No. He didn’t give off creepy vibes, more like big-kid vibes. Didn’t she do the same thing sometimes? Like when she used her son as an excuse to go see children’s animated movies? Still, she’d be vigilant. “Well . . .” she murmured.
“Well?” Mariah glanced askance at her.
“That’s all. Just . . . well.”
She didn’t know what to think. Best to stick with the current plan. Avoid and curtail. She and Wyatt were just neighbors, and even that was temporary. Her attraction probably had more to do with the fact that she’d been without a man in her life for way too long. In fact, she’d never really had a man in her life, since Brad mostly chose not to be present in their marriage.
With Wyatt, she was experiencing a passing fancy with a hormone chaser on the side, that’s all. Eventually she’d find someone else to obsess about, and then she’d forget all about Wyatt Haney and his sexy brown eyes, tall lanky frame, and his amazing smile.
They found an empty picnic table by the playground, and Mariah laid out their feast. Kayla cleaned Rosie and Brady’s hands with wipes and helped them get settled on the benches. She took a seat next to Brady, and Wyatt slid into the spot beside her. Great.
She busied herself with tearing ketchup packets and squeezing the contents onto the paper wrapper from Brady’s cheeseburger. Motion caught her eye, and she turned in time to catch Wyatt stealing a few of her fries. “Hey.” She flashed him a mock scowl.
He grinned and shrugged as he scarfed them down, his eyes sparkling with a teasing glint.
Yet another adorable side to her already way-too-attractive neighbor. Grinning, she set her hand protectively on the side of her fries and focused on her meal. Wyatt chuckled, reached around her and stole another fry. His move brought him even closer, and that turned her on. She narrowed her eyes at him, which only made his grin grow wider.
“Kayla tells me you write comic books.” Mariah shoved a straw into one of the kiddie drinks and set it in front of Brady.
“Yep.” He nodded.
“That reminds me,” Kayla said. “What does the R in your name stand for?”
“Richard. Wyatt Richard Haney.” There went another one of her fries.
She moved them to the other side of her burger, farther out of his reach. “Oh.” Her brow rose, and she studied him. “Rick for short, like Rick Hart in your story.”
“Mmm-mm.” He leaned close and reached around her again—it was almost like being in his arms—and stole three fries in one swoop.
“Grrr.” She picked up the container of fries and set it in front of him. “There. Happy now?”
He nodded, his eyes filled with amusement. “I might share.”
“You two get along, or I’ll put you both in a time out.” Mariah put a bunch of fries on the paper next to Kayla’s burger.
“Yeah, Mommy,” Brady said, handing her a few of his fries as well. “You should flirt to Wyatt.”
Mariah choked on her soda and brought her napkin up to cover her nose. Kayla wanted to shrink to the size of an ant. She swallowed her mouthful before she too choked. “Brady heard that word and asked me what it meant,” she muttered. “I told him flirting means being friendly.”
“And my mommy said Kayla should flirt with you,” Rosie added helpfully. “Right, Mommy?”
Mariah tried to muffle her laughter and ended up coughing. Kayla looked everywhere but at Wyatt. She saw a couple of familiar children and their mothers by the slide. “Oh, look, guys. The kids you two played with on the jungle gym last week are here again.” She gestured toward the playground, sneaking a sideways glance at Wyatt. His expression had turned thoughtful, and he’d gone quiet. Well, even more quiet than usual. She should explain, put him at ease.
“Mariah teased me the afternoon of the fire, because you saved the day and all. You know how kids are. Little pitchers with big ears and even bigger mouths.”
With a slight smile, he nodded and popped another fry into his mouth. Kayla expelled a breath. Of course he got it. Didn’t he say he had tons of little cousins? Mariah’s brow rose and her lips parted like she might say something. Kayla narrowed her eyes and shook her head ever so slightly, praying she’d let the subject drop.
“Mommy, can we go play now?” Rosie asked, around a mouthful of sliced apple from her Happy Meal.
