No One But You

by Jillian Hart

  Maybe it still did. Perhaps his “old friends” comment had got to her, that was all. She well remembered when Jasper had tried his darnedest to keep her from her friends. So many of them hadn’t understood her situation or had been so busy with their lives they had lost touch. You needed your support system the most when times were tough.

  “You’ve been divorced.” He opened the heavy car door for her. “You must know what it’s like to start over, at least in some ways. It isn’t as easy as it looks.”

  “You’re right. I deal with new starts all the time.”

  “Sure, with your job.” He leaned back against the open door. “You help people. It’s impressive.”

  “Mary’s Place has a great staff. We do our best to make a difference.”

  “One day I’d like to be able to say the same. I admire what your shelter does.”

  “We patterned Mary’s Place after Nellie’s, a shelter in Toronto.”

  “Folks you know?”

  “People I love.” She bit her lip, not ready to tell him the truth. She didn’t want him to know, and she couldn’t say why. “Nellie’s is a full-service shelter that offers more than emergency housing. They do everything from education to counseling to advocacy. They provide an environment of compassion and support that assists a woman and her children from their first contact with the shelter and beyond, including their transition into the community.”

  “I’m impressed with that kind of commitment.”

  “I was, too. They help everyone with an attitude of love, acceptance and respect. You have no idea how incredible that is to a woman whose self-esteem and identity are in pieces after abuse. That’s my vision for Mary’s Place.”

  “Your organization is one of the best around. It’s why Ella Jean selected you for the land donation.” Wyatt’s baritone was rich and warm. “You have the heart for the work.”

  “Wyatt, that’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in some time.” She hated croaking out the words, but her throat had suddenly gone tight. Vaguely, she was aware of the boys already tucked in the backseat, watching them. Apparently Dan needed a ride home, which wasn’t unusual. She drove him more often than not.

  “Hey, Mr. Royce.” Jake wedged between the seats to smile up at his new friend. “What are you doing for supper? You gotta eat, right? How about pizza? What do you think, Mom?”

  “That I should have seen this coming,” she quipped, but she didn’t have the heart to say no. She’d gotten a glimpse into Wyatt’s life. Maybe he was successful, but he was alone and she knew what that was like. Mariah couldn’t help caring. Perhaps a new friendship was rising from the ashes of the old. “It’s fine with me, but Wyatt has plans.”

  “Which I can change. We’ll give my agent the night off. Pizza sounds good.”

  “Awesome.” Jake grinned in victory and sank back into the seat, his voice animated as he discussed plans with Dan.

  “Awesome,” Wyatt parroted, with humor gentle in his eyes as he waited for her to climb into her seat. “I guess I’ll follow you?”

  “I’ll try not to lose you in traffic. We’re only going about four blocks.” She eased behind the steering wheel, looking up at the man, who’s dark hair was once again tousled by the wind. So much time had passed, they had gone down separate paths, and yet it felt as if nothing between them had changed. The romance was gone but the friendship remained. “We’ll see you there.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” He closed her door before he walked away. She watched him go when she should have been sorting through her keys, starting the car and getting on her way. But she couldn’t take her gaze from the solitary figure at the shadowed edge of the lot. How many years had he been alone? And why was her heart tingling?

  He raised his hand in a wave, perhaps sensing her gaze, then the darkness swallowed him.

  But the tingling in her heart remained.

  Chapter Five

  The restaurant’s neon sign glowed with the force of a full moon as Wyatt exited his car and hit the door locks. Two teen boys spilled out of Mariah’s SUV two slots down.

  “Cool car.” Jake jogged over.

  “Thanks. They have good pizza here?”

  “The best. Right, Dan?”

  “Totally.”

  Mariah. She still took his breath away. Impossible, but true. She breezed closer and the kids led the way, heading to the front door with the single minded purpose of hungry teen boys. Wyatt fell in stride beside her. “I remember being just like that. I could eat an extra large pizza in one sitting.”

