In good news, they can see he’s fully clothed.
In bad news, his hard-on is on full display.
“Oh my god, Brynleigh, what have you done? What is this? Who is this—is that—is that—does he have an erection?” my mom cries out, each word shriller than the last. Then she screams for my dad, “Grant!”
“Give it a rest, Lillian,” Gran says, and I can hear the eyeroll in her tone. “Haven’t you ever seen a boner before?”
From the amount of pain Wyatt is in when I finally disentangle myself and pop up on the couch, I think the erection problem is solved. He’s groaning, his hands clutching his nose which thankfully doesn’t appear to be bleeding.
Ignoring my mom, I grab his face, watching him wince. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know,” he grunts, eyes watering. “But just so you know, that was the opposite of don’t move.”
It’s not funny. Really, it’s not. But I can’t help a laugh that borders on hysteria.
“Who is this?” my mom shrieks. “What is he doing here? Why are you on the couch with him? Sleeping with him! You’re hopeless! Brynleigh, look at me!”
I do, but only so I can glower at her, not allowing the words to mean anything. Not giving them any power over me. “Shut up!Get out. When we’ve had a fucking second to wake up, we’ll see you in the kitchen.”
“What’s going on in here?” my dad says, coming in from the kitchen.
At the same time, Gran grabs my mom’s arm, “Lillian, let’s get a cup of coffee.”
But my mom doesn’t look away from me. Her lips are parted in a snarl I’ve only seen a handful of times in my life. It makes her look vicious, like some kind of depraved animal ready to claw me. There’s only been one other time in my life that I’ve fought back, and it ended with me coming to live here.
“What did you just say to me?” my mom seethes.
Pushing up from the floor, I stand tall and take Wyatt’s hand, my eyes narrowing on my mother.
“Did I stutter?” I ask, free hand clenched at my side. “I said shut up and get out.”
Mouth gaping, eyes bulging, she looks ready to tear my hair out. “How dare you!”
“Okay, Lillian, that’s enough. In the kitchen, before I ask Wyatt to remove you completely,” Gran says. When my mother turns her scowl on Gran, the latter shrugs. “He’s got muscle, he’s under my employ, and I love my granddaughter a lot more than you.”
“Mom,” my dad sputters.
Gran holds up a hand to stop him. “Enough. I’ve watched both of you do enough damage over her lifetime; I won’t watch another second. Either get in the kitchen or get out of my house.”
My mom’s eyes drift away from Gran, moving towards me, but then they catch on Wyatt. The moment it clicks in her mind, her mouth falls open and she jerks back, ripping her arm from Gran’s hand.
“You!” The accusation is in the word. Like he’s done her something vile. “From the hospital.”
Now Wyatt gets to his feet, lifting a hand in greeting. “Hello, ma’am. Fine day to be less savage, isn’t it?”
It takes all my willpower not to turn and look at him like he’s got three freaking heads. Was now really a good time to bring that up?
Outraged disbelief is the best way to describe my mother as she gawks at the man in front of her before turning back to me. In a hushed, angry yell that I’m sure she thinks he can’t hear, but clearly can, she says, “He’s blue collar.”
Letting go of his hand, I point to the crest on his chest for the fire department. “And a firefighter.”
“You’re shacking up with a firefighter?” The screeching is back, shrill enough that I cringe.
“He’s also my handyman,” Gran pipes up, and when I meet her eyes for a brief moment, I see a hint of mischief there. She knows damn well that’ll rile my mom up further.
I’ve never seen my mother turn so red she looks purple. It should be concerning, but I’m fascinated by the color. Besides, if she were to keel over, there’s a firefighter in her presence who can show her firsthand how great they are to have around.
Bringing my hand up to my face, I tap my chin in contemplation as I eye Gran. “Should we tell her that you bid on Wyatt at the auction last night and won a date with him?”
