Then Came You Read online

  sulk,” he told her. “And you’re the one barely talking to me. Even after you lied and said you wanted me to move out.”

  “I get why you want your own place,” she said, ignoring this. “We cramp your style.”

  “You cramp his style,” Zoe broke in. “I’m not the one who told Emily he wet the bed until he was twelve.”

  “Five,” Wyatt said through his teeth. “Only until I was five.”

  Darcy was lying flat on her back in the grass that was turning brown for winter, staring up at the sky. He nudged her foot with his.

  She nudged back.

  That she even could was a miracle, and he crouched at her side. “I’ll be only three minutes down the road,” he said.

  “Maybe that’s not far enough.”

  There hadn’t been much to smile at this week, but he smiled now. “You’re going to miss me. That’s why you’re being such a shithead.”

  “I’m going to miss the lobster ravioli.”

  “That’s not what I’m going to miss,” Zoe said.

  They both looked at her.

  “I miss you being happy,” she said to Wyatt.

  His smile faded. When he’d first come back to Sunshine, he’d let the familiarity, the sense of community, fill him. He belonged here, and it felt right. That rightness had only grown as he’d worked at Belle Haven. Settled into friends and a routine. Hell, even living with his sisters had given him a sense of belonging.

  And then Emily had come, and she’d been like icing on the cake. The very best part.

  They’d fit. With her, everything else in his life had gotten better.

  “Sucks,” Darcy said. “Falling in love.”

  Yeah. Sucked hard. He hadn’t wanted Emily to leave. He’d been unnerved by the magnitude of what he’d grown to feel for her, but it was nowhere near the magnitude of how he felt about her leaving.

  And yet he’d let her go. He’d let her go with nothing but a damn note.

  “You should’ve told her you didn’t want her to go,” Darcy said.

  “AJ has a big mouth.”

  “And you’re a complete dumbass if you really let her go without a word.”

  “Don’t.” He shook his head. They’d been over this. In great detail, at high decibel volumes, several nights this week already. “We’ve had this fight. We were dragged around all our lives,” he said. “I’m not going to tell her—”

  “Oh my God!” Darcy burst out, and tossed up her hands. “Get over it already!”

  “Just call her,” Zoe said.

  “Or take the pussy route,” Darcy said. “And write her a stupid note on a stupid napkin.”

  Wyatt scrubbed his hands over his face. “Not my finest moment,” he admitted.

  Which didn’t matter, since Emily hadn’t responded to the note in any way. Not even when their L.A. intern had left after three days because of horse allergies.

  Or, as the staff had rumored, due to Sunshine’s lack of Thai takeout.

  “At least call her,” Zoe said.

  It was nothing he hadn’t told himself every single moment of every single day all week. “I’m already packed,” he said. “I leave in the morning.”

  Zoe blinked, and then grinned.

  Darcy whooped and gave him a kick that would have knocked the feet out from beneath him, knocking him to his ass, if the sweetest sight he’d ever witnessed hadn’t suddenly appeared.

  Emily’s piece of shit pulling into the driveway.

  He was sitting up and straightening his glasses as Emily parked. The car was bug-ridden and covered in dust. She tumbled out, not looking much better. She had a left-side-only sunburn. Her hair looked like she’d stuck her finger in an electrical outlet, and he wasn’t sure what the mysterious stains were on her clothes. Not to mention she smelled like the inside of a 7-Eleven, but she’d never been more beautiful to him. Five cans of Red Bull fell to the sidewalk before she shut the door.

  Zoe gasped at the sight of her. “Were you mugged?”

  Emily stopped short and looked down at herself. “Despite what it looks like, no.”

  Darcy grinned. “It’s called two days of driving.”

  “Yeah. And I didn’t have the route mapped so I nearly ended up in Canada by accident when I was practicing what I was going to say instead of concentrating on the drive.”

  “A speech!” Darcy said, and kicked Wyatt again. “She has a speech! Let’s hear it!”

  Wyatt gave her a long look and gestured with his chin to the house.

  “Oh no,” she said. “You’ve been brooding for days, you’re not going to make us leave now.”

  “You’ve been brooding?” Emily asked him softly.

  “Zoe,” Wyatt said.

  “Yeah, on it.” Zoe grabbed Darcy and pulled her up. “We’re going to give them privacy. I realize you don’t know the meaning of the word, but—”

  “Fine! Just hang on one second.” Darcy pointed at Emily. “I know he screwed up, but he is screwed up. Don’t you screw him up even worse, got me?”

  Jesus. Wyatt opened the front door and shoved both his sisters inside before slamming the door. He turned back to Emily, heart pounding uncomfortably hard. “Hey.”

  She came close. “Hey,” she whispered back.

  He had to touch—had to—and yanked her into him. “God, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  “You should probably know that I’m punch-drunk tired,” she said muffled into his chest, her hands fisted at the back of his shirt. “Which isn’t the same as being plain out drunk, of course.” She shoved free and gave him a long look. “Because if it was, I’d be writing what I want to say to you on a friggin’ bar napkin!”

  “Is that why you’re yelling at me?” he asked.

  “No, I’m yelling because I’ve had five Red Bulls!” She stopped, drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m yelling because you were careful to keep your feelings to yourself. I had to guess, Wyatt. Hell, I’m still guessing.”

  He opened his mouth, but she poked him hard in the chest with a finger. “You showed me with your body, and okay, you showed me with your actions all damn day long, every day, but you were stingy with the words. And I needed the words!”

  “I know,” he said. “I—”

  “Who leaves a note under the driver’s seat? Tell me that. Who does that?”

  “It didn’t start out beneath your seat,” he said. “I set it against the gearshift. It must have slipped to the floor.”

  “I repeat,” she said. “Who leaves a note”—she pulled it from her pocket and waved it under his nose—“telling a woman he wants her to stay?”

  “Yeah, okay, it was a really stupid idea,” he admitted. “But it made perfect sense to a drunk man.”

  “Oh good,” she said, nodding. “You were drunk. I was afraid you’d paid a third grader to write it for you.” She went hands on hips. “Let me make sure I have this straight. When I was here, falling for you, hard, you didn’t say a word. When I was here, thinking that I’d finally found the first something really good in my life—” Her voice broke, which sliced at his heart as she poked him again, in case he hadn’t figured out that it was him that was the something good in her life.

  He caught her hand and pulled her in again, holding tight. “Emily,” he said softly.

  “Did you know?” she asked. “Did you know how I felt?”

  “I knew you cared for me. I knew you wanted to be with me.”

  When she tried to pull away, he held her still and met her stormy gaze. “I didn’t want to crowd you. I didn’t want to make a decision for you, or worse, dictate your plans. My hope had been that if you wanted more, you’d say so.”

  “I wanted you to ask,” she said softly. “Or better yet, tell me. I wanted to hear you say it.”

  “I know,” he said with real regret. “I want to make that up to you. What I don’t want is to lose you.” He tightened his grip on her, and when she did the same, he felt the knot in his chest loosen. He sank