Tessa shook her head. “She does not, take that back.” Both Maddy and Tessa glared at me. Great, they were already ganging up on me.
“I should go,” she said quietly. “I need to check in at the office, it’s my day off, but since I’m here, I’ll make sure Brooke’s not swamped.”
Maddy’s face fell. “Already? But we just got here.”
“Thank you for lunch,” she said. “Thanks for getting meout of the house.” Tessa’s smile was soft, and her attention was focused solely on my daughter.
Maddy nodded, recovering fast, determined to end this on her own terms. “You are absolutely invited to do it again.”
Tessa gave a strangled little laugh. “Thanks.”
Then she turned to me. Her gaze caught mine just long enough for me to see the storm still churning behind her eyes.
“Wyatt,” she said with a slight nod. Just my name, packed with a thousand things neither of us were ready to say.
“Tessa,” I answered.
That was all.
She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and walked away, weaving through the maze of tables, shoulders stiff, head bent. I watched her until the door swung shut behind her.
I kept watching the door long after it settled.
“You really like her,” Maddy said quietly.
I did not even pretend to misunderstand. I dragged a hand over my face and leaned back against the booth, feeling ten years older and also like my heart was beating too fast to belong to a man my age.
“It’s complicated.”
“It always is with you,” she replied, not unkindly.
I huffed out a humourless breath. “Yeah. Seems that way.”
Twenty-Seven
Tessa
The sunlight was too bright. The air was too warm. My chest felt too tight, like someone hooked fingers behind my ribs and pulled. It wasn’t until I was in my truck, door shut, windows up, that the sound of my heartbeat softened enough for me to breathe.
I sat there a moment, hands on the wheel, head tipped back.
I could still feel him beside me. His thigh brushing mine under the table. His hand, God, his hand holding mine, warm and steady, like I could lean without falling. And for the first time in weeks, something in me unclenched and remembered what being wanted felt like.
I turned the key. The engine rumbled to life, grounding me but it wasn’t enough.
Driving away from town, the image of the booth kept replaying.
Wyatt’s profile in the soft light.
Maddy’s eyes bright with curiosity.
His hand under the table, palm up, waiting without pressuring, letting me choose.
I’d chosen.
I didn’t know what that said about me, except that maybe I’d been lonelier than I’d admitted. Try as I might to shove the feeling away, it stuck to me like dust on a wet boot.
Halfway down the long stretch toward the ranch, the unraveling shifted. The softness curdled.
