Wyatt (Lane Brothers #1)

by Kristina Weaver

  I’ve spent half my life being good and doing what’s right. The last three years have had been me ghosting my way to a sad and lonely future that holds an apartment clean enough to eat off the floors and a job that’s about as satisfying as a toothache.

  I want more.

  “I broke up with him,” I point out in a whisper, silently begging her not to upset Nana where she toddles around in the kitchen.

  “Because he’s a dick. He’s only using you, Han, and he’ll break your heart if you let him,” she whispers back.

  This upsets her more than I could have guessed, and I know that my recent behavior isn’t shining a good light on it. I don’t tell her that it’s impossible for him to break something that’s already broken and cremated, because she’ll go nuts, so I hold it back and inject a firm tone into my voice.

  “I’m going back to the company tomorrow, and we’re back together for as long as we can stand to be together. I…I love him, Chris.”

  “Christ. You’re a real idiot.”

  “I know.”

  She stands and wanders over to the small island separating the kitchen from the living room, and I know that the argument is over. She’s not happy, but she’ll let it go. For now.

  “Oh dear, are you sure your young man won’t be over for dinner? This roast is too big for three women.”

  “No, Nana. He’s away on business.”

  It’s a total lie. He refuses to see me in any social setting apart from picking me up and driving to his house for two or three hours of sex. When we’re done, he takes me home, and that’s that.

  We have no ‘relationship,’ just an agreement to share our bodies, and that’s all he’ll concede for now.

  “That’s a shame, dear. Now, the lamb is in the oven for the next two hours. I think I’ll take a nap while it’s cooking. Wake me when the timer goes off.”

  I nod and grin at her, amazed that a woman her age can still remember how to braise a lamb when just yesterday she’d called me Amber and laid into me for being a mooch.

  I smirk when Chris ruffles my hair and wanders out, to return later for promised feast.

  ***

  “Nana! Wakey wakey, sleepy head,” I yell form the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the lamb.

  “I’ll go get her,” Chris laughs. “She’s so ornery lately I don’t know how you get through the day.”

  I snort and level the spatula at her, laughing too because we both know I’m half-crazy from it.

  “Make sure she hasn’t crawled out of the window, and hurry up. Cold lamb tastes icky.”

  Chris leaves, calling down the hall, and I listen, expecting a crotchety reply to the teasing. When I hear nothing, I figure they’re plotting against me again and make my way to them, chuckling to myself and making plans to torture them with broccoli tomorrow night.

  “Hannah! Call an ambulance!”

  I’m running before I know it, and when I get to Nana’s room it’s to the sight of Chris leaning over her, her frantic movements and chest pumps telling me that she’s performing CPR.

  “Chris…”

  “Call a goddamned ambulance, Hannah! I think she’s had a heart attack!”

  The rest of it’s a blur as I race down the hall and grab the phone. All I remember later, when we’re huddled in the hospital waiting area, is the paramedics shoving me and Chris out of the way and the argument we’d faced to catch a ride to the hospital.

  It’s been hours, and I’m cold and hungry and so terrified I’ve dug half-moons into Chris’s hand. When another hour passes with no word, I go into a trance, seeing and hearing nothing as I frantically keep praying that she’ll be all right, that while I’d cooked goddamned lamb in the kitchen she hadn’t died.

  I don’t remember a pulse or breathing sounds. Just her cold, gray skin and the expressionless mask on her face.

  I feel arms come around me and I lean in, needing so much more than this but grateful to Chris all the same.

  “I don’t think she made it, Chris,” I say through stiff lips that threaten to tremble. “They would have said something by now. Oh God, why haven’t we heard anything?”

  The uncertainty and terror is choking me, and it takes everything not to collapse in a heap of sobbing misery. All I can think is that she’ll never shove bread rolls in her panties again, and I’d just stocked up.

  I can’t even begin to imagine how I’ll live without naked Thursdays, either, which is awful because the neighbors are threatening to get us evicted.

