Page 148 of Tempting Wyatt

I swallow the anger rising inside of me. Pull in a slow, deep breath. Old Man River means well. But today is not the fucking day.

I need the liquor, not the lecture. Or maybe it’s the whiskey not the wisdom. My drunk mind spins in dizzying circles.

“It’ll help enough,” I tell him, trying my damnedest to keep the coals inside me at a simmer instead of letting my rage flare in the small space between us.

He gives me a sad smile. “That’s what it wants you to think. That’s the lie we sell. But whatever’s got you twisted up inside will still be there tomorrow, son.”

No, she won’t.

He hands the bottle of bourbon over. Fucking finally.

I exhale the tension building inside me in one elongated breath.

“At least it will buy me some time,” I say on my way toward the door.

I’ll sleep in my fucking truck tonight. Make it to tomorrow. That’s all I need to do right now. I just have to keep my grip on my sanity until she’s gone.

It’ll all be better once she’s gone.

If I repeat the lie in my head enough times, maybe I’ll start to believe it.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

ivy

IT’S. JUST AFTER NINE in the morning when there’s a knock at the door. I’ve had about three hours of sleep and there’s a long drive ahead of me.

I pull it open, hoping it’s Wyatt, coming to explain himself and where he’s been.

But it’s Isaac, giving me a sad smile when he says, “Thought you might need a hand with your bags.”

I nod, open the door, and let him in. “Sorry, I haven’t made any coffee yet.”

The checkout time on the cabin rental agreement is 10:00 AM but Laurel had already convinced me to stay extra days and refused to let me pay. I knew I could probably ask for a later time if I wanted to sleep in, but after Wyatt had shut me out, it felt like I’d already overstayed my welcome.

“No worries,” he tells me as he sets his Stetson on the counter. “Wyatt would’ve come down, but he got, uh, held up this morning.”

There’s something false about the way he said it and I see the sympathetic look he’s giving me.

“And last night apparently.” I don’t know what I wasexpecting. I rented a cabin for two weeks. The two weeks are up.

This isn’t the dreaded third-act breakup with the contrived miscommunication that could be solved with a simple conversation. It’s just. . .goodbye. Just as we knew it would be from day one.

But so much has changed since then. And for some reason, Wyatt isn’t here to say goodbye. After he locked me out and ghosted me last night—my last night here—I shouldn’t be surprised.

And yet I am.

Schooling my features to hide the hurt, I lead Isaac to the two bags in the hallway. He takes them to his truck while I do one last sweep of the cabin to make sure I haven’t left anything behind. Except hurt feelings and a battered heart. Not that I had much more than that when I arrived, just what I’d grabbed from Malcolm’s in my haste to escape.

My time in Montana went too quickly. Something tells me all the time in the world wouldn’t have been enough with Wyatt Logan.

Just thinking his name sends a pang of loss through my chest.

We had an expiration date from the beginning, and yet I can’t stop searching for him.

I’m waiting.

Hoping.