Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter
Forty-Five
“I cannot believe you got me into this,” I whispered to Jemma once I had Livy set up at the kitchen table with a snack of apple slices and string cheese.
Wyatt sat at the table with my niece, chatting about dinosaurs.
“I’m giving you a helping hand,” Jemma said.
“More like pushing me off a bridge,” I grumbled.
“Now you’re being overdramatic. This could be exactly what you need to get over Wyatt.”
“It had better work.”
I made a mad dash for my bedroom and ensured that I shut the door securely.
I did not need any more underwear incidents of any kind happening in my life.
After sweeping my hair into a ponytail, I swapped out my pink sweater for a long-sleeved black T-shirt and the same black hoodie I’d worn when sneaking into Hoffman’s apartment.
Hopefully that would make me less visible when spying on my ex from Wyatt’s car.
When I emerged from my bedroom, Wyatt was standing near the door while Jemma helped Livy into her coat.
“Auntie Em,” my niece said, “Jemma’s taking me to the mall, and then we’re going out for dinner and ice cream.”
“That sounds amazing, sweetie.” I kissed the top of her head. “Have fun.”
While Livy did up the zipper on her jacket, I mouthed, Thank you, to Jemma.
She gave me a quick hug, whispering in my ear, “Good luck.”
When the door shut behind them, I hurried into the kitchen and opened the fridge door. “Shoot.” Nothing in there tickled my fancy.
“What’s wrong?” Wyatt asked.
Oh, let me list the things, I thought. Number one: the seriously hot man in my living room who I need to somehow forget about.
Number two: a police detective who possibly suspects me of murder.
Number three: family drama that could lead to me losing guardianship of my precious niece.
Oh, and number four: I can’t find a freaking job!
Out loud, I simply said, “How can we have a stakeout without decent snacks?”
“Why don’t we hit a convenience store on the way?” Wyatt suggested.
I heard the siren call of chocolate in the distance.
“Good plan.” I slammed the fridge shut and grabbed my phone off the end of the kitchen counter. “I think I’m ready to go.”
It wasn’t until the elevator doors closed on us that I realized we should have taken the stairs.
Even though Wyatt stood several inches away from me, I felt like he was taking up the entire elevator, and all the oxygen inside of it.
It wasn’t that he was hogging the space; it was more like his presence filled every corner and wrapped around me.
If the stakeout didn’t expose any disgusting habits of his, I was in big, big trouble.
To keep myself from fidgeting, I checked my phone and noticed a new text message.
From my mom.
I’ve contacted a lawyer about transferring Livy’s guardianship.
My stomach lurched.
The elevator floor tilted beneath my feet.
Hurt and anger and panic rumbled inside of me. I was a volcano of emotion, ready to erupt. Then grief punched me in the gut so swiftly and with such force that I gasped, and my phone fell from my hand, clattering to the floor.
“Emersyn?” Wyatt’s voice seemed to come from far away, even though I could have reached out and touched him.
I tried to hold it back, but a sob broke free, one that seemed to come from the depths of my soul, wrenching its way out of me. I missed my brother so much in that moment that I thought the pain might split me in two.
I sank to my knees, trying to grab my phone from the floor, but tears blurred my vision, and I came up empty.
“Emersyn? What’s wrong?” Wyatt put an arm around me and helped me to my feet.
He pressed my phone into my hand, and I clutched the device to my chest.
I was vaguely aware of the elevator doors opening, but Wyatt didn’t make a move to disembark, and I couldn’t. I didn’t think I could even move my feet.
The tears were coming fast and furious now, with sob after sob racking my body. “I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I’m so sorry.”
Wyatt kept a hand on my elbow, as if afraid I might fall to the floor again. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? I’m really worried, Emersyn.”
The elevator doors closed. I leaned against the back wall and slid down until I was sitting on the floor. I wiped my sleeve across my face, but my vision remained blurred.
“I miss my brother, Ethan,” I managed to say as my sobs lost some of their ferocity. My voice sounded as raw as my insides felt. “He died of cancer last year.”
And I’m trying so hard to take care of Livy, but I can’t get my life together, I added, only in my head.
Maybe my mom was right. Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a parent. But I didn’t want to lose Livy from my daily life, and I’d promised Ethan I’d take care of her. That I’d raise her. It was a literal deathbed promise. What kind of sister would I be if I broke it?
I drew up my knees and hid my face in my hands. I heard rather than saw Wyatt sit down next to me. I felt his presence close beside me, steady and soothing.
He rested a hand on my back, sending comforting warmth seeping through my hoodie. The gentle pressure of his hand acted like an anchor, tethering me enough to allow me to breathe less raggedly.
“I’m so sorry, Emersyn,” he said, his voice resonating with compassion. “That’s got to be devastating.”
More tears trickled out of my eyes as I raised my head. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to fall apart in front of you. It just hit me so hard out of the blue.”
