Chapter 20 Wyatt #4
"It’s not about the gravy boats, it’s about making things easy for your guests!
" Zane shot back, completely unfazed as he gestured dramatically with his sandwich.
"People want to celebrate you guys. Marcus works in a high-end gallery, he's used to beautifully curated spaces.
If you let me help you guys pick a handful of local charities or artisan funds for a donation page, it gives everyone a quick option instead of leaving them guessing. "
"He's right about the blenders, Vic," Hudson broke in from the side, his expression completely flat as he broke a piece off his sandwich.
"But keep Zane away from the registry. If you let him touch it, he'll turn a simple donation button into a mandatory RSVP confirmation form with three separate follow-up reminder emails. "
Lennon burst out laughing, leaning over her bowl to point her spoon at Zane.
"Oh, absolutely. Zane would definitely set up an automated system that texts your family every single week until they pick a charity link.
Leave the poor man alone, Zane, and let Marcus handle the details.
He's the only one with actual design sense anyway. "
Zane groaned dramatically, slumping back into his chair and taking a massive bite of his sandwich as the table broke out into quiet chuckles, while Vic finally took his bite of soup with a victorious, amused grunt.
Wyatt kept his focus entirely on Bitsy, his eyes tracking the way she dipped her sandwich into the red soup.
Seeing the tight knot in her shoulders completely ease up while she laughed at the fast-paced chatter around her made a hard, heavy layer of his own tension dissolve.
She was adjusting beautifully, totally unfazed by the typical lunchroom chaos, and just seeing her smile so easily at something Lennon whispered confirmed everything he already knew.
She was safe, she was settling into their routine, and she was exactly where she belonged.
Once the plates were cleared and the trash was disposed of, the team shifted back into their professional mindsets. "Back to the grind," Silas noted, guiding Lennon back toward her office.
Wyatt and Bitsy returned to their private space, the afternoon passing in a smooth, incredibly productive blur of data analysis.
Wyatt watched the complete focus on her face as her fingers flew across the keys, tracking the steady rhythm of her posture as she isolated system anomalies.
She didn't pause, didn't hesitate, completely locked into the interface in a way that made a rare, genuine smile touch his lips.
Her efficiency was undeniable, and by the time they finalized the core security scrub, they were running a full hour ahead of schedule.
By the time the final diagnostic run finished, the afternoon light had shifted, casting long, amber shadows across the office floor.
Bitsy sat back, her shoulders finally dropping from their rigid, work-focused hunch.
She looked over at Wyatt, her eyes bright with the quiet satisfaction of a job well done.
"All sectors are green," she said, her voice steady and clear. "I've optimized the firewalls on the western end, and everything is running perfectly."
Wyatt didn't immediately look at his own screen. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on her, letting the silence in the room be filled with his quiet, growing pride. He had been a man defined by rigid control and solitary burdens for a long time, but watching her blossom under his direction—seeing the way she was finally learning to trust that he would handle the rest—was a shift he hadn’t fully anticipated.
"Good work, little girl," he said, his voice dropping into that low, resonant frequency that always seemed to make her focus narrow entirely on him. "You exceeded my expectations. You’re done for the day."
He moved behind her chair, his large hands resting firmly on her shoulders.
The contact was grounding, a silent reminder to her—and to himself—that she didn't have to carry the final details of the day.
She leaned back slightly into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut as she surrendered the last of her tension.
Seeing her drop those defenses was the most rewarding part of his day.
"Go get your coat," he murmured, his thumb brushing against the nape of her neck. "We have a quick stop to make for those snacks we talked about, and then I’m getting you home where it’s warm."
She stood up, moving with a grace that spoke of her growing comfort in his presence. She grabbed her coat, but before she could put it on, she turned back to him, her expression soft and unguarded.
"Thank you, sir," she said, the words simple and entirely sincere.
Wyatt didn't say a word. He simply reached out, his hand cupping her cheek, and pressed a firm, possessive kiss to her forehead.
The gesture was both a promise and a seal—a vow that no matter how chaotic the world outside the office doors became, she would always have this sanctuary, and she would always have him.
"You did well, Bitsy," he whispered against her skin, his voice thick with the quiet intensity of a man who had finally found exactly what he was meant to protect. "Let's get out of here."
He took her hand, his palm warm and calloused against hers, and led her out of the office.
As they walked through the quiet, softly lit corridors of Enigma toward the exit, Wyatt felt a profound sense of satisfaction.
Watching her walk beside him, he noted how her posture had lost that defensive, rigid edge; she wasn't looking back at the computers or the data that had defined her previous life.
For years, he had operated under the belief that his life was complete as it was—a well-oiled machine of duty and isolation.
But seeing her trust his lead, feeling the way she leaned into his side as if he were the only solid thing in her world, proved him wrong.
He had been a man defined by solitary burdens, but the weight he felt now wasn't a chore—it was purpose.
The world outside remained biting and cold, but as he felt her steady presence against him, he knew the chill wouldn't reach her.
She was finally where she belonged: under his protection, and exactly where he needed her to be.