“Hey,” he says, then looks through the open back door of the truck.
“Hey,” I reply, but my attention has already moved away from him and to Brody, shelving something on the truck. He’s who comes to mind when I think of ones that won’t help themselves. “Hey, Brody.”
The tallest man on the crew looks over his shoulder at me, gives me a nod, and then goes back to what he was doing. The way he moves his arm tells me he’s not over his last major bail at Slab, a dangerous surfing spot in town. It’s him who I always try to get on the table first, before a call can interrupt anything.
Sessions with the guys aren’t long because of the calls, but it’sa chance to see my friends when I’m not at work. Even if I’m still working.
“How’s the shoulder doing?” I ask Brody, but as I do, I glance at Luke who, despite dealing with gear on the truck, is still giving me a grin that says he’s up to no good.
The big man finishes and turns to me. “Better after your last visit. Thanks for that.”
“Good,” I nod, my attention coming back to dark-haired Brody. “You up for a session today? I could start with you.”
“Was hoping for it, actually.”
His honesty surprises me. Brody has never been one to jump at the chance to work on his injuries, but I quickly hide the shock with a smile and nod. Whatever relief I provided the last time must have been significant if he’s this willing.
The table strap on my shoulder is getting too heavy, so I ease it off and let the table rest down on the ground. It’s packed in a large carrying case, but it isn’t comfortable for more than a few minutes.
“Great. How long do you need?”
“Bryn Fucking Myers!” a voice yells from behind me, and I twist around, the table balancing against my hip, just in time to get grabbed into a hug by Liam. “Knew I saw you there!”
The air wheezes out of me at the unexpected contact, Liam pinning my arms to my sides. I swear my feet nearly leave the ground with how tight he’s holding me, and I awkwardly pat him on the back while trying not to think about the strap from my sheet bag digging into my other shoulder.
“Hi, Liam,” I croak. “I feel like you missed me or something.”
“Actually, I think you’re missing something,” he croons, and my stomach drops a few inches as he releases me and steps back enough I can see his face. His smirk. One that looks rather similar to Luke’s. “About six-one, ripped with muscle, cowboy hat. Soundlike something you misplaced?”
Fuck.
I figured the guys would find out given that three of the girls are married or dating these guys and Quinn is… well, Quinn, of course they’d know. I’m not sure any of them know how to keep a secret from their significant others.
Not that Wyatt was a secret. But Quinn obviously shared whatever she learned this morning with them, if Liam’s face is any indication.
“You’re in luck because I found him.”
“I thought Quinn found him.”
He shakes his head, smirk getting bigger. “Nope.”
“It’s true, I was there. Liam found him—” Luke starts.
Nate interrupts. “—and then he found us.”
My head is on a swivel, my attention ping ponging between the three of them. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re here?”
Butterflies erupt in my stomach at the sound of his voice, rich and full, a sense of ease immediately coming over me even while my insides flutter. I turn towards it, and standing at the front of the fire truck, having just rounded the corner, is Wyatt. Looking completely different than he did the other night.
Gone is the cowboy hat. Instead, curly light brown locks of hair sit atop his head, while the sides are cropped closer, not leaving any curls sitting there. The cowboy boots have been replaced with boots fit for a firefighter. As have the clothes. He’s dressed in a blue Santa Rosé Fire t-shirt that clings to his broad shoulders and muscular chest, and blue pants that are looser than his jeans the other night, but I’m positive fit his ass almost as well. Not that I can see from my vantage point. His ass was just really nice. Wyatt is not the type of man to miss glute day.
“What the hell?” I ask, dumbfounded, blinking rapidly, positive my eyes are deceiving me.
There’s no way he’s here. No way he’s dressed like a freaking firefighter. No way heisa firefighter. And there’s absolutely zero chance he’s a firefighter in my friends’ house.
“I’m pretty sure that’s the face I made when I walked in and saw Quinn and Hailey this morning,” he replies, a grin spreading across his lips. It’s the same one from the other night. The one that painted him as someone full of life.
