Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(26)
My phone vibrates.
Iris
Hey! How was your day?
About as good as I expected. What are you up to?
Her text comes back a minute later after Isabelle stops by to take my order.
Iris
Watching Declan cook dinner.
At least one of us is having a home-cooked meal tonight.
You sound jealous.
Maybe because I am. Not of Iris and Declan per se, but of how my situation compares to theirs. I know it’s not right. It makes me feel sick to be anything but happy for them. But there is this part of me—one I rarely like to acknowledge—that wishes I had what they had.
I want to be happy. I try so damn hard, yet no matter how big I smile or how loud I laugh, I always feel empty. It’s a cold, creeping feeling that consumes me late into the night, until I’m forced to welcome my old frenemy.
Addiction.
My phone buzzes from an incoming text.
Iris
He just burned himself taking the bread out of the oven and then proceeded to curse in five different languages.
My sadness dissipates with a laugh.
Shouldn’t you be helping him?
Iris
We’re a modern couple, Cal. He cooks. I watch. He cleans. I also watch.
Is that the key to a successful marriage?
Iris
That and a big dick.
I choke on my sudden inhale of air.
“I thought it was you sitting here but I wanted to make sure.”
I look up at Wyatt, whose body casts a shadow over my phone. His dark hair peeks out from underneath his deputy hat, teasing the edge of his uniform collar.
“Wyatt.” My teeth grind together.
He tips his hat like a gentleman, tempting me to knock it off his head. “I heard you were back.”
“Alana told you?”
He shakes his head. “Cami.”
Of course she did. “What do you want?”
“Just thought I would stop by and give you a warm Lake Wisteria welcome.”
I cock a brow. “Is there such a thing?”
“Everyone here is good people.”
“So long as you don’t piss them off,” I grumble.
The crackle of Wyatt’s cop radio interrupts us, and he adjusts the volume with a quick turn of the knob. “Speaking about that…I wanted to warn you to stay away from Alana and Cami.”
“A warning? How utterly unoriginal.”
He leans forward while holding on to his holster with a tight grip. “Do you have a death wish?”
“No, although I’m sure you would be more than willing to put a bullet in my head. After all, you didn’t mind stabbing me in the back as soon as I left.”
His eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
“You and Alana.”
“What about us?” He doesn’t even blink.
“How long did it take you to go after my girl?”
“She’s not your anything.”
My fingers dig into the soft flesh of my palms. “Alana might be yours now, but I’ll always be her first in every way that counts.” First kiss. First love. First heartbreak. No matter how hard Wyatt tries, he will never be able to erase our history, even long after I leave this godforsaken town for the final time.
With the way he stares at me, it feels as if he is reading my soul. “Are you…jealous?”
“Jealous of you? What for?” I give him an unimpressed once-over.
“My question exactly.” His lips curve upward, only stoking my irritation like one would fan a flame.
Isabelle arrives with my burger, saving me from Wyatt and his perceptive stare.
I gesture toward my plate. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather eat my dinner in peace without your toxic masculinity stinking up the place.”
“Of course. Nice seeing you, Percival.” He tips his hat.
Him calling me by my middle name reminds me of too much, all at once. My stomach churns, and the food in front of me becomes inedible.
I flip him off. “Fuck you, Eugene.”
“I think I’ll fuck Alana instead, but thanks for the offer.” He winks.
The bastard. My right eye twitches.
“Maybe I’ll even go there tonight.” His eyes brighten. “It’s not like you could hear us all the way from the guesthouse, right?”
I always kept my aggression on the ice and away from others, but all it takes is Wyatt grinning at me, talking about fucking Lana, to tip me over the edge.
I bolt from my seat and reach for him. Either I’m out of practice or he learned some new moves because I end up slammed against a table, my hands cuffed behind my back within five seconds flat. It’s embarrassing how quickly he takes me down, so I’m grateful only five people bear witness.
As if she read my mind, Isabelle holds up her cellphone and snaps a photo. If that ends up on the internet, Declan will hang me by the Dreamland flagpole for all the park visitors to see.
Wyatt pulls me up and shoves me toward the diner entrance. “Welcome back, asshole.”