Page 207 of Altius
“I think this is the most I’ve ever seen of a city where I’ve competed,” Wyatt said as we began our second pass. “Makes you wonder what else we missed out on.”
I nodded in agreement.
However, my gaze drifted east, toward the tall, modern building that I paradoxically recognized but could barely remember—the hospital where I was treated following my accident.
Wyatt noticed, his voice softening. “Do you remember being here…after?”
“Not really. Just that my room looked toward Mount Royal.”
“You’re in a better place, though—aren’t you? Doing the job you always wanted, about to move in with a couple of lovestruck idiots… Things are good, right?”
“Yes. Better than I ever thought they’d be.” Looking down at the frozen expanse of ice beneath us, I couldn’t help but sigh. “And yet, I can’t help being greedy. Maybe it’s my omega nature coming back to the forefront, but I really thought I had a shot at the Garroway Forest job.”
As we neared the peak, Wyatt reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.
“Here. It’s not much, but uh… Consider it a Valentine’s Day gift.” He coughed, then mumbled, “From me and Cal.NotOwen.”
Equally intrigued and amused by his behavior, I unfolded the paper, revealing line after line of names and contact information. Half of them were in Wyatt’s chicken scratch and the other in Cal’s blocky script. I recognized more than one name, as well as the institutions behind them, including the head of the national omega gymnastics association.
At the very bottom of the page, there was a single line of Owen’s spidery cursive.
Come work for me already. Redwing is where you belong.
I stared at the page, too stunned to say anything.
My lack of reaction caused Wyatt to tense up.
“I hope you don’t mind, but we put out some feelers with our contacts. Just because Northport and Garroway Forest can’t see how much you’re worth, doesn’t mean everyone’s as stupid as they are. Do you know how many of those people begged me for your phone number?”
Throwing my arms around him, I caught Wyatt by complete surprise. He jumped, causing my lips to graze his chin rather than his mouth.
“Thank you,” I said, sinking my fingers into his hair, angling his head for a proper, prolonged kiss.
“Don’t thank me,” Wyatt murmured. “You deserve an amazing job, Morgan. If this helps you, even a little bit, I’d make a thousand more calls.”
“But your job—”
“It’s nice, but I can always get another one.” Resting our foreheads together, Wyatt looked deep into my eyes and said, “I will follow you anywhere, Morgan.Anywhere. If you want to start a sports clinic at the South Pole, I’ll build it with my bare hands. Or if—”
Silencing him with a quick kiss, I shook my head. “No moreifs. I like things the way they are, where they are—in Northport, with you by my side. As for this list…”
Pressing the paper to my chest, I buried my face in Wyatt’s neck and kissed his sweat-tinged skin, allowing a trace of boxwood to spread across my tongue.
“I can’t thank you enough—but I have a few naughty ideas about where to start.”
Forty-Nine
Morgan
If Wyatt got to have his dream date during the day, I was going to play out my many years’ worth of sexual fantasies at night.
“Give me a five-minute head start?” I asked as we trudged into the lobby, knocking snow off our boots.
Wyatt gave me a searching gaze, even hotter than the flames flickering in the fireplace behind him—then obediently took our shopping bags and sat in the nearest armchair.
No questions asked. Zero hesitation. Just pure trust bundled up in a parka.
Absolutely irresistible.
