Chapter 26
Bryn
My heart is pounding harder than the waves crashing against the cliffs on the other side of the road as I ride my bike up the driveway. Wyatt’s truck is sitting there. Emptier than the black hole in my chest that’s settled in since I broke up with him.
There are two things wrong with this scenario. First, he’s here. At my house, unannounced, and not invited. Second, he’s nowhere to be found, which doesn’t bode well for me since I know Gran is home.
She texted me before I left work and asked if I’d pick up Moon Pies.
It’s not out of the ordinary. Ever since Grandpa passed, she asks me to get them whenever she’s missing him.
They were his favorite. I was expecting to come home and find her sitting in the backyard, looking at his beloved garden that definitely needs more TLC than either of us are giving it, but instead I hear laughter coming from the kitchen as I go through the gate.
Wyatt must have come here to see me, and Gran found him instead. Maybe he didn’t text or call first because he knew I wouldn’t answer. Or at least suspected it.
With my stomach nosediving to my feet, I leave my bike just past the door leading to the kitchen and put the kickstand down, taking my helmet off a second later.
Shaking my hair out and running my fingers through it, I smooth my hands over the white tank top I changed into after work, willing my nerves to settle.
It’s just Wyatt.
Stopping at the door to listen, though, I realize it’s not only Wyatt that has me nervous. It’s the two of them together. Or maybe it’s Gran and all her comments and nudges to let Wyatt back into my life as more than friends.
The main door is wide open with only the storm door between me and the mudroom that leads to the kitchen. I can hear Gran’s delighted squeal of excitement.
What the hell is going on?
Pulling the door open, I jump a step backward with a gasp. The door drops sideways an inch, like it’s barely hanging on. Blinking furiously at it, I look up and realize there’s something wrong with the top hinge.
My eyes narrow. There was nothing wrong with it this morning.
It still seems to open, so I let myself inside just as Gran comes into view at the entrance of the mudroom. Her face lights up when she sees me.
“Bryn! Sweetheart. How was your day?”
I ignore her. “What happened to the door?”
The woman doesn’t skip a beat. “Oh, you know that thing, been wobbly for ages.” She gestures at me to come further inside. “Did you get the Moon Pies?”
“You asked her to get Moon Pies?” Wyatt’s voice comes from the kitchen, and there’s no faking the surprise. “Ruby, I didn’t know you were going to do that when we talked about it.”
Her text came over forty-five minutes ago, which means he’s been here for at least that long. Longer if they had a whole conversation about Moon Pies. And why does it sound like he’s the one that wanted them and not her?
“You did ask, dear boy,” she says, looking to her left into the kitchen. I still haven’t moved an inch from just inside the door, and her attention swings back to me as I hear a muttered ‘Jesus’ from inside. “Did you get them?”
“Of course I got them.”
Gran’s face brightens further. The innocence she portrays could win her an Oscar. “Oh good. Wyatt and I discovered we share a love for them. Did you know that? His dad used to sneak them to him and his brothers in the barn growing up before dinner.”
A pang of nostalgia hits me square in the chest. Grandpa used to do that with me in the backyard. Gran would get so mad when she was looking for a snack only to discover the stash had been raided.
Wyatt steps into view beside Gran and smiles guiltily at me, lifting his cowboy hat from his head, his tan t-shirt stretching across his muscular chest, biceps flexing and filling out the sleeves.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize she was going to ask you to pick some up. We were just having a conversation.”
God, he looks good.
My heart races just from him standing there. In my grandmother’s house.
“Bryn?” Gran questions when I’m silent.
Silently staring. Damn it. My cheeks flush, and I shake my head, forcing a smile onto my face.
“It’s fine. I don’t mind. Gran and I love them too.”
Pulling my backpack off, I move forward, darting around the two of them and into the kitchen where I freeze as I take in the island. A toolbox sits on top, a few different things laid out. There’s a box with what appears to be a new chandelier sitting on the counter too.
“What is happening?” I ask.
“Wyatt fixed the drawer in the island,” Gran explains, waving a hand towards the tools on the granite. “He was just about to look at the new light I got for my bedroom.”
Whipping my head towards her, I stare incredulously. “New light? Gran, the light in there isn’t—”
“I don’t like it, it doesn’t cast the right light when I’m getting ready,” she cuts me off before I can finish. The light in there isn’t that old. She replaced it after Grandpa passed. Funny how this is the first time she’s mentioning it. “Mildred and I picked this one out.”
