Little White Lies

Wyatt?” She tried to break free but a tremble took hold.

“Did he say why?” Cael asked.

Charley shook her head and closed her eyes. She pulled away from James’s grip.

He held tight.

“It’s not my place to make him stay, James. He’s got his own life.”

“That’s bullshit, Charley, and you know it. We just had this conversation.”

She yanked her arm out of his grip. “We can do this with or without Wyatt.” Before she could get two feet away, she stopped at Stuart’s garbled words. “What did you say?”

“I said, Wyatt saw you kiss James.” He bit into an apple.

Charley stood at his toes, her face inches from his, she poked one finger into his chest. “When?”

“When you were talking by yourselves.”

“And what did you say when he told you what he saw?” Charley asked in a tone Stuart would know meant his life could be in jeopardy if not answered to her satisfaction.

“I said ‘So?’”

“So?”

“Yeah. So.” He shrugged and took another bite of his apple.

The spray from the break hit her cheek, carrying with it a fresh scent that might have relaxed her if not for the circumstances in which it happened. Charley closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, she let the real her show through.

The apple crunched as it broke apart. “You know that doesn’t spook me.”

“And you should know that I have far greater strength when I’m seriously pissed.”

“Ooh. Now I’m scared.” Stuart waved the half-eaten fruit. “So go after him.”

“No.”

“Why not? You can even take my car.” He inclined his head toward the door.

“No.”

“Scared he’ll run from you? Won’t understand? You haven’t told him much yet, have ya?”

She let her eyes turn back to a less ethereal color. “No.”

“Then you’re scared. That’s a new one for you, Charley.”

She turned to walk away.

“Go to him, Charley,” Lily said from the doorway between the rooms.

“Go, Charley,” James said.

She looked to Cael, who nodded at her and then to Sophie, who did the same despite having missed some of the day’s events under a pain-killer-induced fog.

Stuart yanked his car keys from his pocket.

Charley waved him away. “I can get there myself, I just need-”

Lily walked and stood in front of her. “Don’t think it through. Go to him. Let him know that you love him, that you’ve never loved anyone else in all your years. Show him, don’t tell him.”

With her resolve firm, she started for the garage. “Uh… wait. Where does he live?”

“In the Victorian where we met him the first time,” James said.

Charley’s brows lifted. “Are you kidding?”

“It’s his. He earned it,” Stuart said.

With keys in hand, Charley grabbed her purse and coat and jumped in her car. The engine revved and purred as she backed out. Her GPS estimated a twenty-minute drive.

Should I call first? No. Lily said to just go. Maybe I should text him. No, that would be obvious.

Day had changed to dusk with the twinkle of stars overhead beginning their celestial display.

What am I going to say? What if he rejects me? Too many stop signs, blinking lights and ten roads later, she found herself at his gate. “How do I get in?”

Her cell beeped. She flipped it over and read the text: six-five-four-three-two-two.

Charley typed in the code, and the gates ground open. She inched toward them as they separated, impaired by a lack of patience.

Lily said to just go.

She whipped around the circular drive toward the expanse of the house, dark beneath the cover of ancient trees. Outdoor lights popped on as she strode to the door and rapped the lion’s-head knocker once. She hit it three more times with no result.

She rapped again and heard, “Coming!” from a female voice.

He hooked up with someone in the hour since he left?

As the door creaked open, Sheila peered out. “Can I help you?”

“I need to see Wyatt.” Charley’s tone took on a dangerous edge.

Sheila cinched her robe tighter. “I’m sorry, but he’s not here.”

“Bullshit.” Charley pushed the door and knocked Sheila to the side. “Where is he?”

“Where is who?” Wyatt asked.

***

Wyatt had heard the gates as they opened, Sheila’s rush to the door, and the metal clang that resonated each time the hammer hit the lion’s head. He’d only had time to change into his draw-string pants and a T-shirt before Charley’d waited at his door. Why she sought him out, he didn’t know. She stood, framed by the doorway, her fists at her sides.

He offered Sheila his hand as she staggered back up from Charley’s forceful entry. “Are you okay?” He directed his question to Sheila.

When she aimed a warning glare in Charley’s direction, Wyatt smirked. A little taste of your own medicine, perhaps?

“I’m going… away.” Sheila waved a hand in Charley’s direction and marched away from the foyer.

“I didn’t make a very good first or second impression, did I?” Charley asked.

“I think… no. Why are you here, Charley?”

She took a step, hesitated, and stood again in the middle of the door.

“You can come in if you’d like.” Wyatt motioned her forward.

She did but by no more than a foot. “I came to tell you that you’re a moron.”

He laughed. He’d planned to remain civil and impassive when he returned the next day. “That I know. I’ve known for sixteen years, in fact-through all the time I searched for you but couldn’t find you. In all the places I went hoping-maybe. The assignments I took that proved dangerous and difficult, just to see if you might be there. I had high hopes, loads of dreams-and then you showed up on my doorstep one day, all but gift wrapped, and I nearly missed you.”

He stood, waited. When she said nothing, he continued. “And then I see you with James. You love him. I get that. He’s right there. He’s of your kind. Did you want to rip out my heart and feed it back to me?”

Her eyes grew wide.

“So you know I saw. Stuart told you, I presume.” Wyatt moved to the edge of a chair and rested one hip on its arm.

Charley remained in the doorway.

“Do you want to stay and chat or are you going to leave me again for… what would that be? A third time? No, maybe a fourth.” He tapped his cheek with his finger. “Fifth, now? I lose count.”

Charley closed her eyes before she turned back to Wyatt. “James is my lifelong friend. He’s been with me and will remain so until either of us passes from this world.”

“I don’t think he thinks that,” Wyatt said.

Charley raised an eyebrow. “Oh… I can promise you he does.”

“You’re wrong.” He’d hit the mark.

Her lips firmed, struggling with what he assumed to be outrage or denial? When she turned around, his own heart skipped a beat.