“Sometimes, I wonder if any of this is worth it.” My eyes pan to my girl, smile bright and curls just as wild as her personality.I watch as she shoves a flower under Benji’s nose, giggling when he playfully sniffs at it. I can’t help the small laugh that escapes at the sight of them. “But moments like this…” I glance sideways at Wyatt, “reminds me it is.”
A look of understanding passes between us. I’m not sure how we got here, but Wyatt just… knew. He knew how to make me feel better after a shit day. I can’t remember the last time someone thought to bring me to a place simply because they thought I’d think it was beautiful. Or the simplicity of being outside. I don’t know what this means when I’m supposed to distance myself from him. His gaze is too intense, too intimate, and I have to force myself to tear my eyes away. “So, thank you.”
He waves a hand at me in dismissal. I nudge him with my shoulder, “You know, you’re not as tough and scary as you look, Conway.”
Wyatt huffs a laugh, leaning back to rest on his palms. It causes the distance between us to close. And I swear I see his head dip just the slightest, as if he’s trying to lean in closer. All thoughts evaporate, and I wonder if this is what blacking out feels like. His low timbre invokes a fluttery sensation low in my stomach. “Guess that makes two of us, doesn’t it?”
My lips part, heartbeat banging against my ribs. And before I can stop it, my hand closes the space between us. I let my fingertip trail across his jawline. His jaw flexes beneath my thumb, and when his blue eyes land on mine, he leans–
SPLASH!
Wyatt and I jump apart, whipping our heads toward the noise just in time to find Benji breaking the surface of the pond. The black lab wastes zero time in doggy paddling after the water birds. Wyatt groans, falling back onto his elbows. A laugh rips from my chest as Brinley yells, “Duck!”
Chapter Seventeen
WYATT
My little brother isfinallygoing to marry Blake. I knew, from the moment I saw them interact as kids, that this day would come. There’s no mistaking the way Wesley looks at Blake like she hung the moon, and vice versa. After everything the two have been through, they deserve this kind of win.
But wedding day means it’s been a little over a week since we heard the news about what caused the fire at Bell’s Coffee Shop. Which means it’s been a week of Whitney growing more distant and falling into a shell of herself. I hate that I have zero clue how to help her. How to make her smile the way she did when Maggie ran free for the first time.
I want to kiss her again. Damn, do I want to. Ineedto. That breathy little moan she made when I tugged on her hair has been on replay in my head every second of every day. She tastes like vanilla and smells like cinnamon, and I want to drown in it.
I hate that I want her so badly when all she wants ispractice.
It’s bullshit. I’ve been questioning if I’m strong enough to even go through with this marriage fiasco. Because wanting Whitney is one thing, buthavingher? Putting a ring on her finger and giving hermylast name? I don’t know if I’ll survive it. Not if it’s all just a sham.
I blink the image of diamonds and inky black hair from my vision as my brother finishes up his private talk with our dad. Wesley’s eyes are slightly red around the edges, and it makes that familiar pressure stir beneath my ribs—the one that always screamsprotect, protect, protect,when it comes to my little brother.
His one request this morning was to visit our father’s grave before he ties the knot with Blake. I can’t blame him. And I’ll always join him.
Some days are easier than others. Some days I want to reminisce and appreciate the time I had with him, because all moments in life, the good and even the bad, are precious. Other days, I want to slam an entire bottle of whiskey and revel in the burn as it goes down in hopes of forgetting that I miss him.
I blamed myself for his death when I was younger. Some days, I still do. We had gotten into a fight the night of his heart attack, right before he went to bed. A small part of me will always wonder if I was the reason his stress was pushed over the edge. That’s why occasionally, it’s too hard to look at Wesley for too long. To even look at myself in the mirror.
I had no choice but to be strong for my mom and brother. It’s what my father would have wanted. So as always, I push my feelings aside, and focus on them. Anything I say this morning, he would have already heard from my frequent visits here. So, I just drop to one knee, plant a kiss on his headstone, and say only loud enough for us to hear, “I’ve got him, Pops. Don’t worry.”
“You looklike you might pass out, brother.” My teasing tone makes Wesley roll his eyes, straightening his bowtie for thehundredth time. I smack his hands down. “Relax. It’s just Blake.”
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” he admits. He goes to run a hand through his hair next, but Haden, who’s leaning against the mirror in the groom suite, makes a tutting noise. “Don’t touch your hair either.”
“God, how much longer do I have to wait?” Wesley mumbles, pacing back and forth. He stops and lifts one of his arms. “I think I’m starting to sweat all my deodorant off.”
“You’re starting to sound like a chick, man.” Haden’s smirk mirrors mine. I don’t think either of us have ever seen Wesley act like this. “Just breathe.”
I sigh, looking up at the ceiling. Slapping a hand on my brother’s back I mutter, “I’ll go check on the girls, see how they’re moving along.”
“Thanks.” Wesley mumbles.
I raise my voice slightly as I turn to the door leading out into the hall. “And donotlet Haden convince you to take another shot. I don’t need Blake kicking all our asses for you getting drunk before the after party.”
I’m pretty sure I catch Haden shooting Wesley a wink in the mirror when I glance over my shoulder. We’re at some venue a good twenty minutes out of town. Not too big, but large enough to fit half of Clover-Hills in one building. I make it a couple doors down when the chatter of multiple voices picks up. I rap my knuckles gently against the wooden door, only reaching for the handle when I hear someone chirp, “Come in!”
I peek my head into the room and see a couple of girls milling around drinking champagne.
“Weet!” A familiar girly shriek reaches my ears before a tiny boulder is latching onto my legs. I’m pretty sure Brinley means to say Wyatt, but it makes me smile, nonetheless. Her white flower girl dress has tiny flowers all over, with a large whitebow in the back, and she’s wearing a flower crown with various shades of white, green, and pink. It’s positively adorable. I pick her up, tuck her into my side and give her stomach a little tickle. “Hey, little bear. You look so pretty.”
My eyes slowly track to Whitney’s, her presence never unnoticed when I’m in the room. “Just like your mama.”
