Wyatt struggled to shift gears. Had he agreed to take his fiancée to Chile? “I’m not sure. I’m going to have to talk to my fiancée about that.” After he found a fiancée. Or he could just tell his dad the truth. But the odd feeling of not having control of the situation continued.
“When’s the wedding?”
“I’m not sure.”
“She is planning on moving here with you, correct?”
Not in this life. “I’m not sure.”
“Fine. I just want to be a part of your life, son. I want to meet this woman.” Amazingly, his dad’s voice softened. “I’m sure she’s amazing, and I want her to feel comfortable here and know that she’s welcome.”
His dad was used to getting his way. It was a handy characteristic for a resort owner. For any business owner, really. He could make things happen.
But it wasn’t so handy when one was on the receiving end.
“I’ve got this, Dad.”
“See that you do.” There was a pause. “I’ll have Sophia get the tickets—” he paused, probably while looking at a calendar, “—and plan on picking you up from the airport Friday, August twelfth. I’ll have you fly back out on Monday. Unless you want to stay?” He sounded so hopeful, Wyatt could hardly stand the pressure of the guilt in his chest.
“No. We’ll need to leave.”
His dad paused. “Okay, then. See you next month.”
“See ya.”
Wyatt let his hand drop away from his ear. He pushed the red button, then rested his whole cheek on the cool, soothing glass, allowing his body to sag.
“Wyatt?” He jerked up and spun around. Harper stood in the hall doorway. Her hair was wet, but combed. She wore a green tee shirt and a pair of cutoffs. Her feet were bare. “Was that your dad? Are you flying to Chile?”
Chapter Eight
Harper’s legs didn’t seem to be able to move. Not since the word fiancée had come out of Wyatt’s mouth. When was he going to tell her about his fiancée? Her entire chest felt empty and hollow, white. Why did it bother her so much that Wyatt had a fiancée?
Only because she hadn’t met her. And because her best friend hadn’t told her something so important. Not because she was upset that Wyatt was getting married. Not at all.
Yeah. Right.
“Um, Harper. Why don’t you sit down? There’s something I need to tell you.”
She obeyed, moving like a robot. She’d just realized she had feelings for him, and now to find out that he was engaged?
His eyes narrowed on her. “I’ll make some tea to warm you up.”
Her eyes followed him as he moved around her small kitchen. His broad shoulders filled out the plain white tee shirt. The muscles in his back rippled under it enticingly. His jeans weren’t tight, but he filled them out just right. And his bare feet somehow gave her heart palpitations. Casual in her house. Like he let his guard down for her.
Which was the actual thing. Wyatt was fun. And funny. He worked hard, but wasn’t afraid to goof off. The only person in the world who could make her laugh at any time, guaranteed. He knew her, actually knew her. And he liked her anyway. Gosh, she hadn’t realized how much she appreciated Wyatt not seeming interested in girls at all. She was happy with the way things were, and she assumed he was, too. In hindsight, she should have realized that not everyone was happy to sail smoothly through life, avoiding change.
From a young age, she had known that it was safer to stay home. Since her dad died to be exact. She’d been young, but not too young to hear the adults in her life saying that her dad should have been happy to work on the farm. That wanting to provide a bigger, better life for his family had caused him to take the road construction job where he’d been in the accident that had killed him.
Change scared her. It reminded her of the brevity of life and brought back all those feelings of fear and insecurity she’d tried to hide from her mother once she realized her daddy was never coming back. That dead meant gone. Then, of course, like any normal child, she’d become fixated on what might happen if the same thing happened to her mother. She’d spent years waking up crying.
She hated change, hated risk, hated anything that threatened to rock the solid, secure little world she’d built around herself. But Wyatt thrived on it.
She tucked her legs under herself and adjusted the blanket on her lap. Change was a part of life, she knew that. And she would face this unexpected and, frankly, unwelcomed change head on.
A clatter from the kitchen indicated a dropped spoon. Wyatt was never clumsy. And he was never slow. Obviously, he had to be dreading having this discussion with her.
Well, she’d make it easy for him. After all, their friendship was the most important thing. He had no idea that she’d started to develop feelings that went beyond that boundary, and she had no intention of telling him now. She might be losing him in some ways, but she couldn’t bear to lose her best friend.
And she would love his fiancée. She would. If necessary, she would force herself to. And she wouldn’t be jealous. She would be kind. She would treat the woman like a sister. She would be happy she caught a man as wonderful as Wyatt. She would not be upset Wyatt would be making another girl laugh, dragging someone else along on his adventures. Harper choked back a snort. Whatever girl Wyatt chose, he probably wasn’t going to have to drag her on adventures. She’d probably drag him.
She glanced at the kitchen where Wyatt stood with his head and shoulders above the short bar. He put sugar in her tea. His spoon clicked against the mug as he stirred before snapping the lid back on the sugar container.
She should have noticed him before. But she’d been too busy shoving her nose in her books, trying to keep life from changing at all. She hadn’t wanted their friendship to change. Even now, she would never open her mouth. Having him as a friend was far better than making things awkward between them or losing him completely.
