“Cool,” Brady said with a nod. “What’s his name?”
“The Mighty Bane. He fights bad guys in his city.” Once he began reading, he got into the story and the characters, and he caught a break from worrying about what might be going through Kayla’s mind.
“Help! My purse,” Wyatt cried in a falsetto voice as an elderly woman’s purse was snatched by a punk.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get it back for you, ma’am.” Bane changed into his wolf even as he spoke.
“It’s a trap,” he explained to Brady as he turned the page. “But of course our hero has no idea.”
“We have you, Bane, the not-so-mighty, now,” said the thug. “See how the head of the gang smacks a baseball bat against his palm?” Wyatt asked. “SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. That’s the sound of the bat against the thug’s hand while the ten lowlife gangsters circle the Mighty Bane.”
“When we’re through with you, there won’t be nothin’ left.” The creep’s evil laughter sets Bane in motion. See here where he shifts again, his bones crackling and lengthening. Where the wolf stood but a moment ago, now a twelve-foot-tall bear faces the angry gang members. His ferocious growl rumbles and echoes against the surrounding brick buildings. SNARL! RIP! THUD! The sounds of battle reverberate off the alley walls, Brady. Bane’s huge claws swipe left and right and his jaws snap.”
“Does Bane beat the bad guys?” Brady asked, peering up at Wyatt.
“We’ll see.” Wyatt turned the page and continued to tell the story.
“I want to draw comic books when I grow up,” Brady announced once they’d finished reading how the Mighty Bane had once again defeated the criminal element of his made-up city.
“Why wait until you grow up? I have lots of paper and colored pencils. Do you want to draw right now?”
“I already drew one at school, and I sent it to Gammy and Pops. Can I have a snack too?”
Wyatt’s heart melted. Brady trusted him. They’d bonded, and he’d walk on hot coals followed by a bed of nails before he’d break that bond. “Of course. Let me get the paper and pencils, and then I’ll see about a snack.”
He left Brady sitting on the couch and strode to his studio to put the comic book away. His gaze lit on the Elec Tric cover still sitting on his drawing table. He wanted to rip it to shreds. Frustrated, he blew out a breath and headed back to the living room. At least he had no doubts about where he stood with the five-year-old.
After he set everything up for Brady to color, Wyatt went to his kitchen and opened his fridge. “You want a pear, Brady?” he called.
“Yes, please,” Brady called back, his tone already distracted.
Wyatt washed and cut the pear into bite-sized pieces. He tossed them into a bowl, grabbed a couple of napkins and brought them to the coffee table. “Let’s see what you’ve come up with so far,” he said, taking a seat. “We comic book writers can bounce ideas off each other. What do you say?”
“Uh-huh.” Brady showed him his childish figures with their round bellies and sticklike limbs. “This is the good guy,” he said pointing to one of the figures. “And this is a monster.”
“Ahh, I see. Nice job.” The monster’s only distinguishing feature was a set of horns—or were they ears?—on top of its head. “Here’s your pear.”
Brady took a piece and popped it into his mouth. Pear juice dampened the paper where he set his hand to color in the rounded bodies of his hero and monster.
“So, tell me what your monster is up to?” A knock on his door sent Wyatt’s pulse skyrocketing. “That’ll be your mom.” He shot off the couch. “I gave Brady a snack,” he murmured, as he opened the door wide to let her in. “I hope that’s OK.”
“Oh, thanks,” she said, not meeting his eyes.
Great. Back to that, are we?
“Mommy, I’m drawing another comic book,” Brady announced.
“That’s nice, but it’s time for supper.” She moved to stand beside Brady. “Wow. Awesome pencils and paper, there, buddy. Did you thank Wyatt?”
Brady shot him a “back me up, ’cause we’re guys” look. Wyatt winked. “He did thank me, and he also said please when he asked for a snack. He can take the extra sheets of paper and the pencils with him if he wants. I have plenty.”
“Can I, Mommy?”
“You have crayons and colored pencils upstairs. You can finish your picture with your own supplies.” She glanced at Wyatt. Finally. “Your paper must be expensive. He has plenty of stuff he can use. Thanks for watching him and for letting him color.”