“Sure.” Mariah shifted around to straddle the bench, so she faced the playground. “Stay on this side where we can see you.”
Rosie and Brady ran off, and the awkward moment passed. Kayla shrugged and flashed an apologetic look Wyatt’s way. “When Mariah suggested I should flirt with you, she didn’t know about . . . well, you know. Sorry,” she said. “She didn’t mean anything by it.” He blushed, and heat coiled its way down to her center. When had a man’s blush turned into something erotic?
She could keep her hands out of the cookie jar, dammit, and she would. Besides, she’d already done the relationship thing, and it had been a disaster. Avoid. Curtail. Repeat.
“Wow, can you believe it’s the last week of July already?” she chirped. “Wonder how long it’s going to be before something is done about my apartment?”
Chapter Four
Wyatt gripped the edge of the picnic bench, while Kayla’s words reverberated inside his head. When Mariah suggested I should flirt with you, she didn’t know about . . . well, you know. No, he didn’t know. He frowned. What the hell was there to know about him? He was desperate to ask what she meant, what she knew that he didn’t, but little Rosie’s announcement about how Kayla was supposed to flirt with him had triggered the usual sweaty palms, dry mouth and frozen tongue.
I agree. You should flirt with me. That’s what he should’ve said—what he still longed to say. Wyatt stared at the empty cardboard french-fry container in front of him, his insides churning. The moment for witty comebacks had sailed right past him. As usual. If he said anything now, he’d come across as being off. He swiped his damp palms down his jeans.
At least he’d managed to flirt and tease a little when he’d stolen Kayla’s fries. That could be viewed as progress, unless she didn’t get that he was flirting. What if she thought he was just an irritating guy who liked to steal food from other people’s plates? No. How could she not realize he’d been coming on to her? He’d had his arms around her for a few glorious seconds. She had to have noticed. He certainly had.
His muddled thinking receded a bit, and it finally registered that Kayla had asked him a question. He could answer nonpersonal questions, dammit. Keeping his eyes on the table, he forced himself to focus on her question. “As far as your apartment is concerned, it might take weeks before things start moving. Has the insurance adjuster come by to look at the damage yet?”
“Not that I know of, but the caretaker might have let someone in without telling me.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” Mariah said. “You have to be notified in advance.”
Wyatt shrugged. “Yeah, but this is Floyd we’re talking about. If you catch him in the hall, ask. I’ll do the same.” He rose from the table, pretending casual ease when what he really wanted was a quick getaway, so he could pull himself together enough to think straight. He stretched for good measure. “I’m going to head back. I have a few things I need to do. Thanks for letting me tag along.”
“Thanks for joining us.” Keeping her gaze on her half-eaten burger, Kayla tore a little piece off the bun.
Rosie cried out from the playground, and Wyatt glanced over. She’d tripped and fallen but appeared to be more indignant than hurt. She was already on her feet again. No blood. No major injuries. Mariah hurried off to take care of her daughter. Wyatt opened his mouth to say more to Kayla, but her attention was on the children. He took the distraction as his chance to slip away. He needed to run things by his brother and sister. Maybe they’d be able to offer some kind of insight into this whole flirting business.
He jogged the four blocks home, needing to burn off some of the pent-up energy so he could relax. He unlocke
d the back door and entered the building, just as Floyd was hurrying up the basement stairs. Speak of the devil. They met on the landing by the back door.
“Say,” Wyatt said, moving out of Floyd’s way, “has the insurance adjuster been by to take a look at Ms. Malone’s apartment yet?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no . . . asshole,” Floyd bit out before shoving his way past him and out the door.
“OK?” Wyatt’s heart pounded loud enough that his ears rang. Asshole? He really did need a night out with his pack, because things here were turning to the weird side pretty quick. He let himself into his apartment, threw his keys on his dining room table and headed for his studio—his happy place. Taking a seat at his drawing table, Wyatt pulled his phone out of his back pocket.
