by Peter Styles
Okay, small swelling of fatherly pride. No one’s immune to hearing people say they enjoy having their kid around.
“I’ll be happy to have her here the rest of the week,” he continued.
“That would be a lifesaver. Thanks.” I glanced sideways at my daughter, who was doing her best to ignore my presence. I wasn’t afraid of her being home for a couple hours on her own, but not the whole day. “Did she tell you anything?” I murmured.
Ethan shook his head. “Nada. Whatever’s going on, she’s keeping it to herself.”
“Come on, Tempy,” I called.
Her gaze swung my way, a hint of wariness in it that made my chest tighten. The days when she told me every detail of what was going on in her world were disappearing. Maybe they already had. One thing I knew for sure. I was no longer standing at the center of her existence.
I rubbed my chest. Damn, did that hurt.
She was quiet on the way home, answering my questions about how her day had gone with uh-huh, and yeah, and a version of no that made it sound like I’d offended her by asking pretty much anything. Once I unlocked the door and deactivated the alarm system, she started for the stairs.
“Hey, honey, wait a sec.” I cleared my throat, a little nervous at initiating another conversation I was sure would be met with stony silence.
She stopped, leaning against the banister and giving me the look that told me she had no time or inclination to talk.
“I need you to tell me about this kid at school…Kirk Smallwell.”
“There’s nothing to say. I punched him. End of story.”
I tamped down my impatience. “You know you can talk to me about anything…anything at all. I mean is he hassling you because you got your period or something?”
Tempy’s jaw dropped. “What? Oh my God, Dad! No. Why would you even think that? Gross. Jesus.”
I shrugged, feeling as awkward as I had the first time I’d tried to carry on a conversation with her mother right after my first tour in the Army...or when I’d sat down with Tempy to have the talk. “Well, how the hell am I supposed to know what you won’t tell me?”
I was grasping at straws trying to find some way to get her to open up to me. She’d set her jaw, but I pressed on anyway. “Tempy, this guy’s been hassling other girls, right? Is he bothering you? I mean is he bullying you or…or—Christ—did he grab you or something? Do something inappropriate?”
“Gawd! Yuck. You and Mr. Waite—” she paused, her eyes going wide. “Wait. Have you been talking to Mr. Waite? Is that what this is all about? Dad!” Somehow she managed to turn that into a three-syllable word. “It’s bad enough I don’t have any friends anymore. Now all you’re doing is making it a zillion times worse.”
She started to spin away, but I laid my hand on her forearm. “Wait. Tempy, what happened?”
When she raised her gaze to me, tears shimmered in the depths of her eyes. “Kirk’s mom says that Mr. Waite shouldn’t be teaching at the middle school because he’s gay.”
My throat closed as I waited. Even before she opened her mouth, I was pretty sure what I was going to hear. It seemed rumors never really died, after all.
“And she says you cheated on Mom with him.”
Silence stretched. Only the hum of the central air conditioning interrupted it. Fuck. Smallwell and small-minded. I knew what Vance and I had shared would come back to haunt me one day. I just hadn’t expected it to come up here and now, with my daughter firmly stuck in the middle of it…and even further from the truth than what had actually occurred.
“So, is it true?” she demanded, the tears gone and her face flushed with embarrassment.
“No. I never cheated on your mother. Never.” I swiped a hand over my hair, suddenly about a million years old and feeling it. I wasn’t even going to address the other part of that equation. It was too personal…too painful. “So that’s what happened? Kirk said that, and you punched him?”
She shook her head, her hair half falling in her face, and her cheeks getting even rosier. Whether it was with embarrassment or anger, I couldn’t tell. “No. He said since you were gay, I must be a lesbian—and then I punched him. He’s an asshole. And besides, Cara’s gay and she’s my friend so I was sticking up for her, too.”
I couldn’t even call her on her language, much less disagree with her. I took my hand off her arm. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. Sorry you were put in a position of having to defend me, and even sorrier that anyone would think I ever cheated on your mama. I loved your mama, Tempy, and I love you.”
I watched her swallow as though she too had a lump in her throat.
“Come here,” I muttered, holding my arms wide. She hesitated for just a second before leaning into me. I wrapped my arms around her. “I love you, honey. Go on up to your room, but you know we’re not done with this yet, right?”
She nodded against my chest before pulling away and making a dash up the steps. I blew out a heavy puff of air as I watched her disappear around the corner at the top of the steps.
Damn it. One damn mistake, and it came back to bite me over a decade later. To bite Tempy, for that matter. But that wasn’t entirely fair, especially not to Vance. He had saved my life, lifted me out of the depression I was very quickly falling into, and helped me over the rockiness of becoming a new parent.
7
Vance
All through the next day at school, my mind kept harking back to my meeting with Wyatt. There was something… And then I would shake my head. I was imagining what I wanted to be the reality. I wanted Wyatt to look at me with his gray eyes and admit he had made a mistake all those years ago, that he wanted me. I was fooling myself, I was sure, but I couldn’t stop my foolish heart from hoping. I had to stop reading Upton’s romance stories, they were clearly rotting my brain.