“Kayla, I can tell you’re upset.” Had that come out of his mouth, past the dryness and his pounding heart?
“I’m not.” She shook her head. “It’s just that . . .” Her expression tightened. “I feel bad, because—”
“I only suffered a very temporary and topical sting to the ego. I’m way past it now.” He waved a hand in the air, going for dismissive. It came across more as a lame demonstration of just how far past it he really wasn’t.
Her brow rose slightly. What did that mean? What would she do if he told her the truth? The closer they became, the more time they spent together, the more he wanted her. What if he admitted that standing this close to her drove him crazy with the need to have her in his arms? He couldn’t say any of that.
“Writing is the way I process things, and of course I dramatize for the sake of the story. That’s all. I don’t want this to come between us. I don’t want this to jeopardize our friendship. I’ll tear up that episode, I swear.”
“Don’t tear it up.” She let out a shaky breath. “Finish it, make a color copy, and give it to me before I leave on Friday afternoon. It’s part of the Elec Tric saga, and I want to give as much as I can to my aunt, so she can give it to her agent.”
“All right. I’ll work on it tonight if you promise me we’re OK.”
“We’re fine. Friendship intact.” Her eyes were a little too bright, and her smile a little too forced.
He reached for her and drew her close. She was stiff in his arms, and she patted his back. Clearly they were not OK, and he’d just turned things awkward to the nth degree.
She stepped away and offered him another unconvincing smile. “Brady and I are heating up leftovers for supper. You’re welcome to join us.”
“Umm . . . I think I’d better work on that last installment of the Elec Tric series.” He raked a hand through his hair, knocking off his hood. He started to pull it back up.
Kayla caught his hand and brought it down. “Don’t,” she said, her voice a rasp. “Don’t feel like you have to cover up—not with me.” Her gaze roamed his face, her expression intense and imploring.
She still gripped his hand. Instinct took over, and he tugged her close again. This time she wrapped her arms around his waist, laid her head against his shoulder and hugged him back for real. Enveloped in her warmth, her scent, it was all he could do not to kiss her crazy and back her up against the nearest wall.
She swallowed a few times, and it registered in his lust-fogged brain that she really was upset. He nuzzled the softness of her temple, inhaling her essence, and she shivered against him. That small movement sent him tumbling across that line he wanted so badly to cross. He angled his head to capture her mouth with his, but she pulled away, leaving him with empty arms and a raging hard-on.
“We’d better get going,” she chirped in a strained tone. “Come on, Brady. Dinner and a bath, and then bed. Tomorrow is a school day.”
Brady popped the last piece of pear into his mouth. “OK.”
Wyatt followed them to the door, mortified that he’d almost lost control right in front of her son. Heat surged to his face. Kayla had to be aware of the way her closeness affected him. Their bodies had touched from chest to toes. Still in a haze of desire, his brain wouldn’t sync with his mouth. He couldn’t string together a sentence if his life depended upon it, and the tension definitely needed cutting.
“Bring a copy of that latest installment up to my place whe
n you have it,” Kayla said, with yet another artificial smile plastered on her face.
Still on involuntary mute, Wyatt nodded, and the two left. He closed the door behind them, wishing like hell thought balloons would appear over Kayla’s head so he had a clue what was going through her mind. What a superpower that would be.
Humph. He’d have to create a new comic book character who could do that visible thought bubble thing, since he couldn’t. Too bad life wasn’t like his comics. If it were, he could concentrate really hard and develop the power. Sighing, he plodded into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Then he headed for his studio to work on finishing the latest Elec Tric disaster—or rather, his latest disaster, another setback in the Wyatt and Kayla saga.
Kayla had bought a small suitcase for Brady at a discount store the night Wyatt watched Brady for her, and she’d dug out her hand-me-down suitcase from her closet. All she had left to do was the laundry tonight and packing tomorrow night, and they’d be ready to head out on Friday. She led Brady across the hall to Mariah’s apartment, leaving her one tub of laundry in the hallway by her apartment.