  “It’s true. I stand as a witness.”

  He caught the door for her. Too bad his heart wasn’t fluttering. He wished it would. Nothing had touched it in so long.

  “Mom, Dan and I are gonna hit the games,” Jake called over his shoulder. “Mr. Royce, you can come if you want.”

  “Thanks, but I’m video game challenged. It’s embarrassing. So I guess I’d better keep your mom company.”

  “Good idea.” The boys headed off, weaving through the restaurant.

  “I think my son likes you.” Mariah led the way to the right, where round tables lined a long span of windows. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

  “I don’t blame you for questioning it. I’m a shady character.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Let me get your coat.” Wyatt’s low voice vibrated in Mariah’s ear, he was so close.

  “I can get it.” But his hand settled on her shoulder, helping her anyway. “Wyatt, I’m perfectly capable—“

  “I know. It’s called being a gentleman. At least that’s what I’m shooting for.” Humor warmed his words, like the Wyatt she remembered.

  She shrugged out of the garment, doing as much of the work as she could. “I’m pretty independent these days.”

  “You always were. I never knew how to deal with that.” Blue glitters danced in his eyes, doing strange things to her—or, more accurately, to the girl she’d once been. No way would she allow the adult, much wiser Mariah to be charmed by blue glitters.

  She thanked Wyatt for helping with her chair, and glanced across the busy restaurant to check on her son. He and Dan had chosen side-by-side games. Except they weren’t alone.

  “Does Jake have a girlfriend?” Wyatt asked as he settled in the chair next to her.

  “That’s a new development.” The teenage girl seemed to be drawing all Jake’s attention, instead of the game. She was pretty and preppy looking, with straight blond hair and a sweet smile. “I suppose it was only a matter of time.”

  “He likes her.”

  “It’s all part of growing up.” Mariah tried to ignore the spark she felt when Wyatt’s gaze met hers. “But I can’t help wanting to spare him the pain of his first heartbreak.”

  “You make that sound evitable.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “Do you mean like it was for us? I guess so, but there’s nothing like your first love. Even though you shattered me, I wouldn’t have traded those months for the world.”

  “I shattered you? Wasn’t it the other way around?”

  “No.” Wyatt still had that good heart. “You devastated me, Mariah.”

  “I’m glad to see you recovered.”

  “Not as well as you might think.” He turned his attention to the teenaged waiter in a red shirt who approached their table.

  “Hi, Mrs. Duncan.” The kid eyed her companion curiously as he set glasses of ice water on the table. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you on a date before.”

  “Hi, Leif. This isn’t a date.”

  “It sure looks like one.” The kid poised his pen over his notepad. “The usual?”

  “Better add another large and three colas.”

  “And a beer. Whatever you have on tap.” Wyatt leaned back in his chair, amused, as the teenager walked away. “He’s never seen you on a date before? You weren’t kidding about not dating. Have you gone out at all since your divorce?”

  “N
o.”

  “How long has it been?”

  “Almost fifteen years.”

  “Are you kidding me? Jake must have been a toddler. Raising him on your own couldn’t have been easy.”

  “The best things in life never are.”

  “But they are worth it.” Wyatt winced, as if a memory hurt, but he didn’t elaborate. “Why didn’t you remarry?”

  Way too personal, she thought. She didn’t want to let down her guard, even for him. She didn’t want to let any man in. “Maybe you’d like to hear about plans for the new shelter. We’ll be able to double our available beds. Every woman will have a private room for her and her children—“

  “Mariah.” The caring in his voice forced her to look at him. To really look. To remember the good friend he’d been—and boyfriend. When her father died, Wyatt had driven her home from school that day. He’d sat with her while her mom made funeral arrangements, and he’d stayed at her side during the service, a steadfast shoulder to lean on.

  Afterward he’d helped her mom around the house—taking the garbage out, cleaning the gutters, mowing the lawn. Once he’d changed a tire on the family car. Remembering made it possible for Mariah to open up to him—but just a little.

