“No.”
“Or worms? I hate worms, Mr. Wyatt.”
“No bugs or worms. I promise.”
The girls exchanged skeptical looks.
“You two work on those signs. I’ll deal with the dirt.”
Which was what he’d had in mind with the project: dealing with dirt. Get out in the sun and work until he was exhausted. Maybe then he could sleep. Charlie’s emergency babysitting request had thrown a tiny wrench into the plan, but not much. It would give Jules someone to talk to. He wasn’t much good for company right now.
Leaving the girls to the mysteries of glitter and glue sticks, he returned to the frame for the raised garden bed. It was simple enough. A four-foot by eight-foot rectangle of cedar planks, notched to fit together and held in place with a steel pin. Set it up, put the liner in, dump in the garden soil, plant the veggies, water and watch it grow. Or watch the raccoons eat it.
As he worked, the sounds of the neighborhood washed over him. Early May in the suburbs meant the air was full of sound. Lawnmowers, weed whackers, kids on bikes calling out to each other. The sound of the breeze through the limbs of the oaks and the quiet chatter of the girls should have been soothing. But it wasn’t. Guilt nibbled along the edges of his peace of mind. More than guilt. He finished smoothing out the liner and stepped back to double-check his choice of location. Good morning sun exposure with the shade from the oak in the afternoon. Should do well. Some manual labor was the thing he needed.
“Okay girls, we ready to start spreading dirt?”
“We’re still making the signs!”
He grinned. If it had only been him and Jules, she would help him. But she wasn’t going to get dirty in front of her friend. He started tossing the forty-pound bags of garden soil into the rectangle. Probably should have had a load of topsoil delivered, but too late now.
One thing he’d forgotten about this kind of work: it allowed the mind to wander. And it wandered, like the tongue seeking the sore tooth, right to the core of his pain. It wasn’t that he’d been undercover. It was that he had slept with her without telling her the truth. His gut twisted unpleasantly. He straightened from spreading the soil and stretched his back. More than dishonest, it was dishonorable.
He viciously rammed the shovel blade through the plastic bags of soil and bent to tear the plastic, spilling the contents of the bags. He thought back to the moment. He’d been hoping for another kiss. A kiss she couldn’t blame on grief or escape or anything other than her desire to kiss him. She’d upped the ante by slipping her hands beneath his shirt, setting fire to his desire. He sunk the shovel head into the ground and picked up the rake to spread the soil.
Still. You should have said no. You should have put the brakes on the entire situation. She hadn’t known the entire truth at that point. She deserved the truth. Casual sex was one thing. Sex under false pretenses was another. Even with her hands on his chest and that delicious mouth of hers working its way up the column of his neck, he’d been ready to push her back. To stop. But then she’d slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his pants and her fingers had closed around him. Her touch, the assertiveness of it, had stirred more than his body. It had stirred his hope. Were her feelings more than physical? Did she care about him? Could this be more?
“Uncle Wyatt?”
He startled and turned. “What’s up, Jujube? You ready to help?”
“Can we go inside? It’s too hot. All the signs are done.”
“Sure. You can watch the movies Miss Charlie brought. Are you hungry?”
Shiloh held up the tote bag. “Can we eat the snack cakes?”
“One each.”
He watched them go inside with an odd wrench of disappointment. How quickly you become used to situations. He and Jules had depended on each other so much the past six months, he’d become accustomed to spending all his time with her. Now she had a friend. He’d been demoted. But he’d take it if it meant she was happy and doing things little girls should be doing.
He moved more bags to the frame. Almost done. He kept moving. It didn’t take long once he had the soil in place. He set out the plants. He hadn’t tried to be too ambitious. A couple tomato plants, cucumbers, pole beans, yellow squash and red peppers. Once he had them in the ground and a sprinkler watering them in, he went to sit at the picnic table. The girls had done a good job packing everything up before going inside. He smiled. Jules was so much like her mother, who had been a precociously organized little girl. He picked up the signs they’d made for the vegetables. Maybe he should get them laminated first.
He found the bottle of water he’d left in the shade under the table and drank without stopping. It was getting warmer. The capricious May weather that teetered between perfection and hints of the Southern heat to come was tilting toward summer. He leaned back on his elbows and watched a squirrel watching him from the limb of the oak. He should apologize. That’s what you do. When you mess up, you admit it, apologize and make it right if you can. He huffed out a humorless laugh. He’d braced himself for yelling. For tears. But not for her furious outrage on behalf of her crew. In her eyes, he’d not only betrayed her, but her guys.
He picked up the signs and sorted through them. He’d get cleaned up and take the girls up to the Office Depot and have them laminated. He checked the time on his phone and spun it around on the table top. Maybe he should call her. Apologize over the phone. Be safer. A little frisson of anger popped in his gut. Woman had thrown a damn bottle. Picked it up and for a second looked as if she wanted to cave his face in before she hurled it against the wall. Maybe he should let it go. She had issues. What if she lost her cool like that in front of Jules? Part of him pushed back against that. You know she wouldn’t, it told him.
