My jaw tightens as I look at him, already working on his second roll. If only he wasn抰 so far up his own ass. I could at least protect him from being preyed on by vultures and punk-ass kids willing to rob homeless vets for drug money.
I抳e made the same offer a million times. Now that he抯 one leg short, will he finally be more open? Will he swallow his pride?
揧ou know I抳e got an entire heated guesthouse and no company,?I say slowly. 揑f you want to crash, you could棓
揘o,?he spits back, giving me a scorned look.
There抯 nothing I will ever hate about this man except for his suicidal ego.
Hell, the rejection was out like a shot, before I even finished. That抯 faster than usual.
揑t抯 detached. It would be like having your own place,?I say, not ready to give up. 揑t sits there whether anyone uses it or not. Sometimes I wonder why I have the damn thing when nobody visits.?
He shakes his head like I抦 forcing a ghost pepper up his nose.
揟ry your charity on somebody else, Burns. There are folks here with reasons to live who need a good sleep and a hot shower a whole lot more than I do, like Miss Green Thumb a few tents down. You want to help, offer it to her. I抦 beyond that shit. Don抰 need it. I like my tent and washing off at the Y just fine.?
I let out a frustrated growl. I can抰 fucking help it.
I can抰 help how seeing him give up rips me in two.
Yeah, it抯 no surprise. I knew he was sailing into rough waters the minute he wound up on the streets. I抳e also never heard him sound quite so sure about being done until now.
It抯 not him. He抯 a fighter by nature.
He was, I should say, before that evil bitch destroyed him.
Before he began the slow, agonizing fall into the black pit of misery he抯 in now.
He抣l never get over her, and he can抰 pull his life back together until he does.
揕ook, Wyatt. I抦 not here to save you from yourself. We抳e both been through hell together. All I抦 offering is a break from all this for a day, a week…whatever. Take a vacation and come back here recharged. There抯 no good fucking reason why you can抰 crash in my vacant guesthouse so we can have drinks together at the end of the day, and you know it.?
He snorts dismissively.
揥e can do that anyway. You抮e here now. No point in me mooching off my best friend or stinking up space someone else could use. Your rich neighbors and maid are gonna think you抳e lost your mind, moving some random homeless guy in. And fuck, your mom棓
揧ou抮e not some random homeless guy,?I say sharply. 揧ou抮e my best friend. I wouldn抰 be here without you.?I inhale sharply, feeling ghostly vibrations ripping through solid bone from that day. Even my muscle memory is keenly aware I抎 be six feet under without Wyatt Emory. 揧ou saved my life and you can抰 even crash at my place for a single night??
He shakes his head like a bull, pulling at his wiry beard.
揑t抯 nothing. If shit went the other way, you would抳e saved me too. You don抰 even have to keep up with the cinnamon rolls or my life. Hell, I don抰 even want to keep up with my life.?
That抯 obvious, and a deep, toxic depression talking. I wish I could somehow reach inside him and rip it out of him like a parasite worm.
I hate that he抯 his own worst enemy.
Always too proud to accept any help.
Only, now I抦 afraid he might be too scarred, too damaged to ever consider it.
Where the hell does that leave me trying to help him?
Do I just throw my hands up and watch a good man die?
Should I bother continuing this conversation?
I hold in a sigh because I抦 afraid I抣l exhale my soul. Talk is cheap, and tonight, it抯 damn near worthless.
I doubt it gets us anywhere, except for frustrating Wyatt more, causing him to dig his lonely heel into the ground.
My eyes flick over him, cool and assessing.
Part of me says make him get back on his feet. Just haul him off in a headlock and get him help. I抦 sure Louis would help me wrestle him into the back seat.
He抯 on one leg and losing a few more pounds of muscle every month, even if he抯 still as strong as a pit bull.
It抯 not like he could run, but the only thing that抯 kept the poor SOB alive this long is his damn stubborn pride. His agency.
Take that from him梙owever well intended梐nd he might break forever.
I reach in my pocket and pull out a phone, holding it out to him.
揑f you won抰 come home with me, at least take this. It抯 prepaid and has a lot of minutes on it.?
He stares at it silently. He doesn抰 reach for it.
揇amn you, Wyatt. Take it. Keep it handy, just in case you need to call me or have an emergency. It抯 no big deal. I got a deal on it when I upgraded my phone, and yours broke a long time ago.?
He stares into the fire for a minute before he reaches out and grabs the phone.
Thank God.
揗y number抯 pre-programmed in the contacts. Number one. Call me anytime,?I say.
He doesn抰 answer.
We sit there in silence for a while together, two old souls set in their ways like concrete.
It抯 getting late. I should go. But how will he even get back in the tent on one leg without crawling? If I ask, he抣l bite my head off.
Maybe if I sit here long enough, he抣l ask for help.
He doesn抰， though, and eventually I take the hint and leave.
As I抦 heading back to my town car on the curve, I wish the rain was colder. It can抰 dampen the hot fury lashing around inside me.
揑 hope you抮e happy wherever you are, Olivia, you backstabbing fuck.?I growl to no one, my fist tightening as I picture Wyatt抯 ex.
That抯 another thing we have in common, even if he took more damage from his cheating ex.
As the rain picks up, I mutter a dark prayer to Mother Karma.
Just this once, I wish that a good man who抯 suffered so much could find some relief.
I also wish prayers actually came true.
Monday morning, I get to the office before eight a.m.
There抯 already a draft of new ad copy from Miss Poe waiting in my Inbox.
If she thinks a rushed job warrants her salary, she has another thing coming. I抣l bring her in and set her straight. I open the document, almost salivating at the opportunity to rip it apart and haul her into my office to chew her out.
Hold the drool.
I blink at the screen, seeing neat lines of ads mocked up with punchy phrases and paired with eye-catching images.
It抯 damn good. Spotless, in fact.
There isn抰 anything to sink my teeth into. I can抰 be disappointed at a job well done.
At least my hiring decisions are spot on, even when they involve a pastry thief in a seductive black dress.
Regardless, I have a meeting scheduled with her today so we can clear the air. I抦 not interested in leaving either of us languishing in a hostile work environment梟o matter if she抯 eighty percent responsible for said hostility.
Yeah, I won抰 admit I抦 to blame for how we started out.
This line needs talent, focus, and zero distractions. Something tells me she won抰 be the one to swallow her pride and make peace.
Time to step up and be the leader everyone respects around here.
If I抦 lucky, I抣l win her respect, too. She might start looking at me like I抦 the boss instead of an inquisitor holding her salary hostage.
Fifteen minutes later, she steps into my office. Her slender legs, curvy hips, and annoyingly luscious ass are outlined in fitted black slacks today.
Her full breasts are hugged by a sparkling silver blouse that yanks my eyes to the tightly formed V on her chest, straight to her cleavage.