"So could any of us."
"Well, then, you'd better get to saying to Wyatt what you need to say."
He's right. Except, the time for talking is long gone, and I'm not much of a talker anyway.
Real men take action.
36
Jo
He huggedme after I showed him the birth certificate. Wyatt gathered me in his arms without needing to hear any more of my story. He kissed my head and said, "I love you."
It wasn't the reaction I was expecting, and I wasn't entirely certain I could trust it. He was being too nice. Too accommodating. Wasn't he supposed to run away, boots smacking the ground in his haste? That's what my mother always told me would happen. I'm grown up enough now to know her words no longer hold weight, but it's amazing how heavy a parent's mistakes can be.
I told Wyatt everything. Every last detail. His arms tightened, muscles coiling, when I repeated what Ezra's father said about me. It made me smile. Wyatt, my defender.
"I understand if you look at me differently now," I tell him, fingering the edge of the bedspread. How could he not?
Wyatt squints one eye and cocks his head to the side, pretending to study me. "Nah, sorry. You're the same person you've always been, with one exception."
My hand stills. "And what would that be?"
"You're not as perfect as I always thought you were. It's a relief."
My mouth opens in surprise. I don't know what I thought he'd say, but that wasn't it. "Um, thanks?"
He smiles. "I'm seven shades of fucked up. It's nice knowing you're at least one shade."
I allow a little laugh until I remember what Travis looked like when he saw me holding his birth certificate up to the sheriff's face. Everything inside me falls an inch. "Travis knows."
"What did he say?"
"He won't talk to me. He went into his room when we got here and I haven't seen him since." I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do now. He's never been mad at me. That honor always went to the woman he thought was his mother.
Wyatt rubs the small of my back. "Would you mind if I talked to him?"
I tuck one leg into my body and rest my chin on my knee. "That depends. Are you going to teach him the best way to shoplift?"
His hand stills on my back, trembling with his rumbling chuckle. "Only if you want me to."
One corner of my mouth lifts into a smile. I search his face. The slight stubble, the olive of his skin, his eyes so brown with flecks of topaz. Even now, in the saddest of states, he makes my heart feel as though it could fly. "Maybe you can teach him that another time."
Wyatt nods once, winking. He stands up from the bed, but instead of walking away like I expect him to, he pivots and leans down, placing a hand on either side of me. His face is inches from my own. Eyes trained on mine, he says, "I love everything it took to make you who you are." Then he kisses me, swiftly but so sweetly, and his lips taste like a promise.
He pulls away, but before he can get too far, I cup his cheek. "Same, Wyatt. I don't like that you've been hurt, but I can't deny how much I love the person it forced you to become."
He turns his face into my palm, holding my hand in place and pressing his lips to my skin. "Now I officially know I'm an outlaw."
"Why's that?"
"Josephine Shelton, I do believe I've stolen your heart."
I make a noisy, amused sound with my nose. "Corny."
Wyatt grins. "So corny. But you love it."
My heart flutters. "There's no denying that."
