"They broke up." She says each word slowly.
"When?"
"The night before you put the moves on her in the bathroom." She lifts a flat hand in the air between us. "Hold up. You didn't know they broke up, and you still touched her like that? And came here today?"
I rub my hand over the back of my neck and look down at the braided welcome mat, then back up to where Shelby waits for a response. "The heart wants what it wants."
Shelby lets out a disgusted breath, but I think she's mostly joking. "And here I thought you'd changed."
"I have. Mostly." I shrug. "But I'm still me, and there's no way in hell I'd let that boring ass banker have the best woman I’ve ever met just because he got there first."
Shelby gives me a look.
I lift my hands in surrender. "Okay, fine, I was there first, but only technically. And it doesn't matter anymore because I'm here now."
Shelby smiles. "Go get your girl, Wyatt."
She closes the door and I climb into my truck. I have one hell of an idea, I only hope I can pull it off.
I'm going to walk, not talk.
The only reasonthis is going to work is because the inspector didn't show up at Wildflower today like he was supposed to. If he had, I'd be left figuring out another way to show Jo I'm someone worthy of giving a shot.
But luck was on my side, and coincidentally, so was Warner.
"Get out of the truck," Warner calls from the tailgate. "I don't have all day."
Tenley is any-day-now pregnant, and Warner doesn't want to be away from her.
I pop a piece of gum in my mouth and pull on my hat on my way to where he is. "Untwist your panties, bro."
Warner grips one end of the bathtub and pulls. "Get the other side," he grunts.
Together, we get the bathtub into the main house. It's porcelain-enameled steel, and I chose it because it's nicer than acrylic and not as heavy as cast iron, which the sales associate told me is a bitch to install.
"Set it down on three," Warner instructs, then counts down. We put down the tub and slide it to where I want it to go. Warner takes a step back and watches as I adjust it a fraction.
"Why did you buy Jo a tub?" he asks, bewildered. He hooks a thumb into each pocket, one booted foot crossing at the ankle. "Isn't that kind of, I don't know, intimate?"
I shrug it off like it's not a big deal, even though I know it is. "She said she likes to take baths, but doesn't get to, and this bathroom was pretty clearly missing a tub."
Warner studies me. I hate when he does this. It leaves me feeling exposed, and even worse, like there's no way he agrees with what he sees. "Thanks for helping me bring this in here," I tell my brother, hoping he'll take the hint.
"Oh, hell no." He shakes his head and smiles. "I will definitely be staying to watch you install this."
I flash him a dirty look. "I thought you didn't have all day."
"I have time for this."
"Be my guest," I mutter, and go out to my truck for the rest of the supplies. When I get back, Warner is sitting on the closed toilet lid, his leg crossed over the other in a figure four.
I get started, first turning off the water and then disconnecting the drain. I already know what I'm doing because I did this last year for Mrs. Calhoun, but I don't tell Warner that. He's expecting me to fumble and curse, then give up. I continue working, and make sure to keep tabs on Warner's expression as it progresses from amusement to respect.
After I've reconnected the water, he asks, "Where did you learn to do that?"
I gather my trash, and without looking at him, say, "Sometimes I help Mrs. Calhoun with jobs around her house."
Warner stands. "Mrs. Calhoun? As in, Dixon Calhoun's grandmother?"
