Give and Take

by Lee Kilraine

  “Wait, what?” Eli said.

  “Keep up, Eli,” Gray said. “Things are moving fast around here.”

  Beck sat back in his chair, a huge grin sliding on his face. “Just curious, Wyatt. Why now? Why have you been putting up with us moving your stuff for five years, and now you’re finally putting your foot down?”

  “Because I used to think I owed you guys. So, I put up with it. Now that you’ve set me straight, I’m done.”

  “All I can say is, it’s about damn time.” Beck held his hand out. “Pay up.”

  “Gladly,” Ash said, slapping a twenty in Beck’s palm. “Happy to lose this one.”

  “Yep,” Eli said, passing his money down the line over to Gray.

  “Absolutely.” Gray added his twenty, along with Eli’s, to Beck’s hand with a genuine smile.

  “You guys are jerks,” Wyatt said, but he looked around at his brothers with such love it took my breath away.

  Beck snapped his fingers. “Oh, Wyatt, I forgot, now that you’ll be focusing more on your woodworking, are you okay if we reach out to your mentor, Dave Malcom?”

  I watched Wyatt nod, but his dark blue eyes were focused hard on me, and mine were on him. My breath was caught somewhere in my windpipe so long I went light-headed.

  “I’m sorry. I must have missed something. What are you doing, Wyatt?” I actually had heard, but I couldn’t believe it. Also, I wanted to hear Wyatt say it.

  “Someone recently pointed out to me that woodworking feeds my soul. Upon reflection, I decided they’re right. And I’ve watched that person take risk after risk, and sometimes she succeeds and sometimes she fails. But when she fails, she gets right back up and tries again. So, I decided if she could do it—if you could do that, Rhia—then so could I.”

  “Wyatt Thorne, I want to crawl right over this table and kiss the stuffing out of you.”

  “I’ll meet you halfway.”

  “Whoa, stop,” Ash said. “At least fucking pretend to go do inventory in the closet, for crying out loud.”

  “What do you mean pretend?” Eli asked. “Wait a minute. You guys haven’t really been taking inventory all this time? Huh. I just thought everyone was being superefficient.”

  “I’m going to love working here,” Hope said. “But I’m also going to need a raise to handle all this shit.”

  “Okay, I’m almost afraid to say this again, but…any more grievances?” Beck asked.

  “Me. I’ve got a fucking grievance.” Jack Sinclair walked into the office, taking long strides until he stood across from where Hope sat at the table. He leaned down, his hands balled into fists and pressed onto the table, shoulder-width apart as close into Hope’s space as he could get with a table between them. He slipped one hand into his inside jacket pocket, then pulled out a card and tossed it onto the table in front of her. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you still had Ryker’s number?”

  Chapter 30

  Wyatt

  Hope narrowed her eyes, stood, and leaned into Sinclair’s space. “Because you didn’t fucking ask, you big jerk.”

  I reached over, taking Hope’s hand, giving her someone to hang on to. She’d been dragged into a crazy situation for sure. She gave me a nod and squeezed my hand hard.

  “Look, three days ago I didn’t know who you yahoos were.” Hope ignored Sinclair and addressed the rest of us, still hanging on to my hand for dear life. “I didn’t know if I could trust you. And you didn’t see Ryker’s eyes. I’m sorry, but that man was hurting, so I couldn’t simply hand over the number without checking you out first.”

  “Thank you, Hope,” I said. “Thank you for protecting him. For looking out for him. That’s all we want to do too. But we need Ryker back. If he’s willing to come back. There’s a hole in our lives—our hearts—where he belongs. We need him back. Now that we have you, we need him too.”

  She squeezed my hand, then let go. “I need to think it over. A lot has happened in a short time. Can I have a week or so?”

  “Sure. That sounds reasonable, right, Beck?” My jaw went tight while I tried to maintain calm. If I looked at this from Hope’s perspective, she was exactly right. And a week to think seemed more than reasonable. But from our perspective, a week was going to have us close to punching holes in the drywall. We’d been searching for Ryker for over ten years. But we’d give Hope the week.

