One Look: A grumpy, single dad small town romance(78)

I loved Wyatt. If that were real and true and meant to be, I had to believe it would all work out in the end.

So, despite every fiber of my being screaming that it was wrong, that night, while I lay alone in my bed, I pulled up the Grinstead Casting Agency email and finally hit send before I cried myself to sleep.





33





WYATT





“You look like shit, big brother.” My little sister, Kate, smiled down at me as her hand slapped on my shoulder.

I scooted out from the booth at the café and rose to wrap her in a bear hug. Her wavy brown hair had gotten longer, and she looked a little too thin, but she was finally home.

“Ol’ Catfish Katie is back in Outtatowner!”

She shoved me hard in the shoulder. “Knock it off with that shit!” She looked around the café to see if anyone had heard me. “It’s Kate. Just Kate.”

“Yeah, okay.” She knew as well as I did that dumbass nicknames were about the only thing people remembered about you when you left. That and the time you stole your aunt’s car to do doughnuts in a parking lot just to accidentally break an axle when you lost control and slammed into the curb.

I grinned at her, remembering how afraid she was to tell Dad, and how I’d taken the heat for it so she could still go to prom.

She looked past me onto the pile of papers on the table. “So what are you frowning over?”

I glanced at my stack of notes and the half-drank, now-cold coffee that the server kept trying to refill. “Not much, paperwork for the season. The less-glamorous side of college ball.”

“Where’s the little nugget of yours?”

“Pickle’s with Tootie, getting supplies for the Little Miss Blueberry Pageant. Apparently she’s a shoo-in at the Blueberry Festival.”

Kate slid into the bench across the booth from me. “Seems like she’s settling in then.”

“Are you kidding? She’s practically the princess of Remington County.”

Kate plucked a french fry from my plate, bit it, and then frowned at how cold and mushy it was before dropping it back down and dusting the salt from her fingers. “And how about you?”

Horrible. Miserable. A total fucking moron.

“I’m fine.” I shrugged. “Busy.”

Kate grinned at me. She always was a shit stirrer. She pointed a long finger at me, swirling it in the air between us, and in her singsong voice she said, “I heard a rumor about you.”

I shook my head and pretended to look over the papers in front of me.

Kate sighed and planted her hands on her hips. “Fine. Be annoying. But I want to meet this girl who got the Wyatt Sullivan to fall head over heels in loooooove.”

Her words sliced through me like a lance, but I schooled my face into bored annoyance. “How long are you staying again?”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, whatever, you love me. So tell me about Lark.”

Just hearing her name was painful. It was like the single syllable cut off my air supply.

She had been gone for only two weeks, and it felt like I was slowly dying.

Lark got the job because of course she did. She’d cried while I’d put on a brave face and told her how proud I was of her.

Though I’d wanted to throw up, I’d held her in my arms and reassured her that we’d be here, in Outtatowner, waiting for her when she wrapped.

I’d wait my entire fucking life if I had to.

I’d offered to buy her a plane ticket, but she’d refused. Lark had said she needed her clothes, and not knowing exactly how long she would have to stay in LA, she’d thought it was best to drive out there. I’d disagreed and told her as much, but once she smiled sweetly and laid out her plan, I’d begrudgingly gone along with it.

It helped her case that she was on her knees when she’d pitched the idea, and that image had run on a loop in my head ever since.

But since she’d left, every time I thought about Lark—which was too damn much—I was convinced I was having a heart attack or a stroke, because there was a splinter lodged in my chest, and the incessant ringing in my ears didn’t seem to go away.

“Lark is good,” was all I could manage.

Katie squinted at me. She knew I was full of shit. “When will she be home for me to meet her?”

I shrugged. “Dunno.”

Lark and I texted every day and tried to connect over FaceTime, but the three-hour time difference made it difficult. Penny was also miserable without Lark, so anytime we did connect on the phone, Penny would take over and dominate the conversation. I didn’t have the heart to take those stolen moments from either of them. We also didn’t know when she’d be back, and that was the most torturous part of all.

“Well, you’re still a bucket of laughs.” Kate slapped her hands on the table and stood. “I’m going to meet Tootie over at the house.” She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. “You boys weren’t kidding—that place is a disaster waiting to happen. I guess we’re meeting some guy today to go over the work he’s going to do. Gotta run interference and make sure she doesn’t get hosed by the contractor.”

More accurately, it was Tootie running interference to make sure Kate didn’t blow a gasket. None of us had the balls to tell her that it was her weasel-nosed ex-boyfriend’s brother Beckett contracted for the work. It didn’t matter that he was Duke’s best friend; she was going to lose it. “Have fun.”