  “Shhh, darlin’, she’ll be just fine. You just take a deep breath and calm down.”

  I nod, not yet registering that the arms and the voice, the solid heat surrounding me and keeping me up, do not belong to my best friend. When I do though, I can honestly say I am floored.

  “Greg? W-what…how?” I stammer, seeing him through a sheen of tears as profound relief hits me. “She…she…”

  I can’t finish as a doctor stops in front of me, looking grim.

  “Miss Newman, I’m Doctor Jonas. I’m sorry for the wait, but I wanted to be sure she was out of the woods before speaking with you.”

  I rise to shaky feet, grateful for the strong arms that keep me close and hold me up. If not for this I would likely be a wrecked puddle on the floor.

  “She’s okay?”

  I feel tears streaming down my face and ignore them, almost sobbing my relief when he nods.

  “She had a mild heart attack, but at her age it is usually fatal. You got to her just in time. We’ve stabilised her, and we’re keeping her sedated until her pressure comes down. Her levels are looking much better, though, so I don’t see any need to worry at this point.”

  “She’s okay then? She won’t die or anything?”

  “She’s a tough old bird. With proper rest and medication she should make a full recovery, although I will stress that she will need a calm, stress-free environment. And day care.”

  Day care? I’ll quit my job and do whatever needs doing as long as she’s okay.

  “Thank you, Doctor. When can we see her?” Gregory asks.

  “You can see her for a few minutes now, and then tomorrow morning during visiting hours.”

  I nod and allow myself to be pulled along, snapping out of my daze enough to realize that Chris is flanking me on the other side, and for once mute about Gregory’s presence.

  I’m totally exhausted and so grateful to see her breathing and alive I burst into tears when we near her bed. Those strong arms pull me into a solid chest, and I feel his hands soothing me.

  “Let’s get you home, darlin’. You’re done in.”

  I am, but with him here I feel more than better, and I nod tiredly as he takes my hand and leads me away.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  “Hannah, wake up.”

  I feel a hand ghost over my cheek and open my eyes, stretching languidly. Gregory is leaning over me, and it takes me a minute to realize he’s holding a breakfast tray.

  “Come on. Sit up.”

  I do, and look down in wonder at the feast he expects me to finish.

  “Gregory, this is way too much food,” I begin.

  He shushes me and picks up the fork, glaring at me till I open my mouth and accept the bite of eggs and bacon he’s speared on it. We don’t speak as he feeds me, though I did reassure him I can feed myself, and when I am done he rises and leaves the room, taking the empty tray with him.

  When he comes back all tenderness is gone, which I suppose is only fair, seeing as it’s been five days since Nana’s heart attack and I no longer need him to keep me from going nuts.

  I cherish that brief time of care, but I see now that it’s over, and I prepare myself for whatever crawled up his ass this morning.

  “I am very glad Nana is okay.”

  “Me too,” I murmur, pulling the sheets up to my naked breasts. “Could I get dressed?”

  I ask every time, because if I do get dressed and he doesn’t want me to, he can be one mean son of a bit
ch when he retaliates. The last time I’d made that mistake I’d had to sit through an hour of some weird documentary I can’t remember while he tortured me with his hands and mouth.

  “No. We need to talk,” he says, stopping at the corner of the bed to look down at me.

  I’ve decided that this is for the best, and honestly I’m not even a little uncertain anymore. We’ve run our course, and I need to be done now. I’ve learned that life is short, thanks to Nana’s brush with death, and spending my time with a man who has told me in no uncertain terms that he doesn’t love me is not healthy.

  I need a new start, and I am quite frankly sick and tired of his attitude.

  “I know.” I sigh deeply before squaring my shoulders. “It’s past time to be done. We’re…”

  He narrows his eyes at me, shutting me up, and tosses something onto the bed. I don’t move until he nods down, only then dropping my eyes to the coverlet.

