I shouldn’t have come.
I’ve interrupted his family time.
Fuck, I’m an idiot.
Justine slid her arms beneath John’s and carefully cradled the baby into her arms. “I’ll take over.”
He nodded, “Give me a couple of minutes.”
“What? Afraid I’ll let papa burn the turkey like he did last year?”
John shook his head with that half-hearted smile and quickly walked up the few steps of his patio to Wyatt, who was frozen in place.
“Let’s go inside,” John said quietly.
Wyatt noticed the tension in his shoulders and nodded, following him back inside the house and closing the heavy slider door behind him, butterflies swirling in his stomach. John walked into the kitchen and glanced over his shoulder at the party outside, seeming to make sure no one followed them.
“What are you doing here?” John asked in a clipped tone, and Wyatt knew John was having a serious moment, but he couldn’t take him seriously with that plastic tiara still in his hair.
He set the bottle of wine down with the rest of the food spread out on the kitchen island, placed his helmet on the floor and strode up to John, whose throat bobbed the closer he got, eyes narrowing.
“You’ve got…” He reached and plucked the tiara from his hair, placing it on the kitchen island.
John snorted a slight laugh, rubbing a hand through his hair and tousling it.
Unable to stop himself, Wyatt stepped a little closer, invading his space.
John wore a sexy beige cashmere sweater that sculpted the contours of his body, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, paired with navy blue jeans and black designer boots with a hint of beige to match. His beard was a bit overgrown, though, and his hair unkempt. He had the same bags under his eyes as Samuels, and he vaguely wondered how hard the last week he had missed was.
“Steph came by,” Wyatt admitted, wanting to touch him but resisting. “Told me some things…”
“Shit,” John scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell them about...”
Us.
John cleared his throat roughly, “I was drunk. Not an excuse, I know. I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”
Wyatt wouldn’t reveal that he was thrilled he had told his friends about them. It was one of the reasons he was there. ButwhatJohn had told them, he still didn’t fully know. He had also intended to come over and seduce him, intentionally dressing in the same all-black outfit from the commercial and debating on wearing the cowboy hat too, because John seemed to like it so much.
John seemed to realize this and glanced heatedly over his body. He tried to step back, but Wyatt followed, wanting to stay close.
“Steph mentioned you’re leaving?” John said gruffly.
“Yeah, gonna head home for a bit.”
John’s averted gaze swept to his, stiffening.
“Apparently, all it took was a near-death experience for me to finally realize that I need to go home, say my goodbyes.” Wyatt, deciding to be honest, said softly, “And you. Everything that you told me about your brother made me realize that I want one more moment with my dad. Even if he doesn’t.”
Emotion passed over John’s face, but before he could decipher it, he turned his back on him, busily checking on something covered in tin foil on the stovetop. “When are you leaving?”
“Flight leaves tomorrow morning.”
John’s gaze snapped to his, and he saw it—the emotion swirling, on the brink of losing control. He hoped, prayed to the gods in the universe, that it would result in one of those crushing, soul-searing kisses John was so fucking good at.
“Why are you here, then?” John asked, his tone curt.
“I think you know why.”