His thumb moved in comforting circles on my back. “You have nothing to apologize for. Grief is like that. You think you’re doing fine, and then it sucker punches you.”
I looked at him through bleary eyes. There was an undercurrent to his words and a shadow in his eyes that told me he spoke from experience.
I woke up my phone and passed it to him. “My mom doesn’t think I’m fit to raise Livy. And maybe she’s right. I’d be letting my brother down if I didn’t take good care of his daughter like I promised, but maybe I’m also letting him down by keeping Livy from a better life with my parents.”
Wyatt read the text message and gently placed my phone back in my hand. “I didn’t realize that Livy lived with you full-time.”
“I’m her legal guardian. It’s what Ethan wanted. Partly because Livy and I have always been close, but also because my dad had a heart attack three years ago. Ethan wanted him to have a stress-free retirement. Livy’s an easy kid to look after, but…”
“Parenting is still a lot?”
I nodded. “So I’ve learned. But I wouldn’t trade it, not for anything. Except maybe for Livy’s well-being. I want what’s best for her, and what’s best for my dad’s health. But I don’t know what’s truly best anymore.”
“I know we just met recently,” Wyatt said, his voice so kind that my soul ached at the sound, “but Livy looks like she’s as happy and as healthy as she could be in her circumstances. You’re doing great, Emersyn.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “I don’t even have a job. Not a real one.”
“That’s a temporary situation. One you can change. One you will change.”
“I’ve tried.” The bleakness behind my words was an echo of what resonated inside of me.
Wyatt rested a hand on my arm. “Keep trying.”
I nodded and fought off a fresh onslaught of tears.
I had to keep trying. For Ethan and for Livy.
I sniffled and wiped the tears off my cheeks.
I’d finally stopped crying, but my eyelids felt puffy, and an immense weariness spread through my body.
Embarrassment rode along with the wave of exhaustion.
Wyatt was the last person I wanted to see me at my worst, but he had a front row seat, and I had nowhere to hide.
I stood up, trying to ignore the aching of my heart. Somehow, I had to keep going, like I’d been doing since Ethan died.
“Is it all right if I give you a hug?” Wyatt asked as he stood up too.
Tears blurred my eyes again as I nodded. In that moment, I needed a hug even more than I needed to forget the gorgeous man standing before me.
He stepped closer and wrapped his strong arms around me in the gentlest way.
I leaned against him, resting my head below his collarbone, listening to the steady beat of his heart and letting myself soak in the comfort he was offering.
It was like I’d finally found shelter after battling through a fierce storm.
I relaxed against his strong frame, letting myself simply exist in the moment, with no worries about what I might have to face in the future.
The embrace was so different from the one we’d shared in the dumbwaiter shaft. Yet, somehow, it was no less intimate, no less profound. I felt safe in his arms, protected. He exuded a warmth that was more than just body heat, more than just our crazy chemistry.
I didn’t want to let go.
And that was dangerous.
I gathered up what little shreds of strength I could find and stepped back out of his embrace. “Thank you,” I said with genuine gratitude. “I’m all right now.”
He searched my face, as if he were trying to make sure that I really was okay. His eyes were so full of compassion that my throat constricted and my eyes burned, but I was determined not to cry anymore that day.
“I totally get it if you want to call off the stakeout,” I said, trying to give him an out.
“If I do?” He seemed surprised by my words. “I understand if you’re not feeling up to it now, but I’m game.”
“I just cried in front of you, broke down in front of you. You’re supposed to run away.” In my experience, that’s what most men would want to do.
“I’m not running anywhere, Emersyn,” he said, never breaking eye contact. “Especially not when you need a friend.”
I tucked my hands up inside the sleeves of my hoodie. “Are we friends?” I didn’t mean for the question to come out sounding so tentative and vulnerable.
“I’d like to think so. New friends and business partners with lots of potential.”
The words lots of potential woke up the butterflies in my chest.
I chose the safest way to respond.
“Associates. Not partners. It’s my agency, remember?”
A flicker of a grin made a fleeting appearance on his face. “My name’s on the card.”
“How many times are you going to remind me of that?”
This time his grin stayed a little longer. “As many times as it takes.”
With a trembling finger, I punched the button to open the elevator doors. I was like a ball of electric emotions, bouncing all over the place and on the verge of short-circuiting. Stepping into the lobby, getting more space, brought me a sliver of relief, but I craved fresh air.
I made it three steps before Wyatt put a hand on my arm to stop me.
“Emersyn? I still want to do the stakeout, but if you need to cancel or postpone, I totally understand.”
Part of me wanted to crawl into bed and disappear under a pile of blankets, but I also dreaded the thought of returning to my empty apartment and waiting all on my own until Jemma returned with Livy.
“No,” I said, making up my mind. “I need the distraction. And…” I felt like I was about to take a dangerous step off a cliff. “And the company.”
His gaze seemed to reach for my soul when he said, “You’ve got it.”