept in. I’ll come pick up Dot in an hour.”
I’m about to end the call when I hear my brother’s laughter. How can he sound so cheerful? Oh, that’s right, he was the DD and didn’t drink last night.
“Bro, Mom is lighting me up this morning. First, she goes into me for taking you out and getting drunk, and even though I tried to tell her I was the sober one last night, it’s like she didn’t hear me.
Then she starts texting me about taking care of Dottie when they go on that cruise they won, and I thought you didn’t want me to watch her,” Nate rambles all in one breath.
“I think I do need you to watch her. I still have to figure it all out.” I roll over onto my back, draping my arm across my eyes. “My head is pounding.”
“You got drunk. Again.” He hesitates. “Was it worth it?”
“Not with the way I’m feeling at the moment.”
“What about your little encounter with Rachel the hottie?”
I groan. “Do not call her a hottie.”
“Why not? She is one.”
“Because I might have to kill you.” I am normally not a jealous person, but the last thing I want is to imagine my brother checking out Rachel. Just . . . no.
Nate chuckles. “Last night must’ve worked out well for you then.”
“I can’t complain.” I am still thinking about the taste of her lush mouth, so definitely no complaints.
“Did you fuck her?”
“What the hell, Nate?” I scrub my hand over my face, not about to admit that’s exactly what we did the first time around.
“Well, did you?”
“No.” Though I wish I had.
He makes a tsking noise. “How unfortunate.”
No shit. “We haven’t even gone out on an official date yet.
” Like that’s going to explain why I didn’t have sex with her.
Normally, I would tell Nate about my antics.
He knows I hook up with mostly anonymous women who don’t stick around.
They’re usually only visiting the area, the perfect guarantee that they won’t be around for long. My ideal setup.
Now I’ve met a woman who isn’t permanent, had sex with her, and keep running into her.
And I don’t mind either. Even though I know she’s not a permanent fixture here.
I shouldn’t keep doing this, keep wanting to run into her.
I have responsibilities—namely, a daughter who I need to take care of and provide for.
“Do you need to date a woman to fuck her?” He sounds like an asshole. “That’s never been the way you operate once Cheryl left.”
Wait, I’m the asshole since he’s describing me.
“No, I guess you don’t.” I haven’t gone on an official date in freaking years.
Does that make me a commitmentphobe who doesn’t know how to manage a relationship?
Most likely. I’m a little rusty, but I’m not a complete failure.
Is this even what I want—to date Rachel?
She’s not going to be around long. Will it only be a waste of our time?
“But maybe I want to take her on a date and do this . . . right.”
I swallow the sudden lump that forms in my throat.
Who am I, and what have I done with my old ways?
I haven’t wanted to “do right” by a woman in years.
After being ditched by the supposed love of my life and mother of my child, I’ve been cautious.
No one could blame me for this. As time went by, it got easier not to worry about a relationship.
I’m busy. I’ve got enough on my plate. But for whatever reason, this woman feels different. I can’t explain why; she just is.
“There is no right or wrong in the dating world, my brother. You just . . . do what you do. And see what happens.” Nate pauses. “There is an expiration date on you two, though. You do realize this.”
Unease sweeps over my skin, leaving me cold. Does he know something I don’t? “Why do you say that?”
“She’s leaving at the end of the summer. According to Paige.”
My stomach aches, like someone just sucker punched me. “I know that.”
Fuck, I sound defensive.
“Don’t get all twisted up over this woman only for her to leave you. I’d hate to see it happen again.”
My abandonment issues rise up, reminding me why attempting something more with Rachel is most likely a bad idea. “I can date a woman and know it’s not forever.”
“When you fall, Wyatt, you tend to fall hard.”
“What do you know—”
“I witnessed everything with Cheryl. All of it. I had a front-row seat to your guys’ relationship, and it was painful to watch. I bet it was even worse going through it,” Nate reminds me.
I blow out a harsh breath. “I know what I’m getting into with this one.”
“She’s cute and young and rich. Paige and I googled her last night. Have you done that? A little Google search, maybe a sweep of her social media? You learn a lot about a person when you do.”
“I was hoping for a more organic approach.”
Nate snorts disbelief. “We’re living in a modern world. Go google her. It’ll be an eye-opener for sure.”
We eventually end the call, and I do what my brother suggested, ignoring the dread coating my stomach.
I search her name first, and despite it being fairly common, there she is in the top results.