  “Give her a week, Sinclair.” Beck’s voice was strained. Yeah, it would be a long week, but if Hope needed time, she’d get time. “We’ll call you.”

  “Fine.” Sinclair looked frustrated, but he gave a curt nod.

  “Stop going through my stuff, Sinclair, or I’ll make you sorry you ever met me.” Hope jutted her chin at him.

  “Already there, cupcake.” He turned and left the room.

  “Okay. That had better be it,” I announced to the room, giving everyone a warning look. “Because Rhia and I have unfinished business and—”

  “Rhia! My God, girl, don’t you ever answer your phone?” Rhia’s sister, Steph, marched into our office like she owned it.

  What the heck?

  “Steph? What are you doing here? Is everything okay with Mom and Dad? I mean, you’ve never visited me at work.”

  “I told you, thanks to Eli”—she turned and waved to Eli as she walked by—“I’m a changed sister. I had to talk to you, and you didn’t pick up your phone. Hello, Wyatt, you naughty boy, you.”

  “Hello, Steph.” I didn’t smile as I was withholding judgment on this “changed” sister. The way I saw it, the whole Hollis clan needed to change the way they treated Rhia.

  “I’m about to save your bacon, so a little friendliness would not be unwarranted.” Steph poked me in the chest with her index finger on the words “not be unwarranted,” only she did one poke per syllable, so she poked me six times. If I weren’t so nice, I’d have bent back her finger on the fifth poke.

  “I don’t care about my bacon. It’s your sister’s bacon I care about.” Yeah, that didn’t come out too great. I knew that because Steph frowned, Rhia’s eyes went big, and two of my brothers snorted.

  “So, what’s up?” Rhia took my hand in hers, and I felt like she cared about my bacon too. No, I had no idea what that meant, but it had been a long thirty-six hours, so I was cutting myself some slack.

  “I was sitting in your kitchen eating my eggs…” Steph pulled out the stack of rejection letters and slapped them on the table. See? I was right not to trust her. Rhia had already forgiven me, and now Steph was going to drag me right back in. I moved Steph up on my list of Hollis family members I disliked. I stacked her right under her mother and father. And Aunt Tia, who had the cat and wasn’t returning my calls. How would I know the cat was okay if she wouldn’t return my phone calls? “And I sort of read your letters.”

  “Steph, I’m already over the rejections. It’s okay,” Rhia said. “I appreciate it, though.”

  That was one of the things I loved about Rhia. How darn nice she was.

  “I’m telling you they aren’t all rejections.”

  “Trust me. They’re all rejections. I read them.”

  “Then your reading comprehension is atrocious.” Steph began grabbing them up, a letter at a time, and reading choice quotes from them. “‘Delightful premise…humorous style…unique voice…we encourage you to send us more… While this didn’t work, if you have any other manuscripts available, I would be happy to consider it.’ See? You had seven rejections. Three were form letters, and one was snotty, but, Steph, three of them liked your writing. Two of those were handwritten responses, and both asked to see more of your work. One even asked for an R & R.”

  “What’s an R & R?” This sounded much better than the rejections I’d been responsible for.

  “It’s an invitation to revise and resubmit. It means the editor liked what she read. It means our girl has talent.
” Steph nodded and poked Rhia in the chest. What was with all the poking?

  Rhia turned to me with a smile and shrugged. “What do you think?”

  “I already told you I thought you had talent. That was why I sent it off.”

  “You sent her book out?” Steph did a double take, staring at me with a frown.

  Rhia wrapped her arm around my waist and looked up at me before turning back to Steph. “He sort of thinks I’m great, no matter what I do.”

  Sort of? I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I think you’re amazing.”

  That got her beautiful aqua eyes back to me, and they were hot, like she’d like to do some inventory. Was it too early to quit work for the day?

  “So, are you going to quit event planning and write full time?” Steph asked.

  “No. I’m an excellent event planner, and it pays my bills.”

  “Rhia?” Why wouldn’t she write now that she had proof she was good at it? I was going to try my hand at making handcrafted furniture, thanks to her. So, I guess I was hoping we’d be taking this leap together.

