I grabbed her hand, and we raced down the hallway as I called out, “Michael!”
Benji continued his gibberish as we rounded the corner, where I stopped dead in my tracks. Wyatt stood in the doorway wearing khaki pants and a polo that showcased the body that he worked so hard on in his garage. He was holding the project that Mikey had been working on for the past two months.
My eyes dropped to his hands. The hands that had been in very intimate places on my body in my dreams. I felt my cheeks blush and my body warm from the inside out at the memory as a shiver ran down my spine. He smiled at me and when my lips tilted up at the corners, I felt something wet on my lip. I let Alice’s hand go and wiped the edges of my mouth.
I was drooling. Actually,literallydrooling.
Great. This morning was going just great.
6
WYATT
“The road to happiness is always under construction.” ~ Gamma Mary
“You ready?” I asked when Michael answered the front door.
A wide smile filled his face. “Yep.”
He turned to pick up his project, which was a biosphere he’d made out of things from the house and backyard. Last night before I left, I’d helped him fix the damage Alice had accidentally caused. It wasn’t bad at all. I was pretty sure he was more upset about sharing a room with his little sister than he’d been about the two branches she’d caused to fall off.
“I’ll get that,” I offered. The last thing I wanted to happen was for the project to have any more casualties. Not on my watch.
As Michael handed it to me, I heard Whitney scream, “Michael!” seconds before she came barreling around the corner holding Alice’s hand and carrying Benji on her hip. Her hair was all pushed up on one side, and there was a large crease across her right cheek. She looked fucking adorable.
When she saw me, her eyes widened, and her face flushed. I smiled, and she grinned back but then lifted her hand and wiped her mouth.
After clearing her throat, she asked. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m taking Michael to school. Remember?”
Recognition dawned on her pretty features as her face split into a smile. “That’s right. Oh, and you’re up and ready. Good job, Mikey. Did you get breakfast?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled under his breath as he walked past me out the door.
I looked down at him and saw myself at his age. I remembered feeling like he did, just wanting to get away from my house because there were so many kids, two or more of which were usually fighting, and always a baby crying or pooping or spitting up. I loved my brothers and sister, but sometimes it was just a lot. It was a circus. My mom referred to it as organized chaos, which was accurate.
Since I could remember, I hadn’t done well with chaos, even at a young age,especiallyat a young age. I liked quiet and predictability. In school, math was my favorite subject because there was always a predictable outcome. It never changed. The right answer was the right answer. So being raised in an environment that was constantly unpredictable was stressful for me.
I recognized that same anxiety in Michael, except his was obviously compounded by tragedy and loss. I couldn’t imagine going through what he had at his age—losing his dad and mom. My parents were the people that always made home,homefor me. They were the people who were in my corner no matter what. They loved me unconditionally and saw me for who I was.
My mom could always sense when things were closing in on me, and she’d have my dad take me out for a day of fishing, or she’d ask me to run errands with her, just the two of us. And once I got old enough and started playing sports seriously, that became my escape. It was like therapy to me.
Michael’s attitude this morning only solidified that I should sign him up for Little League.
“Okay, well, have a good day, Mikey!” Whitney smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
I’d seen that exact smile a lot over the past six months. She was trying to be brave. She was trying to be strong for her niece and nephews. But I knew that just beneath that smile was a world of pain that she was drowning in.
I wanted to be her lifeline, which was why I needed to put all the feelings I had for her aside. What happened last night, or almost happened, couldn’t happen at all. I didn’t want her to think that my help or support was connected to my having romantic feelings for her. I didn’t ever want her to think there were strings or conditions to me being there for her and the kids.
As Michael walked to my truck, I lifted my hand in a wave goodbye. “I’ll take care of dinner tonight.”
Her eyes widened once again. “Really?”
“Yep.” I smiled and closed the door. I was scared if I stayed there one second longer, I would walk over, set down the biosphere, pull Whitney into my arms, kiss her senseless, and promise her that she wasn’t alone anymore and everything would be okay.
That’s what every primal cell in my body was screaming at me to do. But that wasn’t the lifeline she needed. She just needed some support.