He carried their tea cups over, and she smiled up at him, hoping her dismay did not show on her face.
“Are you getting warm?” he asked.
She nodded. “Thanks.”
The teacup shook a little as he set it on the coffee table, and his perpetual smile was missing. He perched on the edge of the chair across from her, setting his own cup down without drinking any. Resting his arms on his spread knees, he gripped his hands together.
A spot of nerves pinched her stomach. She had to make this easy for him.
“I heard what you said.”
“I thought maybe you did.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”
“It’s fine. I’m actually really excited.” Okay, so that wasn’t true, but she really wanted it to be. “This is great.”
Wyatt didn’t say anything. His mouth hung open and his eyes were wide. “You’re seriously okay with it?”
“Well, yeah. Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” She was not going to ruin his happiness just because of the pain that crushed her own chest. She tried to pretend her lungs didn’t feel as inflexible as tin cans.
“I just…” He ran a hand over his face, then tilted his head. “I…I thought you’d be a little more upset.”
She scrunched her face up in her best how-could-you-think-that look. “No way!” She smiled. Hugely. Her cheeks felt brittle. “We’ve always supported each other one hundred percent. I’m your backup. You can depend on me. We’ve been best friends since we met. Just because you didn’t tell me…” She shrugged like it was no big deal. Hopefully he was believing her act.
“I didn’t know.” He lifted his hands up, a look, half-happiness, half-unbelief, on his face.
She blinked. What? “You didn’t know?”
“No, not until just now.” A full-on grin stole over his face. He shook his head. “I didn’t really think you’d be okay with it.”
“How could you not know that you’re engaged?” she asked incredulously, all pretense gone.
“Because I wasn’t. Until just a few minutes ago.
”
“I thought you were talking to your dad.”
“I was.”
“And you told him you were engaged.”
His smile disappeared. “Yeah. I did.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And of course, right away, he wants to meet her.”
“Of course he does.”
“I’m so glad you understand.”
“So you haven’t asked yet?”
“You’re going to make me ask?”
He told his dad he was engaged, but he hadn’t asked the girl yet? “I think that’s only right.” Hello.
“Are you messing with me?” he asked incredulously. “That’s weird.”
“I’m not messing with you. It’s just common sense. If you want a girl to be your fiancée, you have to ask her to marry you first.”
“So, we couldn’t just pretend?” Wyatt had gone white.
“You don’t want to get married?” She tried to keep the relief out of her voice, but she was afraid she wasn’t very successful.
“I do. I really do. I just wasn’t sure how it would work.”
“Usually you get a license. Then find a preacher…”
“Shut up, Pickles.”
“Seriously Wyatt. You can’t announce an engagement to your dad before you’ve at least asked the girl.”
“I wasn’t expecting to announce it. He just backed me into a corner, giving me a guilt trip because I was here helping Uncle Fink when he wants me down there.”
She waved a hand in the air trying to show her nonchalance. “That’s fine. You just need to work it out with her.”
“I’m trying.”
“No, you’re not. Get off your butt and ask her.” There. Twenty years from now, his kids could thank her.
Wyatt stood. Part of her heart tore. She swallowed and picked up her tea cup. Wyatt must have noticed her distress, much as she tried to hide it, because he came over and knelt on one knee beside the couch.
“Harper?”
Wow. It was serious if he was using her real name.
“Yeah?”
“Would you please go to Chile with me as my fake fiancée?”
Harper’s mouth dropped. So did her tea cup. Hot liquid splattered everywhere. She yelped and jumped.
Wyatt snatched the blanket, yanking it off her to keep the tea from soaking through. Her forward momentum pushed her into his chest. Already off balance in the awkward one-knee kneeling position, her weight threw him back and to the side. He grabbed her as he fell, hoping to keep her from hitting the sharp corners of the coffee table.
They landed on the floor, tangled in a tea-soaked blanket. Harper lay half on his chest, her wet hair brushing his arm and her big gray eyes blinking in his face.
He grunted. “That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.”
She snorted. “That wasn’t the question I was expecting.”
“Holy cow, Pickles. You used to be normal. Now you’ve turned into a girl.”
“I’ve been a girl all my life, Ding Dong.”
“But you don’t act like one. I don’t have to guess what you’re thinking. I don’t have to tiptoe around you. I don’t have to put myself through contortions to right some perceived wrong I didn’t even know I committed.” He closed his eyes. Her weight pressed on his chest, in a good way. “At least I didn’t used to.”
She tweaked his nose with her finger. The scent of berries and vanilla tripped in his brain, and it was all he could do to not put his arms around her and settle her closer.
“I just didn’t understand. You have a fiancée that your dad wants to meet. But she can’t go, so you want me to fill in. Even though you know that I hate travelling and…”
“No.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Stop, Pickles. Obviously, you didn’t hear as much of my conversation as I thought you did.”
“Tell me.”