  She leaned up and kissed me, a soft, I-know-you-believe-in-me kiss. Well, that’s how I interpreted it. I forgot we were in a room with other people, and I slid my hands through her glorious hair, and held her head, and took the kiss further. Hotter. My phone rang, blasting music from my back pocket, startling everyone. Even me, as I’d only assigned that ringtone this morning.

  “Rhia, I’ve got to take this call,” I said against her lips. “But please tell me you’ll keep writing.”

  “I’ll keep writing.”

  “More than thirty minutes a day,” I added, needing to make sure she still believed in herself after the rejection I’d exposed her to.

  “Yes, much more than thirty minutes a day. Now go answer your phone. I happen to love Elton John, but if he sings one more verse of “Honky Cat,” I think your brothers will start twitching.”

  “No joke,” Gray said.

  Eli just shrugged. “I like it.”

  “Rhia, would you like to take our fake-dating to the next level?”

  She looked at me, both amused and confused. “We’re already fake-pregnant with triplets. What’s the next level beyond that?”

  I shook my head, my phone on the fifth and final ring before it went to a message. I needed to grab it. “Real dating, Rhia. I want to be your guy for real.”

  “Oh!” She smiled, and blinked her fey eyes at me. “I’d like that. A lot.”

  “Okay. We’re dating. Exclusively. For a long, long time.” My eyes locked on hers while I flipped on my phone and accepted the call. “Wyatt Thorne here.”

  It was the call I needed. Leaning forward, I kissed Rhia, then walked away to take the call and lock down another important must-have in my life.

  So far, I was two for two on securing what I knew I needed for my future: Woodworking and Rhia.

  I wasn’t much of a talker, but I was about to sweet-talk a little old lady out of her cat. Strike that. My cat. Wish me luck.

  Epilogue

  The Cat

  Two months later…

  You know what’s good in life? Knowing someone loves you. Now, I’m not saying Aunt Tia didn’t love me. What’s not to love about a cat, am I right? I’m just saying she loved bingo more. Yep. I don’t even think Rhia knows, but Wyatt ended up paying Aunt Tia five hundred dollars for me. That’s a lot of games of bingo down at the community center.

  So, now I’m back with Rhia and Wyatt, which is where I always belonged. I get cuddles when I want them. The entertainment is primo. I’ve got nothing against Aunt Tia’s obsession with Family Feud, but name something that will put a young cat into a coma…survey says…nah, just kitten. Seriously, though, I’m young. A cat like me needs a bit more action.

  I get to go to the office and hang out all day. Wyatt has a lot of brothers, and those brothers have hands, and those hands usually have treats. At home, we watch hockey and action adventure movies, along with a few musicals when it’s Rhia’s night to pick the movie.

  I love to curl up between Rhia and Wyatt on movie night. And the timing works great because just when I’ve had enough “together time” with my humans, I leave to go do my own thing, and they do that thing with their lips, and then disappear into the bedroom. I’m not allowed in when the door is closed, which is fine with me because sometimes it sounds like there’s a catfight going on in there.

  Life’s pretty purrrrfect. There’s only one thing worrying me.…

  I’m still waiting for Wyatt to name me. I don’t know what’s taking so long. I’m starting to get nervous. Every cat knows once your people name you, they have to keep you. Although, I know they love me.

  How do I know? Not only did Rhia save me, but she tells me every day. I allow her to cuddle me on her lap while she tells me how sweet I am and how much she loves me. I’m happy to bask in the glow and give her a purr. She loves it. I love it. It works for us.

  And Wyatt? That man needed me. Can you believe a person made it twenty-six years of their life and never had the privilege of being an animal’s human? That’s not only shocking, it’s downright sad. I still remember the first time he held me. He treated me like I was some priceless Fabergé egg. You’re probably wondering how a cat knows about Fabergé eggs. Hours and hours of Family Feud at Aunt Tia’s, that’s how. Name something priceless and delicate. Survey says… The number two answer was Fabergé egg.

  Number one answer? Love.

