at your house, I think the interviews should take place here.”
“Okay.” She sipped her coffee, then smiled. “Want some cocoa bites?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
They called the four candidates Missy deemed best suited for her company, and set up interviews for Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.
Wyatt sat with her through the interview for the first candidate, Mona Greenlee, a short, squat woman who clearly loved food. But after a comment or two at the beginning of the meeting, he stopped talking and let Missy ask her questions, give Mona a tour of the house and introduce her to the kids.
Mona laughed about how unusual it was to bake from a house, but Missy assured her that her kitchen had passed inspection. After she left, Wyatt headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
He turned slowly. When he finally caught her gaze, she saw a light in his eyes that caused her heart to stutter. His focus fell from her eyes to her mouth, then rose again.
“You can handle these interviews on your own.”
Though complimented by his faith in her, she got a funny feeling in her stomach. Was he leaving because he was thinking about kissing her?
Remembering the kiss from Saturday made her stomach flip again. That was one great kiss. A kiss she wouldn’t mind repeating. But they’d been attracted to each other right from the beginning and they’d managed to work together in spite of it. Wanting to kiss shouldn’t cause him to leave.
“You don’t want to help?”
“You’re fine without me.”
But I like spending time with you. I like your goofy comments. I like you.
The words swirled around in Missy’s head so much, she almost said them. But she didn’t. First, the intensity of her feelings surprised her, and she needed to think them through. Second, if she’d grown so accustomed to having him around that she didn’t mind having him neb his nose into her business, then maybe things had gone further than she wanted them to.
He didn’t want a relationship. She didn’t want a fling. It was better not to encourage these feelings. And maybe he was right. They shouldn’t spend so much time together.
She did the next interview alone and didn’t have a problem until Jane Nelson left. Then she scurried outside to find Wyatt. Not to ask for help, but to talk. To tell him about Jane. To show him that she could handle all this alone, and how excited she was.
But when she walked into the backyard where he was playing Wiffle ball with the kids, he barely spoke to her. He complimented the job she had done interviewing Jane, but he didn’t ask questions or go into detailed answers. He was distancing himself from her.
Disappointment followed her back into the house. She didn’t need him, but suddenly everything she did felt empty without him.
At the end of the next two interviews, she didn’t bother looking for Wyatt, but that didn’t stop the emptiness. After so many weeks of having him underfoot, it seemed wrong that he was pulling away from her.
Except he’d be leaving in a few days. Maybe he was preparing them both?
That would be okay, except she didn’t want to be prepared. She wanted to enjoy the last few days she had with him. What was the point of starting the empty feeling early? It would find a home in her soon enough, when he really did leave.
Thursday evening she offered Elaine Anderson the job. She’d blended in best with the chaos and the kids, and was able to start immediately.
To celebrate, Missy made fried chicken, and sent Owen over to get Wyatt. She knew that was a tad underhanded, but after several days of not seeing him, she was tired of wasting the precious little time they had left together. Plus, spending a few days without him had forced her to see that she liked him a lot more than she thought she did. So tonight she intended to figure out what was really going on with him.
If he was upset about their kiss and didn’t want to repeat it, she would back off.
But if he was struggling with jealousy and the lines they’d drawn about their relationship, maybe it was time to change things. He didn’t want a relationship. She didn’t want a fling, but surely they could find a compromise position? Maybe agree to date long distance for a few months to see if this thing between them was something they should pursue.
He strolled over to the picnic table behind bouncing Owen, who was thrilled to be getting his favorite fried chicken, and in general thrilled with life these days. She no longer worried about his transition after Wyatt left. With money to put the kids in day care for four hours every morning, she knew Owen would find friends. Her life was perfect.
Except for the empty feeling she got every time she thought about Wyatt leaving.
But tonight she intended to set this relationship onto one course or another. Either ask him to work something out with her or let him go. And then stick by that decision.
“I hope you like fried chicken.”
He reached for two paper plates, obviously about to help her dish up food for the kids. “I don’t think there’s a person in the world who doesn’t like fried chicken.”
Watching him help Owen get his dinner, she pressed her lips together. There was so much about Wyatt that was likable, perfect. And she wasn’t just talking about his good looks, charm and sex appeal. He liked her kids. Genuinely liked them. Plus, with the exception of the last wedding, they always had fun together. They understood each other.
Hell, he was the first person—the only person—to know her whole story. It didn’t seem right that this had to end.
She put three stars on the plus column for a relationship. He liked her kids. He was fun to be around. He knew her past and didn’t think any less of her for it.
They settled on the worn bench seats, said grace and dug into dinner.
He groaned with ecstasy.
She smiled. Whoever said the way to a man’s heart was his through stomach must have known tall, perpetually hungry Wyatt.
“This is fantastic.”
“Just a little something I can whip up at a moment’s notice.” Not that she was bragging, but it never hurt to remind him that she wasn’t just a businesswoman and mother. There were as many facets to her as there were to any of the women he dated in Florida. She smoothed her palms down the front of her shorts. After cooking the chicken, she’d changed into her best pink shirt, the one her former coworkers told her bought out the best in her skin tones. And thinking of the bikini-clad beach bunnies he probably met in Florida, she was glad she looked her best. But sitting across from him, acknowledging the realities of his life, she fought the doubts that beat at her brain.
How did a thirty-three-year-old mother of triplets compete with beach bunnies?
Should she even try?
Wasn’t she setting herself up for failure?
They ate dinner with Owen