“My dad was giving me a hard time about being here with Uncle Fink instead of being down there helping him. So I lied to him. Told him I wanted to stay here to be with my fiancée.” He still couldn’t believe he’d done that. He grabbed a handful of Harper’s hair, on the pretense of moving it off his shoulder. “You should let this down more often.”
She blinked, and he mentally kicked himself. It was bad enough he was asking her to pretend to be his fiancée, he was really going to scare her away if he didn’t get a hold of himself.
“Really?”
“Sure. When it’s wet like this, it’s almost a weapon, flapping around, slapping my face. Next time your tea cup attacks you and I’m trying to save you, you should at least refrain from trying to knock me unconscious with your hair.” He pushed it aside because the desire to wrap it around his fingers and bring it to his nose was almost overwhelming.
“Maybe you should refrain from shocking me with crazy questions.”
He sighed. “I would think you’d expect it from me by now.”
“You’re right. But that one was just bizarre, even for you.”
“So you never did answer me.”
Her eyes dropped and she looked away. It was her I-don’t-want-to-do-this-and-you-can’t-make-me look.
Yeah, that was the reaction he’d been expecting. Now, he needed to try to convince her. So he piled it on. “You have my back. You’re my best friend. You support me one hundred percent.”
Harper put both fingers in her ears, resting her chest on his. “Blah, blah, blah. I can’t hear a thing.”
He circled her wrists with his hands, surprised at the delicacy of her bones. Tugging gently, he pulled her fingers out of her ears. “Grow up, Dr. Pickles.”
“You are the only person in the world who would ever say that to me.”
He lifted a brow. Her neck turned red. He grinned. He was the only person who would ever see Harper do anything like put her fingers in her ears and say blah, blah, blah. But he had to tease her. “I’m the only one who tells you the truth.”
“The only time it’s true is when I’m with you.”
“You’re stalling.”
“I know.” She bit her lip, then, to his complete shock, she laid her head on his chest. He quit breathing, although his heart beat like a runaway locomotive. “You know I’d do anything for you. But I’m scared. Chile is so far away. We’ll have to fly. There’s mountains. People die in those mountains.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “My dad didn’t need to go the whole way to Chile to die.”
He forgot to try to keep her from knowing the truth about his feelings. His hands let go of her wrists and he put one on her head, stroking her cold hair, the other on her back. Fought to keep it still.
“I’m not going to let you die, Harper.”
“I know. But you can’t control everything. The airplane could crash into another plane in the sky…”
He fought the quirking of his lips. “Has that ever happened?”
“The Titanic only sank once.”
“There are no icebergs in the sky.”
“I know. But anything could happen. We could get stranded in the Andes. Or crash in Mexico. I don’t want to leave my home, the farm.” Her head came up. “I can’t leave the farm! Sorry, I’d love to go, but I can’t leave the farm.”
“It’s for four days. A month from now. You can leave.”
There was a knock on the door.
Harper glanced up, then ducked and groaned. “I supposed it’s too late to hide?” Harper asked.
“I’m pretty sure she saw us.”
She bit her lip and shifted her body. “I’ve never seen that person before.” She scrunched even lower. “How are we going to explain what we’re doing?”
His lips kicked up. “We could tell her we’re engaged.” If they told enough people, maybe it would become true.
“That’s great. But it’s going to be awkward when we get unengaged.”
“If the plane crashes in the Andes, we won’t have to worry about it.”
“So now you’re giving me the upside of a plane crash?”
>
“Just trying to help you think positively.”
The woman knocked again.
Harper rolled off Wyatt. He ached to pull her back to him. The only thing better than sparring with Harper was touching her while he was doing it. He stood, then helped Harper untangle her legs from the blanket and pulled her up.
He met her gaze, concerned but smiling, then turned and led the short distance to the door.
It was the tuba that gave it away. Or maybe the cat.
White-blond hair framed big blue eyes that blinked as Harper opened the door. Everything about the woman was tiny and slender, but her pointy chin, tilted just slightly up, hinted at an iron will.
The woman’s chest meowed. Or rather, the little animal with a green ribbon in its hair meowed from its position inside the carrier strapped to the woman’s front. A big, black tuba case sat at her feet. It was about a quarter of the height of the woman. How did she carry it? Or play it?
Harper held her hand out. “You have to be Avery.”
“Quite correct,” the woman said pleasantly.
“I’m Harper, and this is your distant cousin, Wyatt.”
Harper bit back a smile when Wyatt took the tiny hand with two fingers and shook it like it was a china vase.
Avery looked around. “There didn’t seem to be anyone at the house, so is this where I stay?”
“We’ll set you up with a room at the house.”
Wyatt reached for the tuba. The woman beat him to it.
“Sorry. I don’t let anyone touch the tuba. I even buy a seat for it when I fly.” She patted her little cat’s head and picked the tuba up as though it were a child’s lunch box. “I’m a vegetarian and I don’t do gluten, dairy, or night shades.”
Harper stared at Avery.
“I just wanted to get that out there,” she said with a friendly smile that softened her words. “Sometimes people get offended when I don’t eat bread or tomatoes. Although it’s the carnivores that get the most upset.”
Better Together Page 7