  “It was a hard marriage and a harder divorce.” She took a sip of water. The truth wasn’t easy.

  “I’m sorry it wasn’t better for you.”

  “Lessons learned. I got Jake out of the deal, and that’s what kept me strong. I went back to school, and I made a life for us. We’re happier this way.”

  “You deserve to be happy.” The void that had become Wyatt’s heart ached a little, when nothing had been able to touch him since the funeral and the divorce. “It’s what I’ve always wanted for you.”

  “And I for you.” She set down her glass, her smile nostalgic. “I’m trying to think of what I called you that day in the cafeteria when we had that last fight.”

  “A know-it-all who thought he ruled the world.” It had hurt at the time. “I probably deserved it.”

  “Probably? There was no doubt about it. You assumed everything. What I wanted, what I needed, and that one comment that made so me angry. Let me think. You said, ‘If you take home ec, at least you’ll learn how to cook.’ That drove me insane. It was the last straw.”

  “I was young, what can I say? It sounded chauvinistic, but I meant it in a good way, you know, because you didn’t like your mom’s cooking. You said so yourself. I just adored you so much.” As a tough, rough-and-tumble jock growing up with three brothers, he didn’t have much experience with emotional vulnerability. Taking care of her—and apparently taking charge—was the only way he’d known to show her his feelings. “I meant well, but the practical application of those intentions was faulty.”

  “I’ll say.” Mariah eyed him as if she were a judge debating the veracity of a defendant. “Maybe that’s just the way men are.”

  “Faulty?”

  “Let’s just say I’m better off on my own.” She swept a lock of hair behind her ear. “How about you? How long were you married?”

  “Ten years. Delanie was my college sweetheart. We met in a sophomore economics class. And before you start sympathizing with her, let me tell you we had some good years.”

  “I can see it in your eyes. You were happy.”

  “We were. I did my best to be a good husband. I worked hard on that knowing-it-all and ruling-the-world thing.”

  “But it wasn’t enough?” she asked gently.

  He ignored the hitch in his chest and took a swallow of water. “No matter how hard I tried, no.”

  “I know how that feels. A failed marriage is a lot to go through.” Unguarded green eyes met his and locked.

  Wow, he thought. The recognition he’d always had with her flared to life. Like recognizing like. Nothing registered—not the noise from the kitchen or the rise and fall of surrounding conversations—nothing but her.

  It’s more than the past pulling you. He gave his head a shake, wishing he could feel something alive in his heart. But there’d been too much grief and too much loss. He feared nothing could live there again.

  The waiter finally returned with a basket of bread sticks and their drinks, giving Wyatt time to regroup. “Why did you decide to work at Mary’s Place?” he asked, reaching for a bread stick.

  “I founded Mary’s Place.”

  “Wow, that couldn’t have been easy. It must have taken a lot of dedication and sacrifice.”

  “It was worth it. Mary’s Place is named in honor of one of my best friends, who survived her abuse with dignity, grace and courage.” Mariah stirred the straw around in her glass, not looking at him. “I met her at the women’s shelter where Jake and I lived for two months.”

  “Two months? You mean you were…”

  “A victim of domestic violence. Yes.” Mariah reached for a bread stick, needing something to do with her hands. This was hard to talk about with Wyatt. From the start she hadn’t wanted him to know the truth. Maybe she feared his pity.

  “I had no idea.” Understanding, not pity, resonated in his words. “I wish you hadn’t gone through that.”

  “It was long ago, when Jake and I lived in Toronto.”

  “Toronto?”

  “Jasper’s company had transferred him there.”

  “You were alone without family and friends nearby?”

  “It’s water under the bridge.” She broke the bread stick in half, relieved. Shouldn’t she have known Wyatt would understand? “I like to think it’s why I’m good at my job. I care, and I know how it feels to have someone chip away at your sense of self one piece at a time, hurting you. That’s why it’s important to have a safe place to go where you can heal and build yourself up. That’s why I’m so grateful for the land donation—“

  “You don’t have to thank me again. It was a parking lot I wasn’t using.”

