Page 78 of How to Say I Do
“I didn’t believe it when I heard the gossip. Nah, I said.Mybrother would have told me ’bout something like this.Surely.”
Liam was looking down on me, ferocious rage carved all over his expression. It was the kind of glower that would start a gun battle in an Old West saloon, and something so hard and harsh that I couldn’t meet his gaze. I looked away, turned my head down. The rest of the café had fallen eerily quiet.
Wyatt’s chair legs scraped across the wooden floor. He put himself between me and his brother. “Liam—”
“Wyatt,” Liam snapped. He wasn’t speaking loudly. No one but Wyatt and I could hear him.
“Walk away.”
“Him?” Liam dragged his glare away from me and turned toward the center-of-the-sun blaze that was his brother. “After what he—”
“Walk away,” Wyatt growled. “Right now.”
Liam hesitated, looking from Wyatt to me and then back to his brother. “This conversation ain’t over,” he hissed. Then he turned on his heel and strode out, tipping his hat to Connie and ruffling the hair of a boy who looked young enough to be a friend of Jason’s.
Wyatt watched him leave with a brokenhearted slant to his shoulders. When he sat back down, he couldn’t meet my gaze.
Frank wandered over a few minutes later with half a pecan pie and a carton of ice cream. He pulled up a chair and made himself at home, talking fast and slow at the same time about the volunteer fire department and their upcoming hunting trip, and would Wyatt be joining them, and would I?
We found our way back to what we’d been earlier, laughing with Frank, and then with Dean and Richard, who came to join us for a slice of pie. Wyatt took my hand on top of the table again. We both squeezed, like we were trying to say something to each other by touch.
It mattered that we reached for each other, and that the men of the town came to cheer Wyatt up after Liam stormed out, and that they were giving me all the right signs that I was still wanted, and welcome.
Still, Liam’s blunt fury stuck with me. I hadn’t even considered whether Liam knew I was around. Shouldn’t I have asked? Wyatt’s world revolved around his family, and I hadn’t asked where they were? Shame, my old and faithful friend, bubbled inside my veins.
Wyatt and I didn’t talk about Liam on the drive home. We should have, but maybe we were falling into our old patterns, where the things we needed to say were too huge to bring into existence, and so we stayed in our stubborn silences and watched everything crumble.
Outside Wyatt’s truck, corrugated darkness closed in. I’d never realized how alone Wyatt was, way, way out in the far-flung world. The miles seemed to be endless, like the drive back would never end.
Halfway home, Wyatt took my hand and kissed my fingers.
Liam was waiting for us at the ranch.
We saw his truck lights when we made the turn through the tunnel of oaks. His headlights were on, lighting up the front yard, and he was sitting in his driver’s seat and tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel.
Wyatt pulled up at his usual spot and cut the engine. “Go on inside, Noël,” he said softly. “I gotta talk to him.”
I crept out of the truck and jogged up the front porch, then slipped inside like a shadow. Wyatt followed more slowly, taking his time. Liam didn’t climb out of his truck until I shut the front door behind me.
I should have kept out of it. What right did I have to meddle in Wyatt and Liam’s business, especially when I had already caused so much pain? Hadn’t I done enough damage? I should have climbed those stairs and put my headphones on and left them to it. I should have, but I didn’t, because halfway up the stairs, when I reached the turn at the landing, I heard Liam’s irate shout and two pairs of boots slamming on the steps. My knees buckled; I sank to the steps, and I watched them square off beneath the porch light through the leaded windows on the front door.
“What the hell are you doing, Wyatt?” Liam roared. “After how he hurt you?”
“Liam—”
“He sure walked into this place like he’s comfortable here. Hebeenhere long? You got something you want to tell me?”
“Just—”
Liam wasn’t letting Wyatt get a word in. “Breaking your heart wasn’t good enough for him just the one time, he came on back to do it again? Shoot, Wyatt, how can you evenlookat him—”
“I look at him just fine,” Wyatt snapped. “You don’t have to, ’cause Noël isn’t here to see you. He’s here for me.”
That was exactly the wrong thing to say to Liam. I’d only known Liam for a handful of days, and I even knew how that was going to go over. Sure enough—
Liam exploded. “He ripped yourfuckingheart out, Wyatt! He got you all spun up and twisted around, and he never, notonce, had any intention of lovin’ you back! It was all a fucking game to him! All of it, all of us!”
Mr. Noël, come watch me surf! Nice hickey, bro. Wyatt thinks you’re something special—