His gift for Kayla still sat on the drawing board, and he studied the colored-pencil portrait he’d done for her—Supermom and Superkid, standing side by side against the world, their capes billowing out behind them, stances proud, with their arms crossed in front of them. He ought to frame it before he gave it to her. Grandpa Joe probably had remnant pieces of trim or casing he could use, and he could get a piece of glass cut at a frame store. Wyatt hit the number for his brother’s speed dial.
“Hey,” Sam answered. “What’s up?”
“Are you and Haley doing anything this evening?”
“We’re on our way out the door right now for Sunday dinner with Haley’s folks. Why?”
Wyatt pushed his hoodie off and ran his hand across the back of his overheated neck. “I was hoping we could get together tonight, maybe head over to The Bulldog for a beer. How about after your dinner with the Coopers?”
“Nah. Not tonight. Haley and I put in a full day on our upstairs remodel project. We’re both planning to veg out after dinner, watch some TV and go to bed early. How about tomorrow night?”
“Sure. That’ll work.” Wyatt had already done some rewiring on Haley’s upstairs half-story, and he’d put in the new track lighting for them. She and Sam planned to put her house on the market once they were done with the updates. They wanted to buy something larger, a house to hold a family.
Another twist to the gut gripped him. It wouldn’t be long before the happy couple started said family, and that would mean an end to their frequent and spontaneous meet-ups for beer, burgers or pool. Josey wanted to pair up too, and when she found someone, where would that leave him? What would he do to keep himself from turning into a total recluse? “Have fun with the Coopers.”
Sam chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”
Wyatt tried his sister next but got no answer. He left a message about getting together Monday evening, and finally, he called his grandparents.
“Hello?” his grandmother answered.
“Hey, Gram. I was wondering if I could stop by for a visit.”
“Of course. We’d love to see you. Have you eaten? We’re just sitting down for supper.”
Sweet. He’d lied to Kayla and Mariah when he’d told them he’d already eaten. He hadn’t wanted them to feel awkward about eating in front of him. “I haven’t. I’m on my way, but don’t wait for me. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Wyatt shoved his phone into his back pocket and raced out of his apartment. He needed to be with people who loved him and in a place where his stupid brain didn’t cause his tongue to cement itself to the roof of his mouth. A few minutes where he could think without the fog of confusion, and he’d be able to figure things out.
The minute he walked into his grandparents’ house, the tension bunching his muscles eased. The delicious smell of his grandmother’s rosemary chicken made his mouth water. “Hey,” he said, entering the kitchen. “Smells amazing in here, Gram.” She and Gramps were already seated at the kitchen table. Wyatt leaned down to kiss his grandmother’s cheek.
“Wash up and join us.” Grandma Maggie patted his face.
“How was your weekend?” Grandpa Joe asked, taking a big spoonful of mashed potatoes from the serving dish.
“Disturbing.” Wyatt washed his hands at the sink and dried them on a dish towel. “I asked the caretaker if the insurance adjuster had been by to assess the damage from the fire, and he called me an asshole.”
“Hmm.” Grandpa Joe’s brow lowered. “Any idea why?”
Sliding into the same chair he always sat in, Wyatt shrugged. “I’ve complained more than once about him to the owners. Maybe the flak has finally gotten back to him.”
“Most likely.” Grandpa Joe nodded. “Especially since the fire.”
“That’s not all.” Loading his plate with chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans, Wyatt considered how to broach the subject puzzling him the most. His grandparents had always encouraged open communication, and they’d stressed over and over that he could talk to them about anything. Still, he’d never talked to them about women, because he hadn’t really dated much. No one had drawn him the way Kayla did. The times he had gone out, it had been through fix-ups by a friend or a cousin, and those instances had been disasters.
“There’s this woman. I’m interested in her, and I . . . she’s . . .” He blew out a breath and stabbed his fork into his chicken. “I’m so confused.”
Grandpa Joe chuckled. “Well, that made perfect sense.”
“I don’t know what to think,” he said, shaking his head. “She’s friendly, and I think we’re making progress, and then she . . . kind of . . . withdraws.”