A photo of her with some slick blond—and balding—dude in a suit, accompanied by another photo with the same guy and a different blonde woman wearing a baby-blue ruffled dress and the most ridiculous hat I’ve ever seen.
Davies Leaves Heiress Rachel for Lady Cocksbury! the headline screams.
I skim the article, sympathy filling me at the very public breakup Rachel only recently endured. The guy who dumped her is an asshole, that much is obvious. And this whole thing happened only a month ago.
There are more articles about Rachel and this Edmund Davies dude.
They were in a “whirlwind romance” that “ended spectacularly” when he went back to London and resumed his relationship with a woman he’d been off and on with over the years.
A messy situation that Rachel seemed unwittingly dragged into.
I scan the photos of her with Edmund, and I can’t deny she looks happy with him.
Staring into his eyes like he’s the best thing she’s ever seen.
I assume he’s the one who love bombed her.
I don’t need to look up the definition of that term to understand what it means.
This guy came on strong, lavished her with attention and gifts and whatever else, and then ditched her the moment the real love of his life came back around.
Brutal description, but I’m guessing I’m right on the mark with it.
There are other photos of her with Scarlett Lancaster.
Tate Ramsey. Her parents—her dad looks like a prick.
Something about the scowl on his face rubs me wrong.
Or maybe there’s the fact that I know he ditched his daughter.
Who would ever do that? I assume he encouraged Rachel to be dependent on him, and then, when she does something he doesn’t like, he tells her to figure life out on her own.
Not fair. I can’t imagine doing that to Dottie.
That girl owns my entire heart, and I would never abandon her. Ever.
It’s a sensitive subject for me, thanks to Cheryl.
If Rachel and I continue what we’re doing, I’m a rebound guy for sure.
Which shouldn’t bother me. I’m not looking for anything serious.
And how serious can it get with a twenty-two-year-old?
She’s at the cusp of her adult life still, and I’m a man with a job and a house and a daughter.
We’re at completely different stages, and there is no reason why we should be drawn to each other.
Yet I am. Drawn to her. Still. That hit-it-and-quit-it mentality I normally have isn’t happening with this woman, and I don’t quite understand why.
Hauling myself out of bed, I take a shower and text my mom that I’ll come pick up Dottie soon, ignoring her scolding. She responds back with a thumbs-up, and I fix myself a quick breakfast before I make my way over there.
The moment I walk into the house, Dottie is on me, ready to leave, asking if we can go out on the boat. She loves it when I take her out, just the two of us, because she knows she’ll get an ice cream treat at Mitchell’s afterward.
Wonder if Rachel is working today.
“You don’t look as rough as I thought you might,” is how Mom greets me.
I offer her a wan smile. “It wasn’t that bad. Nate was the DD.”
“What’s a DD?” Dottie asks, always curious.
“A darling Dottie,” Mom answers for me, making my daughter laugh. “Go be a dear and pick up your toys in the living room for me before you leave, please.”
“Okay!” Dottie runs off into the living room, and Mom sends me a look. One that says she’s ready to get down to business.
“I shouldn’t have come at you in your texts this morning, but I’m a little concerned about what you’re going to do about Dot while we’re gone,” she says, her forehead creasing with worry.
“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll figure it out.” I will. Her stress over the situation, though, is bleeding over onto me, and the last thing I want is to get worked up over this. It’ll all work out. It always does. “Nate can take her for a couple of nights.”
Mom slowly shakes her head. “If you’re willing to take that risk.”
“He’s your son, Mom. You don’t think he’s capable of watching his niece?”
“Not particularly. I know my son and I know his limits. He can barely feed himself properly.” Mom makes a harrumphing noise, one that I’ve heard time and again over the years. “I’ve already told you all this. Maybe Serena can take Dottie on vacation with the rest of them.”
“Where are they going?” I can’t believe my sister hasn’t mentioned their family vacation to me. Or maybe she has, and I forgot.
Mom offers a helpless shrug. “Hawaii. Oahu, specifically.”
“Oh, right. Let me just go buy Dottie a plane ticket and send her off with them.” I shake my head. “That won’t work, and you know it. And I don’t feel right in asking Serena to be responsible for her while they’re on a family vacation.”
“What’s one more added to the mix, eh?”
I don’t want to spend the money on a plane ticket, especially last minute. And sending Dottie off that far without me for a week? I can’t stand the thought.
“I can find someone else to watch her.” I think of the offer a certain someone made me the first time we all went to the Snowline. Maybe Paige could help me out.
Maybe her friend could too.