My eyes flick to Wyatt, still standing near the entrance to the mudroom. He’s biting back a smirk, but I can see it there. The mirth in those stupid, pretty eyes of his.
“Why were you here in the first place?” I ask him, eyes narrowed.
“Well, I—”
“I hired him,” Gran interrupts before Wyatt can form a full sentence. “He’s my new handyman.”
A sputtering laugh leaves my lips. “Excuse me?”
“Fine, he can be our new handyman. I guess I’ll share him.”
The audacity of this woman. This is not happening.
Wyatt interjects before I throttle her. “Ruby, I didn’t agree to anything except fixing the drawer.”
“You stay out of this,” Gran shoots at him.
“Gran!” I drop my backpack to the ground.
“Bryn.”
Jaw grinding, lips in a tight line, I glare at her. The worst part about this is she looks cool as a cucumber. Like she knows she’s going to get her way, no matter what I say. Or what Wyatt decides. And it’s because she thinks she knows what’s best.
“Wyatt is not the new handyman,” I tell her through clenched teeth.
Wyatt takes a step forward. “Yeah, Ruby, if Bryn isn’t comfortable with this, then I’m not either.”
Gran doesn’t even glance in his direction. Her eyes are locked on mine. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why don’t you want him helping around here?” The fire in her eyes, the one where all her sass comes from, sparks brightly. Taunting me. It’s not often we get into a challenge like this. “Why is it such a big deal?”
My nostrils flare and I clamp my mouth tightly. There’s no way I can answer that out loud.
Because I like Wyatt.
Because I want to fall for him, but I can’t take care of you and be with him.
Because if he were around, I’d fall in love with him. And that scares the shit out of me. I saw the hell you went through after losing Grandpa and I can’t do that.
I don’t need to answer. Gran sees the truth written on my face.
She nods while I shake my head. There’s a reality in which I could win this battle, but it would cost me my truths out loud, and I’m not willing to reveal those.
She would see through anything else, and though Wyatt hasn’t known me long, I’ve always had that sense that he can see the truth and lies in me as well.
Turning to face him, I gesture towards the back door. “Can I talk to you in private? Outside?”
Gran scoffs, but we both ignore her. Wyatt nods, sweeping out a hand in front of him for me to go first.
When we get into the yard, I lead him down the side of the house to the back, where it opens into the gardens.
There’s a fountain in the middle of the yard, one that no longer works.
The hedges are a mess, the garden overrun by a multitude of flowers and plants.
Gran had started everything, but since her fall hasn’t done much out here.
There’s a lot that needs to be done. The only thing we’ve kept up with is the mowing of the grass, and that’s only because a kid down the street does it.
“B, I won’t do it. When she came by yesterday—”
“To the station?” I whirl around to face him, eyes wide. His hat is back on his head, and it’s a battle of wills not to let my annoyance slip. “She didn’t.”
Wyatt’s mouth opens and then closes, realizing he’s ratted her out. Releasing a deep breath, he finally nods. “She came to ask if I’d work around here for her. Knew about old Betty and thought I was handy enough to help. I figured you didn’t know much about it.”
“Nothing. I knew nothing. You being here was a complete blindside.” I throw my hands up in the air and let out a frustrated huff. “I thought she asked me to get her Moon Pies because she was missing my grandpa. Not because you also ate them growing up.”
“Back when my dad wasn’t such a dick and we were a lot younger, yeah,” Wyatt says with a wistful smile, his eyes losing their focus on me for a second.
“Had a lot of laughs around Moon Pies. Dad would hide them around the barn when we were doing chores, and once one of us found one and realized, it was a race to find the others.”
It softens me. Thinking about a younger Wyatt with all his brother’s racing through the barn looking for Moon Pies.
I’d bet if I had siblings, my grandpa would have done the same.
It does make me curious about Wyatt’s dad, though.
From everything I knew, he didn’t sound like the kind of guy who would have fun with his kids.
I open my mouth to ask, then clamp it shut, dropping my eyes to the ground. No, this is not supposed to be me learning more things about Wyatt. We’re done.
Proof that my reasoning for not wanting Wyatt to do this should stand.
“B, I’ll tell her to find someone else,” Wyatt says gently, and with my head angled to the ground, I see his boots come a step closer.
Within reach of touching me now. It has my stomach swooping, and I itch to press a hand there, but I know it would give me away. He knows how to read me. He’s doing it right now.
“The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable,” he adds.