Page 28 of Breathless

She had. She’d told Wyatt she needed freedom to make her own decisions. To not be tied down to a promise she wasn’t sure either one of them could keep. But like an idiot, he’d been sure she’d come around. She was too much of a romantic not to.

And he loved her.

That solves everything, does it?

Every time she teared up at a Finn wedding or reunion, every time she held one of the new babies, he’d been more certain she was just sowing her wild oats and that she’d eventually settle down with him.

He used to think it was impossible to be with, or be in love with, more than one person at a time. All he’d ever wanted, if he let himself imagine wanting, was what Uncle Shawn and Aunt Ellen had. Making a home and raising a family together. Still holding hands at your youngest kid’s wedding. That was love.

He could have gone the rest of his life without knowing that the perfect twosome had temporarily been three—with his father, no less. Kids should never know shit like that about their parents.

Noah said having the details made it easier to understand Elder’s personality, but Wyatt didn’t care about the whys. As far as he was concerned, their father had made the choice to be a dick. He’d chosen to be alone instead of sharing Ellen with his twin brother Shawn, and he’d regretted it.

He’d chosen to marry three times, but never found what he was looking for with any of them, because he was looking for a replacement instead of someone to love. He’d had sons with each of those wives and, through death or the court system, he’d chosen to retain sole custody of them all. But his reasons were based on pride and vanity. He’d never been happy about it. Wyatt’s mother had been Elder’s third strike. After that he’d chosen to stay single and put all his energy into raising his sons in his image.

He’d chosen wrong, and in the end, he’d failed. None of them was anything like that narrow-minded bigot, and that was a choice, too. Rory had found love with his two guys. His brother Brady had Ken, and Solomon had Hugo. Noah was still single, but a short, passionate fling had resulted in his son, Zachary, and he was already ten times the father Elder had ever been.

James was, well, still James as far as he knew. Wyatt had gotten a postcard from Florida a few months ago that just said, “I’m fine.” But James had resigned from the force and actually left the state, so at least he was trying something new.

Wyatt was the only one who hadn’t changed at all. He was still the bachelor who lived with his brother. He still hung out with his family and the friends he’d made at the firehouse. He still mostly enjoyed what Rory called his three favorite things; beer, porn and fighting fires. He’d chosen to avoid change at all costs.

Until he’d accepted Thoreau’s invitation and come here.

When he was alone in that hospital room after Noah had turned him away, hadn’t he determined to try something new? To live a bigger life? Because the one he’d seen flashing before his eyes in that fire wasn’t one he could keep living without regrets. Regrets that might turn him into the one man he never wanted to be compared to.

“I also happen to think there’s strength in numbers,” Thoreau added into the silence, as if he could feel Wyatt considering what he’d said. “Whether you acknowledge it or not, you and I are on the same team. The one that wants Fiona to be happy, surrounded by friends and family. The one that wants her to stick around for good.”

Was he really thinking what he thought he was thinking? Wyatt stepped away from Thoreau and sat down heavily on the couch. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before looking up again. “A team, huh?”

Thoreau came over and sat on the coffee table across from him. “You need to give me a minute. You never say what I’m expecting you to. I was sure my genius plan to shock some sense into you had backfired and I was going to have to explain to Fiona why you’d booked a flight to Canada. I don’t think I’m as good at this as I thought. Maybe I should stick to brewing beer and leave the psychology to Fiona.”

“I wouldn’t say it backfired, though Canada is tempting.” Wyatt shook his head. “You definitely shocked me. Seeing your dick was not even on my list of potential weird shit that could happen today. Or ever,” he added, chuckling despite himself.

Thoreau grinned and ducked his head.

“Trou drop might have been over the line. I’ll give you that and I’m sorry,” he laughed self-consciously. “It was for a good cause.”

“Yeah, okay, as long as we sign a blood pact to never mention it again. After you tell me how this was supposed to go down. You know, without the unnecessary dick brag,” he waved his hand absently at Thoreau’s impressive package. “Talk to me like I’m a dumb jock.”

“I would, if you were,” Thoreau countered. “I was just thinking if we could hash this out between us first, get comfortable with each other, then we could give her what it is she seems to want. Call her bluff.”

“Both of us,” Wyatt responded grimly. “Yeah, I don’t think she’s bluffing about that.”

“Neither do I. But she doesn’t believe it could happen either. Both of us working together. No jealousy, no competition and no ego. Just Fiona in the middle.”

“Teamwork makes the dream work?” Wyatt asked with a disbelieving snort, remembering the flaming poster from the fire.

“That’s the plan. Well, phase two of it, anyway.”

It was funny, but when he put it like that, Wyatt actually got it. He was wired for it. He’d literally been raised to be part of a team. Granted, the man who’d trained him had been a soulless homophobe who hadn’t had this kind of team in mind, but the lessons still ran deep.

James and some of the others chafed against relying on anyone but themselves, preferring to go their own way. But Wyatt didn’t like to be alone. He never had. In fact, the only thing he’d ever wanted just for himself was Fiona.

Fiona, who needed more than one other person on her team.

Had he been looking at it all wrong? Torturing himself because he never seemed to be enough for her instead of seeing himself as a necessary part of a whole?

Had he been reading too many of Fi’s self-help books?

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