  Which brings me back to my point, I named my people from day one.

  Rhia is the Redheaded Savior. Wyatt is the Giant with Gentle Hands. Also, the Giver of Tuna, although the two of us keep that one on the down-low. I’d appreciate if you didn’t let the cat out of the bag. See what I did there? ;)

  If Wyatt would only name me, all would be right in my world. The fact that it was taking so long was making me feel like a cat on a porch full of rocking chairs. I didn’t even care what name at this point.

  Hello Kitty. Boots. (What? No, I didn’t just roll my eyes.) Madam Meows A Lot. Thundercat. Miss Flufferton. My Milkshake Brings all the Toms to the Yard. Willow. Seriously, anything. I simply want a name, so I know I’m staying.

  I don’t even mind sharing my space with all the stray animals Rhia brings home. I’m sort of like a foster sister; I help take care of them while Rhia nurses them back to health. I might do a special strut once they’ve been adopted and are out of my realm. I don’t mind sharing my humans for a little bit, but I love basking in their attention when it’s just me.

  Oh, hey, here comes Wyatt. Now for a little me-time and a back scratch.

  Wyatt

  “Well? What’s the word?” Rhia asked from where she sat behind her desk in her solitary office down the hall from mine. The late afternoon sun sliced through her vertical blinds, lighting up the wild copper and flame-kissed curls I’d had wound up in my hands just last night. Man, I loved her wild—

  “Wyatt?”

  I jerked my attention from her hair to her eyes with a grin. “Right. I passed.”

  “Wyatt!” She jumped up, rounding her desk quickly, and threw herself at me.

  I caught her with my one free arm and let her congratulate me. It was only the retake of the test I’d failed, but I didn’t mind her enthusiastic praise one bit. She framed my face with her hands and laid a kiss on me before pulling back and out of reach.

  “Sorry. That wasn’t professional at all.” Her sexy grin blinded me to any downside about that. I was sure it would come to me later. “Should we celebrate?”

  “Why? I still have one last section to pass the whole thing. Plus, now that I’m focusing on making furniture, it feels a bit anticlimactic.” Both Beck and I had agreed that since I was so close to certification, it made sense to finish the exam. I liked working as an architect; I just liked Woodworking more.

 
“Wyatt Thorne, it’s still a huge deal.”

  “I’ll show you a huge deal,” I said just as Eli walked into Rhia’s office.

  “Whoa, no! Keep your pants zipped, bro.” Eli threw a hand over his eyes.

  Rhia snort-laughed, which would only encourage my brother. Hell, good thing Hope wasn’t here. She’d gone back to Arizona to quit her job and pack up her stuff. Our little sister was moving to Raleigh, and we couldn’t be happier. Okay, one thing would make us happier, but the call to Ryker hadn’t produced fruit. Yet. We weren’t giving up. The number Ryker had given Hope was still a working number. She’d left a message. And we’d been waiting.

  Sinclair was pissed that Hope wouldn’t give him the number to run and try to track Ryker down. Hope felt like that was selling out his privacy and wasn’t willing to do that. She believed he’d get in touch. When he was ready.

  I tried not to think about it. Because being that close for a few seconds, thinking we were only a phone call away after searching for so long, got my hopes up. Got all our hopes up. And each day that went by without hearing a response was like the tightening of a vice on our hearts.

  “Very funny, Eli. No, this is my huge deal….” I pulled the wooden bowl from behind my back and held it out for Rhia to see. It was officially the first piece in the Wyatt Thorne Collection.

  “Oh my God, Wyatt, it’s beautiful.” Rhia reached out, running her hand along the smooth grain of the black walnut bowl. “This is art. You don’t actually want someone to use this, do you?”

  “Of course I do.” I thought this would make a nice wedding gift for Beck and Sam, not that they were engaged yet, but it was only a matter of time.

  “I thought you were making furniture.” Eli ran a hand over his beard and stared at the bowl. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the bowl is nice and all. But it’s no chair.”

  “I’ll get around to furniture as soon as I’m done with my certification.” In the meantime, between studying and doing SBC work, I was designing my first collection.