“Mr. Waite?” One of my students was holding her notebook out to me, and I realized I had totally zoned out. And, worst teacher nightmare of all, I had blanked out on what her name was.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” I apologized with a smile. “What did you ask?”
“I’m not sure I understand what you meant about the negative exponents.”
I sagged with relief. Something easy and concrete I could handle. Anything to get my mind off my emotions and a hunky dad named Wyatt Worth. I glanced at the name on her paper.
“Have a seat, Hope, and I’ll explain it to you again.”
As we went back over the concept, I kept one eye on the rest of the class, firmly banishing any more thoughts of Wyatt at least until my planning period. I collected assignments for Temperance from the other teachers on my team. While I tried to tell myself I was only doing what a conscientious homeroom teacher should do—and I was doing it for Tempy—I knew there was more than one reason. I could use it as a pretense for seeing him again.
The standard procedure would be to drop the work off in the office and let the secretary call Wyatt to let him know he could pick up Tempy’s work. That wasn’t the way this was going to play out. I was going to take it by Wyatt’s place myself. The decision made my nerve ends tingle with anticipation.
How long had it been since anything or anyone had made me feel alive? Not since Wyatt. Not really. I’d had a few crushes, sure; but no one stirred me up like he had.
Wyatt might like to think I had been just a kid, and there was a gap in our ages, but my emotions had been as adult as they were now. The only difference back then was that I had lacked the nerve to really go after what I wanted. I wasn’t that awkward young man anymore. Somehow, I needed to get Wyatt to admit that what we’d shared had been good. Better than good. We’d been fucking awesome together. We would make fucking awesome parents for Tempy.
My enthusiastic painting of our idyllic future came screeching to a halt. I bit my bottom lip. Seventh grade was such a tumultuous year for kids. The chances that Tempy would enthusiastically accept her dad dating me were pretty much slim to none. What kid wanted their teacher dating their parent?
As soon as school ended, I gathered up my backpack along with Tempy’s work. I started to head straight over there but realized Wyatt would still be at the diner at this hour of the afternoon. Definitely not where I wanted to make this exchange.
Since I had my laptop and most of my work in my pack, I returned to my apartment in a small, quiet complex on the edge of town. I kept to myself most of the time. It was what I was used to. With so much age separating my siblings and me, I was uncomfortable with big families or nosy neighbors. The area in which I lived had neither.
Wyatt was one of the first people I had ever reached out to. So many things had drawn my attention the moment I first saw him at the grocery store. Sure he was good-looking, but there had also been an overwhelming aura of sadness surrounding him. My heart had hurt to see it. Introducing myself, helping him…it had been a need I couldn’t ignore.
I saw some of that same sadness and confusion now. He had turned away from me before because Tempy had needed his undivided attention. Now she was turning away, seeking independence. I wanted to be there for them both, but I couldn’t deny the small tendril of hope that Wyatt would finally decide that he needed me.
The papers in front of me blurred, and I squeezed my eyes shut. What did it feel like to be truly needed? God, I wanted to find out.
Two hours later, I pulled my car into Wyatt’s driveway. The house had changed little in the years since I’d last been here. I pushed away the pain that threatened. Wyatt’s truck was in the driveway. My heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and nerves.
With Tempy’s books and assignments in one hand, I knocked on the door. Her scowling face was the first to greet me as the door opened. Not exactly an enthusiastic welcome.
“Who is it, Tempy?” Wyatt asked, coming up behind her. His voice trailed to a halt. Both father and daughter looked uncomfortable. Also not exactly the reaction I had hoped to find.
I cleared my throat. “I’ve brought by Tempy’s assignments for the week.”
Wyatt’s keen gaze held mine for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Tingles raced along my nerve endings. Before I could fully process it, he shifted his gaze to the top of his daughter’s head.
“Open the door, honey. Let Mr. Waite in so he can explain your work to you before he has to leave.”
Yeah, that was just it. I would have to leave. When they stepped back to make room for me, I entered the front hallway, my gaze shifting quickly to take in my surroundings. Very little had changed. Of course, the baby items that had occupied so much space in the living room before had given way to more comfortable furniture and the pink sneakers haphazardly kicked off in front of the couch.
“Appreciate you going out of your way to bring this by, Mr. Waite,” Wyatt said as he closed the door behind me.
“No trouble. It was on my way.”
The knowledge was there in his eyes. Wyatt knew I was lying. “Have a seat.” He motioned to the couch. “Tempy, make sure you understand what you’re supposed to finish before you go back to school.”
I set the materials on top of a couple of scattered magazines littering the top of the coffee table.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
I shook my head, already regretting the impulse that had sent me over here with such high hopes. What the fuck was I thinking? Wyatt had sent me away for good back then, and avoided any conversation more than a few words ever since. Why would he want me now? “Uh... no, thank you. This won’t take long.”
While Tempy fidgeted as if she would rather be anywhere but with me, I quickly ran through each of the assignments, pointing out the notes teachers had added. “If you have any questions,” I finished up, “just email me. You can submit a lot of your work through the online classroom. You good?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll have any problems. If I do, someone at the Barkers can help me.”
“As in Cara Barker?”
“You know her?” For the first time, there was a hint of interest in Tempy’s expression.
