She met his gaze, her own a little dazed. “You’re dog-whispering me like you do to your patients at work, where you go all silent and alpha pack leader, and wait for them to surrender to you and tell you all their woes.”
“I like the surrender part,” he said.
She pushed him but she didn’t mean it, and they both knew it.
“Okay,” she murmured. “You were, right, okay? Does that make you happy?”
“Yes, always,” he said. “But for the record, what am I right about, other than everything?”
A second push, and he laughed as he pulled her in against him. He hadn’t laughed in days. Christ, he’d missed her. Even though he’d seen her for eight to ten hours a day, he’d missed this.
Them.
Which meant he was totally screwed, of course, but in that moment, he didn’t care. Yeah, she had one foot out the door, so what. He’d survived it once, he’d survive it again. He pressed his lips to her jaw.
She shivered. “We said we’re not doing this anymore.”
“Actually, you said that. I didn’t sign on to the not doing this anymore program.” It was just about as revealing a statement as he could make without manipulating her into making a decision.
And he wasn’t about to do that.
Ever.
She went still, then dropped her head to his chest and banged it a few times.
“You could take it back,” he said.
She paused, like she really wanted to, but in the end she shook her head. “I can’t because Darcy was right. I’m wrong for you, Wyatt. And even if I wasn’t, I’m leaving.” Her face was a mask of misery. “I’m sorry but I’ve got to go.”
Twenty-four
At the morning’s staff meeting, Darcy brought donuts. She was working the rest of the week, helping Jade catch up. Everyone dug in including Emily.
Wyatt knew this because he was watching her, unable to take his eyes off her. She was currently two fisting matching chocolate donuts, digging into them like they might solve her problems.
After she’d left him the night before, he’d gone to AJ’s gym and worked himself into a near early grave. He’d needed to be beyond exhausted to sleep.
He hadn’t examined his feelings too closely, and he could tell by the way Emily was avoiding eye contact that she wasn’t any more eager to do so than him.
Which meant that they were just as messed up as ever.
The meeting covered the usual items on the itinerary, and at the end, when they’d all stood to head for the door, Dell looked at Emily.
“I took another call from the Beverly Hills animal center,” he said. “The head vet there wanted to remind me that her intern’s still unhappy. I reiterated how well you’ve worked out, and how lucky we are to have you.”
Wyatt looked at Emily, waiting for her to say how she’d give up her right nut, if she’d had one, to switch.
But she said nothing.
And he didn’t know what to make of that either, or the relief that swamped him.
That night, Emily made her weekly call to her dad. He’d apparently finally found his iPod, but then had gone on to lose his keys, having to call a locksmith to make a new set. He and the locksmith had traded services, and her father was going to give the guy’s three cats a checkup.
He’d also lost his wallet, and had bribed the lady at the DMV to putting him to the front of the line if he immunized her dog as a trade.
“Maybe you could actually charge people for your services sometime,” Emily said.
“But then I wouldn’t have a new key or my license.”
Emily didn’t know how to fight that logic. “Dad, what if I said I could come home sooner. I could help you out more.”
He laughed. “I think I’m beyond help.”
“But if I could—”
“Honey, you can’t. You know I’d love to have you here, and you will be. After you put in your time. Don’t worry about me. As long as my head’s still attached, I can’t lose that at least. But do you happen to know where my Kindle might be?”
After they hung up, Emily went to her computer. She wasted a few minutes with the usual time-wasting techniques like Facebook, and then the charity auction. She was still top bidder for Wyatt.
Since this made her feel like she was on a boat at sea, she closed her browser and brought up her e-mail.
She started a new e-mail to Dell. It took her an hour to get it right and even then she stared at it for a long time before she hit Send.
She went to bed, but instead of sleeping, she found herself staring at the ceiling while her gut churned.
Finally she tossed the covers back and headed to the kitchen, going for the frozen cookie dough in the freezer.
Sara found her half an hour later, eating the dough with a spoon right out of the container. “PMS or SMS?” she asked.
“SMS?” Emily asked.
“Stupid Man Syndrome,” Sara said.
“It’s more like stupid woman syndrome.” She paused. “The Los Angeles intern still wants to trade places.”
“Yeah?” Sara took a big hunk of cookie dough. “She tired of treating the pink Pomeranians and hairless cats of the rich and famous?”
“I guess her family lives in Idaho somewhere, and she misses them, she wants to be closer to home.”
Sara looked up, eyes sharp. “Wait— You’re serious?”
“Yeah.”
Sara set the cookie dough down. “You’re going to do it? You’re going to trade places and go back to L.A.?”
“Hello, have you been listening? She wants to come here for the same reason I wanted to stay in Los Angeles. We miss home. We miss Dad. We want to be closer to home.”
Sara gave a slow shake of her head.
“No?” Emily asked. “What do you mean no?”
“I mean there’s no we. I like Sunshine. You can see the stars at night. And I thought people would judge me, but as it turns out, there’s a huge shortage of lesbians here and I’m in huge demand. Everyone wants the token lesbian friend. And I thought you were coming to like it, too. You’re back with Dr. Sexy—” She broke off at whatever she saw on Emily’s face. “You’re not?”
“No.”
“But on your first date, you came home with your panties in your pocket.”
“It’s not what you think,” she said softly.
“Emily.” Sara looked distressed, for her. “Are you sure?”
She thought of what Wyatt had said that first night they’d gone to dinner: You’re not the only one thrown off their axis here, Emily. We never intended to see each other again. Hell we didn’t even know each other’s last names. And that worked for me.
It had been a month and a half, and never once in all that time had he alluded to changing his mind. There was no future for them. It wasn’t because he was a commitment-phobe either—he’d been engaged. Which brought her to her last problem—the expression on his face every time Caitlin’s name came up. He’d loved her. Maybe still did for all she knew. He hadn’t let Emily in enough to discuss it with her. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sure.”
“You really shouldn’t make any hasty decisions on this. Give it some time before you talk to your boss—”
“I e-mailed him.” Emily gestured to the laptop sitting so innocuously on the kitchen table. “I told him I’d switch.”
Sara just stared at her, disappointment and frustration clear. And worry.
“I know,” Emily said. “It’s risky.”
“No,” Sara said with a slow shake of her head. “The risk would’ve been to stay.”
Dell was gone when Emily got into work, working one of the ranches he’d contracted with up north. She waited for Wyatt to say something about the internship, about the switch, but he didn’t.
The reason for that didn’t feel good. She wasn’t sure if he was relieved, happy, or just plain indifferent about her decision. He’d been damn careful to keep things in the moment.
She needed to do the same.
When she got home that night, she fed Sammy, Q-Tip, and Woodrow, and then opened the fridge for herself. She was standing there staring at its contents when Woodrow went to the back door and whined.