  “It will make all the difference. We’re bursting to capacity. There’s so much need. When the construction is done, we’ll have the space to expand the programs we offer. I—“

  “Mariah. I hope you haven’t become like me, letting work, even good work, become your whole life.” Wyatt reached across the table to cover her hand with his.

  “Not exactly. I…” She tried to ignore the stun gun shock of his touch and the caring in his eyes.

  “Here’s your large pepperoni and green pepper pizzas.” The voice came out of nowhere. Mariah blinked, grateful for the interruption.

  “Thanks, Leif.” She pulled her hand gently from Wyatt’s.

  “Do you need anything else?” The teen set the pies on the table and backed away. “No? Just call me if you do. Enjoy.”

  “I should have known this is what you ordered.” Wyatt grabbed the server and scooped up a big, cheesy piece. “Pepperoni and green paper is still my favorite, too.”

  “Our first date.” The words felt torn from her raw throat. “You took me out for pizza and a school basketball game.”

  “I remember like it was yesterday.” He slipped the first piece onto her plate, his attention solely on her.

  The boys bounded over and dropped into their chairs, reaching for slices. The conversation turned to sports and video games, and yet the closeness she felt to Wyatt remained.

  Unbreakable.

  * * *

  “…and then your mother turns to me and says, ‘Wyatt Royce, don’t you have any common sense?’” He signed the credit card slip with a flourish, continuing the story. “And I’m lying there on the gym floor, looking up at Mariah, who’s shaking her head at me, with disdain on her face. Pain was streaking through my leg, so how could I argue? I was just trying to impress her.”

  “Sadly, it didn’t work.” Humor danced in her eyes as she unhooked her coat from the back of her chair.

  “But you said yes when I asked you for a date the next day.”

  “I know. What was I thinking?”

  The boys laughed as they pushed away from the table, more sedate now th
at they’d polished off the bread sticks, the pepperoni pizzas and another dessert one.

  Wyatt had had a great time tonight. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so much. It had been years, more than he cared to count. He owed that to Mariah and her son.

  Time to go. She’d already joined the boys in the aisle, so he grabbed his jacket and did the same. She looked amazing, laughter lighting her up as the teenagers ribbed her gently over the high school stories Wyatt had spent the last hour telling them.

  “Thanks for dinner.” She smiled up at him, her manner relaxed, like the Mariah he used to know. The one who’d trusted him.

  “Yeah, thanks,” both boys belted out.

  “Hey, I’ve got a brilliant idea,” Jake began, talking over his shoulder as he led the way to the exit. “Mr. Royce, you must like charities, right? Because you donated that piece of land?”

  “Something like that,” he admitted, holding the door for everyone.

  “Maybe you want to know about the hoop fest.” The kid ambled through the doorway. “I could use a sponsor.”

  “Jake…” Mariah’s tone held a warning note as she breezed by.

  “What?” The kid loped across the parking lot. “I’m just saying Mr. Royce—“

  “Call me Wyatt.”

  “Okay, Wyatt likes to give. Maybe he’d be interested in hearing about the hoop fest.”

  “I like the sound of that.” Wyatt strode along beside Mariah. “Let me guess. You’re playing for charity and want a sponsor.”

  “Exactly. It’s for the shelter.” Jake walked backward, grinning widely. “I mean, if you want to get involved. It’s going to be really fun. Last year—“

  “Jake.” Mariah pulled her key fob out of her handbag and headed toward the car. “Don’t take this wrong, kiddo, but both of you jump in the Jeep. Go on. No arguing.”

  “Email me.” Wyatt pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it over as the kid settled into the backseat. “We’ll talk.”

  “Excellent.”

  Mariah gave the door a push, closing it. “Hard to believe I once thought having him was a good idea.”