One Look: A grumpy, single dad small town romance(6)

3





WYATT





“Boogertown?” Penny’s infectious giggles filled the back seat of the car.

My eyes rolled at the asinine name my grandparents had bestowed upon their own street.

Lee shifted so he could look at Pickle in the back seat. “You didn’t know? Aunt Tootie and Uncle Tater live down Boogertown Road.”

Penny laughed again. “Who would name it that?”

Lee’s smile widened. “They did. When they built their house at the end of this lonely road, Tater needed a name for it. He was going to name it Pic—”

“That’s enough.” I cut Lee off and shot him a hard stare. He didn’t need to tell my seven-year-old that our uncle almost named his road Pickledick Holler just to get a rise out of the mailman he hated so much.

Lee had the sense to look sheepish before crossing his eyes and making a funny face at Penny.

“Remind me again why you couldn’t have driven your truck here?” I asked my little brother.

After I put my car in park, he climbed out and opened Penny’s door. “And miss a second with this rat?” Penny leaped into his arms and pretended to gnaw at him like an actual rodent. “Not a chance.”

My chest pinched again.

Lee was cocky. Arrogant. He was a Sullivan, after all, but he was also good-natured. I often wondered if his happiness was a cover for the shit he’d seen when he was overseas, but he would never admit that. It was probably why he’d come back and immediately applied for a job with the fire department. That kid was always chasing the next adrenaline rush.

I huffed out a breath and felt old—really fucking grouchy and old—as I watched Lee bound up the steps of our aunt’s expansive farmhouse-style home.

The afternoon sun was fading on the horizon, but there was a stream of cars making their way down the long, tree-lined driveway. Tootie would host whoever came to pay their respects. Though I figured people mostly wanted to eat her food and gossip.

The once-white paint on the home’s exterior had faded to a dingy gray. The black shutters were faded and peeling too. As I climbed the steps, the wood groaned under my weight. I bounced once and was surprised when my foot didn’t fall through the rotting wood. I knew the old home was in need of a few repairs, but the more I looked, the more it seemed like the years of neglect and emptiness were taking its toll. I’d have to talk with Kate and my brothers about what we were going to do. Tootie couldn’t live in a house if it was unsafe.

“You coming in or just going to stand around looking lost?” Laughter was laced in Aunt Tootie’s voice. That woman had a zest for life, and no matter how many blows she took, she’d dust herself off and keep plugging away. To be honest, there were plenty of times I wanted to give up, but knowing she’d twist my ear, I trudged forward.

“Get up here.” Her arms spread wide, and I climbed the rest of the stairs to pull her into a hug. She was soft and warm. For a fraction of a second, I closed my eyes and tried to remember the last time I’d gotten a hug from anyone but Penny.

“Your father’s inside. He can’t wait to visit.”

My jaw clenched. “Good day?”

When I released her, Tootie’s eyes looked out over her yard and she smiled. “As good as any are these days, I suppose.”

Without another word, she left me to greet and hug the stream of people walking toward the house.

Inside, the house was bustling with activity. Many people who hadn’t bothered to attend the wake or funeral were filling Tootie’s home, gossiping and catching up on Outtatowner news. Many conversations revolved around the Kings and how they continued to buy up businesses in town. Another fight between a King and a Sullivan. Rumors about how Outtatowner was changing and the many ways it was somehow the Kings’ fault.

I cut through the crowd, purposely ignoring the eager smiles and wide-eyed recognition. Toward the back of the house, in the large living room, my father sat alone on the sofa. My stomach twisted. His arms were braced on his knees, and his unfocused gaze stretched out onto the carpet.

“Hi, Dad.” I cleared the gravel from my throat.

His head moved up, locking eyes with me, but behind them, there was no spark. No recognition.

So much for a good day.

“Hi.” Dad raked a hand down his face, his classic move when he was trying to hide the fact that he didn’t remember someone. “Good to see you.”

“Wyatt,” I provided.

“Wyatt. Yeah, I know. Good to see you, Wyatt. Damn shame about Bowlegs.”

I nodded and looked around for Penny or my brothers. I stood awkwardly in front of my father.

When I caught the eye of Duke, my oldest brother, from across the room, he excused himself from the conversation and strode toward me. His beard was longer than I remembered, and he looked pissed. More than usual, even.

Duke was the only person I knew capable of being a bigger dick than I was.

When he closed the distance between us, I held out my hand, and we shook.

“Glad you could find the time.”

“Been busy.”

“Sure.” Duke knew damn well I had obligations and a contract to fulfill. When I didn’t take the bait to argue with him, he turned his attention to Dad and handed him the glass of dark liquid in his hand. “Got this for you, Pop.”