“I had her in my math class at the high school last year.”
Tempy nodded in such a way I had to wonder what was going on behind her sharp gaze. Whatever it was, the trickle of nervous perspiration down my spine was a sure sign it couldn’t be good. I braced my hands on my knees.
“Well, I better get going.”
Wyatt straightened from the doorway frame. “I’ll walk you out. Tempy, why don’t you take that stuff up to your room so it doesn’t get lost?”
She looked as if she were about to protest, but with a huff and a flip of her long hair, she began gathering everything together as I stood. Defeat rolled into me as gently as a bowling ball slapping into a pin. I wanted to go home, wanted to forget that I had ever thought this was a good idea.
With laser-like focus I arrowed my way out to the front walk, so intent on escaping, it took me a moment to realize that Wyatt was right behind me.
“Vance.” His voice was so quiet that for a moment I feared I had imagined him saying my name, but he repeated it, and the sound of it on his lips made me stop in my tracks. Gruff, exasperated, but nevertheless completely under control. And that one word had me under his control. My name. That was all it took.
“What is it?” I couldn’t face him. With my hand already on the door handle of my car, I waited.
“Tempy told me what happened.”
I spun, immediately searching his expression. What I saw there made my stomach churn.
Wyatt’s lips were thin, his arms folded over his chest. “Kirk told her I cheated on Elaine with you.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. You never cheated on Elaine. We…well, all that was after she passed.”
Wyatt’s expression didn’t change. “That’s not all of it. He told her that since I was gay, she must be a lesbian.”
His words were like blows, slapping into me with an ugly, brutish force. They were just a caress compared to what followed.
“His mom told him you shouldn’t be teaching at the middle school because you’re gay.”
“What the fuck?” My heart stopped. Maybe it was for just the blink of an eye, but it was enough I had a hard time catching my breath. Not that I’d somehow forgotten people like that were out there, but Worthington was pretty damn woke compared to the rest of the state.
Wyatt held up his hand. “I think she’s just blowing hot air. But that’s not the point.”
Why did I already know I wasn’t going to like the point he was about to make?
“The rumor about us is still out there. So maybe it’s best if we maintain our distance.”
Whatever hope I’d had that things could be different now that Tempy was older withered and died. I swallowed around the pain clogging my throat, not sure for a moment if I could even speak.
“I understand, of course,” I finally managed to say.
Wyatt sighed, his gaze shifting away from me before returning with some of the old intensity that had hooked my heart so long ago. “Just so we’re clear, this is for Temperance’s sake. I don’t want there to be any more trouble for her.”
Hope was such a hard thing to kill, and it sprang to life again in my chest. “And if it wasn’t just for her sake?” Before he could answer, I rushed on, “It’s just… I still care about you. And I looked up that first day of school to see Temperance, looking like such a perfect blend of you and Elaine. There’s a part of me that wishes we’d taken the chance that we could be together. I could have seen her grow up… helped.”
I stumbled to a halt. Rather than offer encouragement, the sympathy in Wyatt’s expression made me want to howl with pain.
“That’s not what happened, Vance.” He sighed, his gaze shifting away again. “I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t sorry for that. But we can’t change the past. It’s done. We’ve moved on.”
The humid breeze of early evening floated through the leaves of a nearby tree with a sad sort of whisper. I opened the car door, facing him o
ne last time.
“I suppose I’ve always known that.”
I slipped behind the wheel, resolutely keeping my gaze off Wyatt as I shut the door and started the engine. I felt more than saw him step back. He might have moved on, but I hadn’t and wasn’t sure I ever would…or could.
As I pulled away, I glanced back at the house one more time. Wyatt stood on the porch, the shadows of early evening settling around him as he watched me leave. God, how I wished our conversation could have gone differently. My heart pounded as I imagined Wyatt taking me into his arms, brushing my forehead with his lips. It felt so real, I swore I heard the steady thump of his heartbeat in my head. Yeah, if only things had gone differently.
8
Wyatt
I still care about you. Vance’s quietly earnest words had repeated in my head all night long, usually accompanied by fantasies that left me panting for relief. Finally, early in the morning, I stood looking down onto the spot in the driveway where Vance had been parked, slowly stroking my engorged cock as I imagined what it might have been like if I weren’t the responsible person I had always been.
It didn’t take much imagination. I remembered all too well the feel of Vance’s silky hair in my fingers, the pressure of his lips wrapped around my shaft, and the ache in my entire body that only he had been able to relieve. God, I missed it. Turning my back on the pleasure, the comfort, and the warmth that enveloped me when he wrapped his arms around my waist had nearly killed me all those years ago. Seeing him again only brought it back more forcefully.
If I had thought my dreams of him would fade with time, I was mistaken. Twelve years ago, he had been a beautiful young man—not much more than a kid, on the cusp of nineteen. Now he was an achingly sexy man that my body could ignore about as easily as I could forget to breathe.
My strokes sped up as I imagined brushing my tongue along the side of his neck, pressing my cock between the taut globes of his ass, and feeling him push back against me. The strained, purring sort of groan he used to make as I slipped inside him a slow inch at a time.