The door opened before she could even knock. “Boy, are we glad to see you two.” Mariah grinned, placing her hand on the top of her daughter’s head. “Seems like you’ve been awfully busy with our downstairs neighbor lately.”
Kayla sucked in a breath. She longed to talk to someone about Wyatt, but she wasn’t ready to give voice to her obsession. Had he almost kissed her yesterday? She wasn’t sure, especially after his “it was only a topical sting to the ego and I’m way past it now” speech.
She may have imagined he’d intended to kiss her, but she hadn’t imagined his hard length pressing into her. She needed space, time to think. He meant way too much to her to complicate their friendship with sex, but damn . . . she wanted him.
“So. What’s going on with you and Wyatt?”
“He and I are friends.” Man, she was tired of that word, which didn’t begin to encompass what she felt for him. Where her husband had run her into the ground, Wyatt encouraged and praised. He helped her to feel good about herself and the choices she’d made . . . with the exception of her choice not to date him, that is. Too late now. He was over her.
“Friends with benefits?” Mariah waggled her eyebrows.
Her heart thudded. There was no mistaking the way his body reacted to hers when they hugged. Even thinking about him brought a throbbing ache to her core. “Not that kind of deal,” she muttered.
“Rosie, you know what?” Brady jumped over the threshold. “I caught a fish, a . . . what kind was it, Mommy?”
“A walleye, and we fried it up for dinner, along with a few other fish Wyatt caught,” she said. “Wyatt and I also took Brady to Nickelodeon Universe at the Mall of America. You and I should take the kids there together soon.”
“Yay! Mall of America.” Rosie grabbed Brady’s hand. “Can we, Mama?”
“Sounds like a good idea. We’ll plan something when Brady comes home from visiting his grandparents.” She flashed Kayla a pointed look. “We’ll have time to get caught up while you’re child-free next week. Let’s plan a girls’ night out or something.”
“Sure.” By then she’d have had time away, which would give her some objectivity. Hopefully her raging hormones would settle down.
“Hi, Mariah, Rosie.”
Kayla gulped. There he was, once again managing to pop up out of nowhere, looking tall, lean and gorgeous.
“Hey, Wyatt,” Mariah said. “You’re still a hero in my book. I’m loving not having fuses blow all the time. Are you about done with the building?”
“Almost. We’re working in the basement now.” Wyatt held a large white envelope. “I’m glad I caught you, Kayla. Here’s the finished Elec Tric episode.”
Mariah’s gaze bounced from her to Wyatt and back again. “Electric episode?”
“It’s Elec Tric, which is the name of his comic book hero. My aunt is going to show Wyatt’s work to her agent next week.”
“Oh.” Mariah nodded slowly, her gaze once again darting between her and Wyatt. “Well, we’ll definitely have to get caught up soon.”
“Absolutely.” Rose and Brady had already disappeared, and Kayla jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “I’d better go get that laundry done.”
“I’m on my out anyway. I’ll carry the tub down for you.” Wyatt didn’t wait for her response. He handed her the envelope and trotted off to grab her dirty laundry before disappearing down the stairs.
“There’s nothing going on between you, eh? Wish I had a neighbor to carry my stuff like that.” Mariah smirked. “You will tell all. Either later tonight or after your weekend in Iowa.”
Would she? “See you later.” Kayla walked across the hall and unlocked her door. She set the envelope on the dining room table, alongside the other one containing Wyatt’s comic book copies. She was itching to read all about the Mysterious Ms. M.
Tonight, once Brady was in bed, she planned to go through everything in those envelopes, dammit. They taunted and teased her, but she’d been too busy preparing for her trip to get into them.
By the time she made it to her car, Wyatt and his truck were gone. He’d set her laundry tub next to her car, not even sticking around for a minute so she could thank him for his help. Maybe he was avoiding her again. Disappointment tugged at her, and a lump of sadness settled in the pit of her stomach.
Was he off on a date, or to meet his siblings at The Bulldog? Either way, tonight could be the night he’d meet someone who wouldn’t turn him down, and why wouldn’t he? He’d gotten way past her. Yep. She definitely needed space to unravel the tangled thoughts and feelings she carried for Wyatt Haney.