He told them about what had happened at the park, how she believed there was something about him that warranted a “you know.” “I don’t have any deep dark secrets, believe me, so I have no idea what that was all about. The shyness isn’t helping.” He glanced at his grandmother. “Is there any hope for me? Do all women do that?”
“Do what?” Gram asked, her eyes twinkling. “Vacillate when it comes to a particular man?”
“Exactly.” He slumped in his chair.
“Depends. Where’d you meet her?” Grandpa Joe asked.
“She and her son live in the apartment above mine, the one where the fire happened.”
“Well, there you go, sweetie.” Grandma Maggie patted his arm. “She’s a single mom, and single moms can be very hesitant when it comes to getting involved. Especially if their past relationship was unhappy. Be patient.”
“I don’t have a choice. I can hardly talk to her as it is. She’s the one who needs patience, and I’m not sure she’s even interested in me that way.”
Grandma Maggie got up and hugged his shoulders. “How could she not be? You’re a Haney.” With a final squeeze, she crossed the kitchen to the fridge and took out a pitcher of iced tea.
“Gram.” Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Being a Haney doesn’t mean instant attraction.” He cringed inwardly, remembering how it was for him when Sam admitted on the air how women threw themselves at him on the job. His idiot brother had told the radio show’s entire listening audience their last name. Women assumed because Wyatt was a Haney too, and he worked at Haney & Sons, he must also be game for after-the-job activities. He’d been forced to fend off unwanted advances for weeks after Loaded Question had aired. Not something he handled well at all. “I’m not like Sam, you know.”
“Sam isn’t like Sam anymore either,” Grandma Maggie laughed, taking her seat again. “Thank goodness.”
“So, you think her being friendly one minute and withdrawing the next might have something to do with being a single mother?” he asked. “She’s also a widow.”
Gram slid the pitcher of iced tea toward him. “Her ambivalence makes even more sense if that’s the case. Perhaps she’s still grieving. How long has it been since her husband passed?”
“I have no idea, but it can’t be too long ago. She’s only twenty-four.” Grief might be at the root of her mood swings toward him, but it didn’t explain the “you know” part.
“Poor thing.” Gram clucked. “So young, and didn’t you say she has a son?”
“Yep. Brady. He’s a great little guy. Funny.
Cute as all get out.”
“You have a good heart, Wyatt,” Grandpa Joe said, peering at him from beneath his bushy eyebrows. “Always have. If she’s someone you can see yourself with in the future, then be patient, and be there for her.”
Be there for her? He could do that, especially if it didn’t involve talking. He snorted. “I break out in a sweat, and my tongue ties itself into a knot whenever she looks at me. What chance do I have?”
“That’ll pass,” Grandma Maggie said, her eyes filling with sympathy. “Things will work out.”
He hoped they were right. Wyatt dug into his supper. He still had the portrait he’d done for Kayla, which gave him an excuse to knock on her door at some point. He hoped she’d allow him to read more of his comic books to Brady too. If so, that would give him another chance to sit next to her. “Gramps, can I use your workshop to make a frame for an illustration I drew?”
“Of course. You know the rules. Clean up after yourself, and remember to lock up when you’re done. Do you remember the combination for the electronic lock?”
“I do, and I will.” Gramps had taught him how to use and care for power tools in that workroom. “Do you have any scraps of window casing, trim or quarter round out there I can use?” His grandfather, Wyatt’s dad, and his uncles had added the workshop to the back of his grandparents’ garage decades ago. In fact, that shop had been the birthplace of their family business. Now it was mostly his grandfather’s man cave, and the space had everything a guy could want for tools and workspace.
“Sure. There are a few pieces stacked in the scrap barrel. Help yourself.”
“Thanks. Great chicken, Gram,” Wyatt said around a mouthful. Be patient. If that’s what it took, he’d be a rock, silent and still. He’d be as patient as time itself. Whatever Kayla needed, he’d be there for her.
Whatever You Need (The Haneys Book 2) Page 6