But what if she does? He needed to walk away. Hell, she’d already sent him away. Stay away, man. You did a job. The end. Nothing personal in it. If she can’t understand, then forget her. That was better. He started gathering the art supplies.
“Abandoned already?”
He turned. Charlie walked across the yard to sit beside him.
“Date over already?”
“Damn straight. First question he asked was how often Shiloh went to stay with her daddy. You don’t want my kid around, I don’t want you around.”
“Sorry.”
“Get used to it. Might be different for guys, though. A single dad seems like he’d make a good family man.”
He leaned back against the table. “My fiancée broke up with me when I decided to take custody of Jules.”
Charlie’s eyes met his. “Better off. Anyone who can turn their back on a child has something wrong with them.”
“That’s what I’ve come to believe.”
She sat beside him. “We don’t know each other very well, so I’m going to come out and ask this. Feel free to tell me to mind my own business. I won’t take offense.”
“Shoot.”
“Are you okay? I mean, you seemed like something was bothering you this morning. And you look, I don’t know, a little down.”
He hesitated. He didn’t want to become the latest bit of mommy gossip. But he was pretty sure Charlie wouldn’t talk about him. He sat forward and propped his forearms on his knees, staring down at the grass between his feet.
“I thought I’d met someone. But it’s complicated.”
“She married?”
“No.”
“Then what’s complicated?”
“I did something wrong. There was a lie and I made it worse.”
“Oh. Yeah. I see. Clear as mud now, mister.”
He laughed. “Like I said. Complicated. She was the subject of my last investigation. Completely innocent. But we got...close...and I didn’t tell her.”
Charlie leaned back and gave him the look. That female how-could-you-be-so-stupid look.
“Am I hearing this wrong? You slept with her while investigating her and then told her the truth?”
“Sounds even worse when another person says it. Yeah. I feel like a giant pile of crap. I tried to apologize.”
“Did she go upside your head? Because I sure would have.”
“Thought she was going to throw a bottle at me.”
“Good for her.”
“So you think it’s a lost cause?”
“Do you care about her?”
“Yeah, I do. And Jules likes her. She was awesome with Jules, too. I just think now I don’t deserve her. What I did was so wrong.”
“Give her a little time to cool off. Try ‘sorry’ again. Maybe she’ll want to talk, maybe not.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“OH, DEAR GOD,” Sadie moaned. She turned her face back into the black depths of her pillow. To hell with breathing. “Close the curtains. Please, Lena. If you ever loved me.”
“Stop whining. No one forced all those shots down your throat. Sit up. I have medicine.”
“No.”
“Get up. It’s after noon.”
Sadie sat up and her head punished her with a walloping pain that seemed to roll through each brain cell one by one. “Jack?”
“I let him out already. Here. Drink this water. Take these pills.”
“I hope those pills are morphine.”
“Better. Vitamin B. Do it and you’ll get coffee.”
Sadie took the glass of water and drank. As the first drops of water hit her tongue, her thirst raged up and she gulped it down quickly. No other water had ever tasted so good. She paused to take the vitamins and held out the empty glass. “Coffee.”
She propped the pillows behind her and leaned back against them while sipping the very strong, very black, very large cup of coffee. “God bless you, Lena. You’re a saint.”
Lena snorted out a laugh. “Wait until I make you get out of bed.”
“Why aren’t you hungover?”
Two fingers appeared before Sadie’s eyes. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Two.”
“Because that’s how many shots I did last night.”
“How many did I do?”
“Four, five. I lost count.”
Sadie wrapped her hands around the coffee mug and slurped greedily. Now that she was starting to come to life, other regions began to complain. Her eyes felt like ground glass. Her stomach was accepting the coffee under protest. Her bladder was stretched to maximum capacity. No wonder she’d been desperately searching for a bathroom in her dreams. Her back was stiff and sore. Awesome. She finished the coffee and threw back the covers.
“I wouldn’t jump right up if I were you.”
“I’ve gotta go.”
She got in the shower after taking care of her bladder. She stood under the blast until the hot water gave out. As she toweled off, the delicious scent of bacon and eggs drifted down the hall. Her body threw off the vague sense of nausea and clamored for food. She dressed quickly in jeans and a T-shirt.
As they ate, Jack came up to the table with his harness in his mouth. Sadie shook her head. “I dunno about that, Jack.”
“What’s he want?”
“To go to the dog park and throw tennis balls. We do it every Saturday morning.”
“Let’s do it, then. I need to make sure you are fully functional before I leave you alone.”
A prickly feeling made its way along Sadie’s arms and settled in her gut. A feeling she couldn’t blame on her hangover. She pushed the plate away. “I don’t want to.”
“Why not? It’ll be fun. Get some fresh air. Move around a bit.”
“Every time I go, I run into Wyatt and his niece.”
“Oh. Awkward.”
Lena reached out a gorgeously manicured hand and Jack lifted his head into her palm for ear scratches. Sadie held up her hands and studied her own nails. Short, unpolished and rough cuticles. At least none were broken today. She’d never be a girly girl.
“So,” Lena said, turning those dark eyes back to Sadie. “You’re going to hide the rest of your life? Maybe take Jack to a different doggie playground?”