  My hand is shaking as I reach out to pick it up, and I stop breathing when my eyes finally focus and I am staring at an engagement ring with a diamond that is big but tasteful.

  “What is this?” I whisper, sitting as still as a statue.

  When he doesn’t answer I force my eyes up to his. His face isn’t expressionless. It’s worse. He’s looking at me with a cold determination that makes me shudder.

  “I want what you took from me, Hannah,” he says, taking a step closer. “I’m thirty-two years old. I want a wife and a family. You took that away from me, and now I expect you to give it back.”

  “You don’t love me.”

  It’s a tortured whisper gasped out past the lump choking me to death.

  He shrugs and takes my hand, studying the ring thoughtfully.

  “It’s resized.”

  “Gregory, this is…”

  Not a good idea. Breaking my heart. Not happening.

  “You will marry me, Hannah,” he snarls, and I swallow convulsively.

  Not because he loves me or wants me or anything that resembles an emotion I can live with. He wants to own me and take revenge for ruining his engagement and the merger I now know would have followed between Lucas and Jeffries Industries.

  If he’s just asked…..

  I stare at the ring and know what I have to do…

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Saying that I know what I have to do and doing it are two totally different things, and as I accept it, I know that getting away from Gregory will not be easy.

  I’d managed not to have to accept the ring, by dint of refusing to wear another woman’s ring, but I know my reprieve will be short, and I’ll have to move quickly before he shows up at my door with a ring and the moving van he’s threatening me with.

  For this reason I get dressed and demand he take me home.

  “I’ll be back to pick you up for dinner.”

  I nod and stare ahead, not looking at him for fear he’ll see the guilt and intent in my eyes.

  “Look, Han…this is not a bad thing. You’ll understand that soon enough. We’re good together. We…fit,” he says, pulling up in front of my building and turning to me while the car idles.

  Yes, somehow, in some strange way, we do fit, and I know it. I just don’t know if that will ever be enough to justify spending the rest of my life chasing a dream with him.

  He’s not a bad guy, not even remotely villainous or…I don’t know anymore. All I know is that I love him enough for the both of us to do what I have to, to keep from making a huge mistake.

  “I know that, Greg.”

  It’s all I can manage to say, but it seems enough for him, as he smiles and leans over, planting a soft, passionate kiss to my lips.

  “I’ll see you later.”

  A statement, not a question, and I just nod and get out of the car, keeping my head down so he doesn’t see the tears glistening in my eyes. When I get upstairs it’s to find Nana and Chris sharing breakfast and a couple of dirty stories about love won and lost.

  “Oh, there you are, dearest. Come, have some breakfast.”

  “No thanks, Nana. I need to steal Chrissie for a minute though.”

  She shrugs and goes back to breakfast, eyeing the bread with a baleful eye that brings home just how serious the situation with her is. It makes me second guess myself for the briefest second.

  Being with Greg would ensure she gets the help and care she needs, but I just can’t put myself in this position—

  “You look like shit.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I mutter, closing the door and turning to her with a look she has no problem discerning.

  “What’s wrong?”

  How to say this?

  “I need to get out of here for a while, just till Gregory loses interest and moves on.”

  Her face slackens before her eyes narrow harshly.

  “What has he done?”

  “Nothing!” I rush to get out when I see how quickly her temper heats up. “He…asked me to marry him.”

  Asked…I snort at the lie. He’d told me, just as he tells me everything else.

  “He proposed?” she says slowly, and I see the utter confusion she’s trying to hide. “I…is that a bad thing? I mean, I don’t like the guy, but…I thought you loved him?”

  “Yeah, I really do.”

  “Then why are you leaving? Where—”

  “I can’t do this, Chris. He wants marriage and kids and…everything I have to give him. Without giving anything in return. I love him, endlessly, but he doesn’t love me back, and what’s more…I don’t think he ever will, because he doesn’t want to.”

