Honeysuckle Bride. Tara Randel
feels. I haven’t lost a child, but my best friend’s death touched me deeply.”
He cocked his head. “Maybe you could talk to him once in a while. No one can convince him to see a counselor, but since you’re both dealing with loss, he could use a friend.”
Sit down with a man still so deep in grief over the death of his son and talk about...what? Life? Moving on? She barely had a handle on it herself.
“I don’t know.”
“Look, it’s just a thought.”
A thought now firmly planted in her mind.
After the brief visit with Wyatt today, she had to admit, she found herself more than a bit curious about him. His dark good looks were made more interesting by the light beard dusting his face. Most guys in LA paid big bucks for the natural look Wyatt achieved without trying. His broad shoulders and muscular arms told her he wasn’t afraid of hard work. And his eyes. So blue. So troubled. Not that she’d noticed or anything.
Right. Okay, she’d noticed. She was only human, after all. And it had been a long time since a man drew her interest.
But this man? The guy who accused her of not watching the girls closely enough. Granted, he was right, but did she want him holding that over her head? No. Plus, he carried the same baggage, probably more, that she did. Could she deal with his loss as well as her own?
But he had rescued Bridget. The least she could do was consider Max’s suggestion.
Soon, Max and Lilli moved on. Nealy went off to take care of some sort of problem in the kitchen, leaving Jenna alone again. She let out a sigh.
“Overwhelming, huh?”
Jenna smiled at the police chief, Bob Gardener, who everyone simply called the Chief. A tall bear of a man with gray hair and a genuine smile, he inspired confidence and respect in those around him.
“Nealy means well.”
“Think you’ll remember everyone’s name?”
She laughed. “I doubt it, but I’m sure the longer I’m here, the better I’ll get.”
“Stayin’ very long?”
She shot him a sideways glance. “Tryin’ to get rid of me already?”
He chuckled. “No, ma’am. Just like to keep a finger on what’s goin’ on in my town.”
“Hopefully the girls and I won’t give you any trouble. So far we’ve been law-abiding citizens. I don’t see us changing anytime soon.”
“Didn’t think you would.” He hesitated, as if getting his timing right. “Might be worried about others, though.”
Her stomach clenched. “Meaning?”
“Heard you had some trouble with a reporter back in LA.”
By the way he looked at her, Jenna knew he’d done more than just hear the news. “Then you know I have a restraining order. We came here to get away from him.”
He nodded. “If he does happen to show up in Cypress Pointe, I promise, he won’t be hassling you.”
Relieved to have someone in law enforcement on her side, she said, “I’m hoping that won’t happen, but with him...there’s no telling what he’ll do.”
“I’ll be ready.” He smiled, reassuring her again.
Before Jenna knew it, another hour flew by. Much as she appreciated the people who had come out to meet her, she wanted a few minutes to catch her breath. Maybe a walk by the outdoor pool would help.
She’d just started to head in that direction when she noticed Wyatt. When had he arrived? So busy chatting up her new neighbors, she’d missed him come in. Clean shaven, with his hair neatly combed, he was more handsome than she remembered. Her pulse leaped, despite her intention to remain unaffected by the man.
Tonight he dressed in a gray button-down shirt and black slacks, a far cry from his work clothes. He stood in a far corner of the room, clearly uncomfortable. She bit her lip. Should she go to him? Attempt small talk again? The decision was taken out of her hands when Max approached Wyatt, handing him a bottle of beer. They spoke briefly before Max rejoined his girlfriend. Curious, she watched as Wyatt looked down at the bottle then set it on a nearby table before walking outside.
Okay, she really should leave the man to his solitude, but when had she ever left a hurting person alone? Never. And she wasn’t about to start now. She strode across the room, grabbed the bottle and followed him outside.
* * *
WYATT TOOK A deep breath of the humid August air. He hadn’t shown up for any public gatherings since arriving in Cypress Pointe, and here he was with real shoes on, even though they pinched. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn anything but boat shoes.
He’d convinced himself that Jenna’s promise of her secret mac and cheese recipe drew him here, but he knew better. He simply wanted to see her again.
So far he hadn’t spoken to her. From the moment he arrived, she’d been monopolized by one person after another. Since he’d already had the pleasure of meeting her, he’d wait his turn.
Pleasure? As much as the word had become foreign to him, it fit meeting Jenna. Like no one had done in a long time, she piqued his interest. Was it because she understood what he was going through, having recently lost her friend? Most people didn’t get where he was coming from, couldn’t understand why he didn’t just buck up and face life without his son. She seemed to have a better insight into his state of mind.
Or was he intrigued by this single woman raising two girls on her own? He understood the sacrifice, worry and all-consuming joy of rearing a child. Knew that being a parent was a tough road. Admired her for attempting it on her own.
After engaging in conversation with people he hadn’t seen in a while, his shoulders had started to ache with tension. His chest had grown tighter still when his parents had joined him before he stepped outside.
“Wyatt, I’m so happy to see you,” his mother had said, hugging him. When he returned the gesture, she squeezed him again before drawing back, her gaze filled with concern. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine, Mother.”
“You’re eating? Sleeping?’
His father chuckled. “Liz, the boy looks healthy to me.”
“Don’t pretend you aren’t worried, Bryce. You’ve spent just as many hours wondering how Wyatt is doing as I have.”
“Both of you can stop worrying,” Wyatt said, trying to infuse humor into his tone. “I’m eating. Working.”
“But not sleeping?” his mother asked.
He sighed. “Mom, let it go.”
“I’m your mother. I never let go.”
Questioning his welfare was part of the dynamic he’d intentionally walked away from. What was wrong with him? They only wanted to help. Be a part of his life. They missed Jamie too. Still, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t respond to them. His father laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t push,” he said quietly.
His mother’s eyes filled with tears. What a rotten son he’d become. She stepped closer to his father as Wyatt began to withdraw.
“Can we at least meet for dinner sometime? If I promise not to interfere?”
“Sure. I’ll call you.”
“Promise?”
He forced a grin for his mother’s sake. “I promise.” Guilt and sorrow tugged at him. He hoped someday he would be capable of spending more than a few minutes with his folks, but right now he needed fresh air.
Leaving behind the party