Chapter Twelve
“Too early in the morning for a meeting,” Wyatt muttered to himself Friday morning as he pulled his truck into the lot at Haney & Sons. Grandpa Joe had texted the night before saying he wanted all the partners present for a meeting at seven sharp. The last time Gramps had called a meeting like this, they were in trouble because of the collapse of the housing market. They couldn’t be in trouble now, could they? They were barely keeping up with all the work coming in. So, what was up?
Josey drove into the lot while he was still sitting in his truck, trying to wake up. He climbed out and walked over to meet her. “Any idea what this is about?”
“Not a clue.” She shook her head, her expression tinged with worry. “I hope Grandpa Joe isn’t sick or something—or Grandma Maggie.”
“That hadn’t even occurred to me.” He scowled at her. “Thanks a lot.”
“It might be nothing. Maybe we have a big project coming up, and he wants to talk about scheduling.” She nodded toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get coffee before this thing starts.”
Wyatt opened the door, and the smell of fresh medium roast wafted over him. He followed his sister inside. “Whoa. Must be serious,” he said, eyeing a large white pastry box on the counter. “Gramps sprang for doughnuts.”
Jerry strolled into the kitchen from the hallway. “G-good m-morning.”
“Morning to you too, Jer. Do you have any idea what this meeting is about?” Wyatt asked, helping himself to coffee.
“N-nope.” Jerry opened the lid on the pastry box. “Gramps said we could have a doughnut n-now, though.”
“Good, I’m starving,” Jo said, setting a pile of napkins next to the treats. “What have we got here?” She peered inside. “Mmm. Old-fashioned glazed and crullers. Tough choice.”
Sam strode through the door, followed by their cousin, Jack Junior. “Do any of you know why we’re meeting this morning?” Sam asked.
Josey chose a glazed doughnut. “No clue.”
Once the other two cousins trickled in, and everyone had helped themselves to coffee and treats, Grandpa Joe, Uncle Dan and Uncle Jack entered the kitchen from the offices in back. All three wore similar expressions—solemn. Wyatt’s anxiety kicked up. Oh, God. Somebody is sick. Grandma Maggie?
/> “Good morning. Thanks for coming in early,” Grandpa Joe said before placing his clipboard at the head of the table. He chose a doughnut, helped himself to coffee and settled into his chair. He spent a few minutes passing out jobs and bid requests before starting. “I’m sure you’re all curious to know why I wanted you to come in a bit early this morning, so I won’t keep you in suspense.” He looked around the table at each of them from under his bushy eyebrows.
“I’m retiring at the first of the year. Jack and Dan will take over running the business, and things will continue on as they have. Any questions?”
“You’re both in good health though, right?” Josey asked, her eyes narrowed.
Grandpa Joe chuckled. “Healthy as can be, which is one of the reasons I’ve decided to retire. Your grandmother and I want to do some traveling while we still can. We want to do a few of the items on our bucket list sooner rather than later.”
Stunned, Wyatt sat back. He didn’t like change. Never had, at least not since he’d lost his parents. Were his grandparents planning to stay in their house, or would they move to Florida or somewhere where winters were mild? His gut churned. Josey was talking, her tone adamant, but Wyatt had checked out. The only thing he heard was the ringing in his ears.
“Are you about finished with the rewiring in your building, Wyatt?” his Uncle Dan asked. He’d taken the seat next to Wyatt’s.
“Huh?” He blinked. “Oh. My building.” He forced himself to concentrate. “We’ll finish up today, and I’ve arranged for the city inspector to come by this afternoon.”
“Good. Right after Labor Day, we’ll put you back on the Woodbury Hills development.”
Wyatt nodded. Josey headed down the hall to the office on Grandpa Joe’s heels, and just like that the meeting was over. He, Sam and their cousins stared at one another, the shock of Grandpa Joe’s announcement still settling.
“Does anybody want to meet at The Bulldog after work today?” Sam asked.
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