  That’s what I’m struggling with. He is capable of love, he’s shown me, told me that he loves Selena, and I’d heard him talking to his mother once or twice. He’s so warm and open with them, but when it comes to me he shows me only what he deems fit for our relationship, which isn’t much other than sex and a little companionship.

  I’ve been fooling myself that the charming man who’d taken me to that Italian bistro, the one who’d romanced me, exists. Now I know all I can expect is the man who’d seduced me in the front seat of his car and put his mark on me.

  I’ve been in one failed marriage, and no matter how much I want him, I won’t push myself into another one.

  “Shit. Can’t you just tell him to get lost? You have a job and—”

  “I quit, remember? The only option I have on that front is going back to work for him. I can’t do that and keep myself from caving. You know him; he doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants. If I stay, he’ll have me. Eventually. I need…some time.”

  Just a little time to get the maelstrom of confusion sorted in my head. Just enough that if he still wants me, I can go back to him without this hole in my chest.

  “Dammit.” She sighs, and I see the fight leave her in a rush when she slumps into the chair in the corner and purses her lips. “I have a place in the Vineyard. It’s nothing special, but it’s clean and dry and rent-free. Go there for a few weeks and get your head on straight. But then you’re coming back, Han,” she warns. “You can’t run from your problems and expect them to just disappear.”

  No, I know that. Gregory is not a man who’ll take anything like this lightly, and I know he’ll catch up with me eventually, but like I said, a little time is all I need.

  “I’ll keep the fort down here and get Nana to her doctors’ appointments—”

  “No. I’ll take her with me.”

  The look she gives me is sardonic, and I feel my cheeks heat. She knows me so well, something I have only recently realized. I want to run and run and never look back.

  This is so not me. I’m a self-controlled person. I face my problems and fix them. I do not bury my head in the sand and pretend nothing is wrong.

  The fact that I want to do this now just goes to show how far down I’ve fallen. Another indication is that I’m even contemplating taking Nana away, knowing how important her appointments are to her recovery.

  “She’s staying here with me and w
hatever nurse your boyfriend sends over to keep tabs on everything. Now go pack a bag, and let’s get you on your way. That faster you get yourself sorted out, the faster you can come back and fix shit. Oh, and Han? As much as I hate to say this, are you totally sure Gregory doesn’t love you? No man goes to these lengths—”

  “I know. He’s just about told me so.”

  She sighs loudly and leaves me to my packing, something that’s really hard because I’m sniffling the whole time. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay and march up to him and demand everything I want.

  But begging for love is not something I’m willing to do, so I’ll just have to hope Greg finds the emotion, or I find a way to accept what is.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Martha’s Vineyard is exactly as peaceful and scenic as I’ve always thought. I wish Nana had come along to see the picturesque village and the ‘little place’ Chris has out here.

  When I go back she and I are having a long talk. I’d thought she was a struggling pleb like me, when it turns out she must have some sort of money. Or come from it.

  Her house has four bedrooms and a pool bigger than the apartment. And a caretaker named Henry who looks after the place or Miss Christina.

  Definitely money.

  I’ve been here two days, and I feel fantastic. I’ve slept so much I feel weird being this rested. Another thing is that I haven’t touched a scrub brush or bleach.

  Strange, considering the emotional turmoil I feel, but…for the first time in six years I feel free. No responsibilities. No worrying about my job or Amber or the downward spiral Nana is going into.

  All I’ve done is sleep, eat whatever I want, and lounge around the heated pool. Bliss.

  “There’s a phone call for you, Miss Hannah.”

  I whip around on the pool lounger and eye the phone hesitantly. Surely…

  “Hello?”

  “We need to have a talk about your habit of disobeying me.”

  My body heats at just the sound of that husky timber, and I smile despite the butterflies winging their way through my blood. I should have known it wouldn’t take long, and to be honest I’m surprised he didn’t show up yesterday.