“Yes.” Sadie stood and began clearing the table. Nice try. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Hide.”
* * *
“OH, THIS IS a beautiful park.”
“Shut up.”
Sadie sat back against the oak tree and adjusted her sunglasses. Her head and body were getting better, but her eyes still felt as though they were rolling around on a bed of jagged glass. How Lena had talked her into this, she wasn’t sure. As Jack ran for the tennis balls—Lena had quite a good throwing arm, Sadie discovered—she tried to keep from glancing around. She was in no condition or mood to meet up with Wyatt. Especially if he had Jules with him. Her feelings were a jumbled-up mess of regret and anger.
“Stop looking for him.”
“I’m not. I’m... Stop nagging me.”
Lena sat beside her and continued to throw the ball in lobs that arced through the air high enough for Jack to jump for. His favorite. “Are you relatively back to normal now?”
“I suppose.”
“Then let’s continue the conversation about meeting with your mother.”
The water bottle in Sadie’s hand jerked, sloshing water down the front of her shirt. Her brain gave a corresponding jerk, reminding her that the pounding headache was only sleeping, not gone. That old, familiar feeling of slimy fear and hatred rose up and it did not mesh well with hangover mode.
“I’m not meeting with her.”
“Do you remember what we talked about?”
“Yes. I remember perfectly. I’m not a black-out drunk.”
“Don’t growl at me.”
“Don’t...”
Don’t what? Make me face my fears? She turned her face away. How many times had she fantasized about running into her mother? Angrily demanding to be told why she’d been thrown aside like a piece of trash? Too many to count. The problem was the fantasy always ended there. She never had to hear the answers. She didn’t know if she wanted to know them. She drew up her knees and hid her face against them.
“You brought this up. It may have been the liquor talking, but what you said deserves to be considered. These feelings you have. They aren’t hurting her. They’re hurting you. You said this yourself. Facing the past is the only way you can move forward.”
Lena’s voice was soft, and she could hear the love and concern in it. But still her jaw clenched. She struggled to keep from jumping up and running away. Tears welled up and her throat ached in a flood of self-pity and loathing.
“I think you have a chance here to face it. I think you’ll walk away stronger, Sadie. No matter how it comes out.”
Silence spun out between them. She could hear a softball game going on in a distant part of the park. Cheers, the crack of the bat. Jack was nearby, she could hear his doggy breathing. Stare the devil in the face. Lena was right, last night had been the liquor talking. But it was only talking out loud. She’d thought those things for a long time before Grant. Before Wyatt. She’d just never had the will—or the opportunity—to do anything about it.
She lifted her head and took off the sunglasses to wipe at her face. She reached out and took Lena’s hand. “I know I need to do this. I know I have issues with trust. I’m just all jumbled up because I wanted to face her so I could try to make it work with Wyatt. So I might not mess up a relationship with him and Jules. Now I don’t know why I should bother.”
“So you were only going to do it for Wyatt? Not for yourself at all?”
Sadie dropped her head to her knees. “No. Yes. I was. I don’t know.”
“Sadie, l
ook at me.”
Lena’s voice was soft but commanding. Sadie turned her head and peeked up at her best friend. “I know, Lena. Don’t say anything. I’ll do it. And I’ll do it so I don’t have to feel like this anymore.”
Lena grinned. “It would be nice if that hot bod of his could be a bonus prize, though, right?”
She felt her resolve returning. Maybe things were over with Wyatt, but she still had other issues to resolve. The walls she’d built against the pain and fear had become second nature. Pushing people away was like slipping into an old pair of jeans: easy, comfortable. But there was a second wall. The one she’d put between her heart and her feelings. She was getting lonely, trapped between the two. But did she have the courage to tear them down? Would she ever be able to simply offer her love to others? Love people because she loved them and not because they’d proven themselves worthy?
She felt adrift at the thought. It was scary, but she found a part of her yearning for it to be over. She was tired of struggling.
“Will you come with me?”
Lena draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight. “Of course I will.”
Sadie pressed her lips together. “I need to tell Josh. I’d want him to be there.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Both of you. You give me courage, Lena. But Josh? He’s my strength.”
* * *
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”
Her insides crumbled. The tenuous grip she had on her feelings began to slip. Josh’s eyes burned with an anger she could see clearly from across the desk. His body language remained calm and he hadn’t changed his lazy, slumped position in his chair. But his eyes. They bore a hole through her. This wasn’t the reaction she’d expected to her decision to meet her mother.
“No. I’m not. I think it’ll be a good thing if I can...”
“Lena put this in your head, didn’t she? I knew I shouldn’t have called her. What’d she do? Get you drunk and talk you into it?”
“No, that isn’t how it was. I have been thinking about it ever since I got Grant’s letter. Damn it, Josh! You know me. You know I walk around pushing people away. You know I’ve ruined every relationship I’ve ever had. I’m tired of it. I want to be normal. I need to face her. Yes, I talked it over with Lena before I told you. That doesn’t mean it’s her fault.”
Spying on the Boss Page 21