Then Came You Read online

  Feeling defensive, and for good reason, as she was truly a crappy liar, she went hands on hips, too. “Why are you out here looking for me anyway? You were very busy a few minutes ago.”

  “So you did see her.”

  Fine. The jig was up. “Hard not to, since she was attached to your lips.”

  “Shit.” Wyatt stared down at his boots for a long moment. Hard to tell if he was fighting the urge to strangle her or walk away. Then he met her gaze again. “I wasn’t expecting her.”

  “As you don’t expect much, this doesn’t surprise me.”

  Wyatt shoved a hand through his hair, a very unusual “tell” from a man who was usually so comfortable in his own skin in every single situation that came along that she’d never really seen him so much as slightly rattled before. “I’m guessing she wants to start up again,” she said.

  He nodded, and it happened again, that stab right through her heart. “She missed you,” she guessed.

  “Yes.”

  “Not surprising,” she managed, sounding oddly normal for a woman who could no longer feel her bones. “Seeing as when she broke up with you, it wasn’t because she didn’t love you anymore, but because she was going off to live a dream of hers and help people.”

  He said nothing to this.

  “Why is she here?” Emily asked. “I thought she was in Africa or somewhere.”

  This got her a small lip twitch. “Haiti. And she accepted a fellowship at a hospital in Coeur d’Alene, working with a group of surgeons she admires.”

  Coeur d’Alene. Less than an hour away. “So . . . I guess congratulations.”

  He stalked past her to the fence. Leaning on it, he stroked Blue’s face, shoving the horse back when she tried to frisk him. “Knock it off,” he said, and she knew he was talking to her, not the horse. She stiffened and stared at his broad shoulders. “Excuse me?”

  “You think she dumped me.”

  “Didn’t she?”

  “And in thinking that, do you really then also think I’d go back to the woman who walked away from me?”

  She opened her mouth, and then shut it again as she stared at his back. She didn’t know what she thought. He was so deceptively chill most of the time that she’d forgotten one important thing. He was strong, tough, and actually, pretty damn alpha.

  He turned to face her, his eyes glittering with a dark emotion that she realized was temper, however rare. “I broke things off with her, Emily. I’m the one who sent her away, the one who said we were over. I knew she wanted to take the job, and I knew I didn’t want a long distance relationship. I also knew that she wasn’t ever going to be the right woman for me, regardless of my feelings for her at the time.” A muscle jumped in his jaw as he stared at her. “And yeah, I had feelings for her. I loved her.”

  “Past tense,” Emily whispered, feeling the teeniest flicker of hope deep inside.

  “Past tense,” he agreed. “I’ll always care for her, about her, but she’s not the one.” He never took his eyes from hers, which made it all the harder to hear when he said, “I thought maybe I’d met the one for me, but I was wrong.”

  The tentative hope shriveled, replaced by dread. “What does that mean?”

  “You got something you want to tell me?” he asked, voice even, face blank, like he was asking about the weather.

  “Uh . . .” Her heart started to pound. “Yeah.”

  He leaned against the fence, all ears and bad ’tude.

  “I won you in the auction by cheating.”

  He blinked. “You . . . what? How did you—” He shook his head. “Jesus, never mind. The internship, Emily. I’m talking about the internship. You’re leaving. When the hell were you going to tell me?”

  “Oh.” Dread turned to fear. “That’s not as easy to explain as the auction thing.”

  “Yes, it is,” he said. “It’s a sentence. Hell, Emily, it’s two words: I’m. Leaving.”

  She shouldn’t have been surprised at how angry he sounded, but she was. Still, she was more surprised at her own anger. “You know how much I wanted that internship,” she reminded him. “It’s in L.A., near home for me. It’ll lead into a job that pays a lot more money than anywhere else. I’ve planned for that job, I—”

  “Christ, are we back to your plan? Seriously?”

  “Yes, and dammit, you know why. You know I don’t want to be like my dad, barely getting by. Not getting by. I want money in the bank, Wyatt, a house I can pay for. I want to be okay, for once I want that. I need that. It’s not so different from your dream, you know. You gave up a relationship to stay here and build your home.”

  “And us?” he asked with his characteristic bluntness. “Did we not factor at all?”

  “I wasn’t sure there was an us.”

  His eyes merely darkened, his mouth going more grim.

  “It was a difficult decision,” she said softly.

  “Doesn’t sound like it was difficult at all.”

  “I told myself I couldn’t pin my future on a crush,” she said, and paused, waiting for a response. A bread crumb. Anything.

  But got nothing.

  “We both know this started out as just a fun thing,” she said as calmly as she could. Not easy when she was so close to tears that she didn’t dare blink. “Not a forever thing. How am I supposed to throw away everything I thought I wanted on a fun thing?”

  “So you’re what, going back to a job in a fancy zip code?” he asked. “And then what, Emily? You find your John? Is that the dream? Really?”

  “I have to take care of my dad,” she said. “Before he ends up in a cardboard box with eighteen dogs.”

  “Your dad’s fine. Your dad’s happy. Happier than you.”

  The barb hit hard. So hard she actually staggered back a step and put a hand to her chest, which didn’t assuage the ache. “Why should I stay?” she asked. “Give me one reason.”

  He stared at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw as her heart shriveled a little bit inside.

  “I hope this is what will make you happy, Emily,” he finally said quietly. “You deserve to be happy.”

  And then he was gone, vanished into the dark night.

  Twenty-seven

  Emily sat straight up with a start and looked at the clock.

  She had no idea what had woken her. Beside her, Woodrow stirred and raised his head.

  “Stay,” she said, sliding out of bed. “I’m just going for some water.”

  He didn’t stay. He hopped down off the bed and sat at her feet, looking up at her.

  She sighed. “Okay, you can come. But you have to be very quiet.”

  She moved down the hall and peered into Sara’s room.

  Empty.

  Figured. Even her sister, more of a city woman than Emily could ever hope to be, had found a nightlife here in Sunshine.

  The night was warm, and they’d left a window open. As she pulled a glass from the cupboard, a long, thin howl of pain came through the screen, making all the hair on her body stand up.

  Another dog, she was certain.

  She was equally certain that she couldn’t ignore it any more than she’d been able to with Woodrow. She ran to her room and threw on clothes.

  “I know you’re gonna hate this,” she said to Woodrow, “but you’re staying. There’s another dog out there in trouble.”

  She ran to her car, following the cry that tugged at every heart string she owned. Three minutes later, she slammed on the brakes when her headlights caught the dark huddled form on the side of the road near where she’d found Woodrow. “No,” she whispered, running out of the car, heart in her throat. “Oh, no.”

  It was another dog, this one much more injured than Woodrow. It hadn’t been hit by a car, but in a vicious fight, and was bleeding from so many deep wounds she didn’t know where to start. She flew back to her car, grabbed a blanket from the backseat, and carefully scooped up the dog, who whimpered in pain.

  “I know,” she whispered, heart in her throat