stay standing.

"Wild," he murmured, kissing the back of her head.

She shuddered at his husky tone. He was right.

She'd lost all control with him. If she would've had her arms wrapped around him, her nails would've dug into his back.

The phone trilled. She jolted, straightening. His cock slipped out of her.

"I need to get this. It could be my kids," he said.

She turned, pulling the bottom of her dress down to her thighs. Her heart racing at the interruption.

His belt buckle bounced against the buttons of his 501s as he crossed the kitchen and picked up the receiver. She turned around, reached in her dress, and put her breasts in her bra. Wiggling, she righted herself.

"Damnit. How long has he been gone?"

She turned at the raised tone from Wyatt.

He fisted his hand and banged the overhead cabinet. She picked up her panties and wiggled them on, knowing the night was over. With Wyatt's attention solely on the phone conversation, she tiptoed toward the living room.

Wyatt cleared his throat. She looked over her shoulder. He summoned her back with a crook of his finger.

She waited.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes." He frowned. "Yeah. Thanks."

He hung up the phone receiver and turned to her. "Travis ran off from my mom's house. I need to go look for him."

She pressed her hand to the front of her neck. "He ran away?"

"A habit he's started lately." He fastened his jeans and latched his belt. "The damn kid. I don't know what is going through his head lately."

"He lost his mom," she whispered.

He raised his gaze. "He'd lost her long before she'd died."

"I..." She bit down on her lip.

It was none of her business about his previous relationships, including the one with his children's mother. She could only go off how much she'd witnessed Jess hurting when she'd talked about losing her mom. During her time with his daughter, she recognized the signs of grieving.

Travis was younger and a boy, it was expected that he'd be angry and moody.

Wyatt walked to her and kissed her lips. "I need to go."

"Of course." She patted his chest. "Anything I can do?"

"Give me a raincheck, so I can finish what we started." He walked with her to the door.

She stepped out of the apartment and pushed him. "Go, go find your son."

He jogged to his motorcycle. She slowly walked to the sidewalk, keeping her gaze on Wyatt roaring out of the parking lot.

It was after two o'clock in the morning. A teenage boy should be asleep, safe in bed.

Chapter 9Joey

EMPTYING THE COIN CATCH on the front of the last washing machine, Joey zipped up the old canvas pouch her grandpa had always used to carry the money. She picked up the dirty rags she'd used to clean each machine and hauled everything out of the room in the rec center with her.

"Ms. Joey?" Arnold Baste set down his playing cards and motioned her over to the table.

She smiled at the older, long-time tenant. Mr. Baste had lived at the apartments for as long as she could remember. As a child, he'd played hours of Old Maid with her while her grandpa handled the chores.

"The dishwasher in my apartment is leaking again." Mr. Baste shifted and whispered, "If you need to wait, I can handwash the dishes with no problem. I've already shut off the water supply under the sink."

She put her hand on his shoulder. "I'll contact the plumber today and have him come out. If he thinks you need a new dishwasher, I'll make that happen."

"Bless you." Mr. Baste patted her hand. "Your grandpa would be proud of how you're taking care of everyone."

"I'm trying." She hugged him and whispered, "George is bluffing. Play your cards."

"I heard that." George glared at her but couldn't hide the amusement breaking the sternness of his mouth.

Mr. Baste guffawed, making his bushy mustache wiggle. "Love you, girl."

She walked away, smiling, and lugging the dirty laundry and coin bag in one hand. Outside, she stretched her back. It'd been a long day of doing the chores and taking care of the tenants. Mr. Baste wasn't the only one having a problem at the complex. Apartment B3 had a bathroom light flickering. The tenant in A2, who used to mow the grounds in exchange for a lower monthly rental rate during the summer, notified her he was moving next week. She met with two renters from two different apartments that had an ongoing fight over who got to park closest to the building.

Lately, she took on all the problems, grateful for the jobs that kept her mind busy. She hadn't seen Wyatt in over a week, and his absence took up a lot of her thoughts.

She understood he was probably busy with work and his kids, but she'd hoped to see him last Friday at Riverside Bar. While Charlie and the others hadn't requested anymore partnered games, she would've liked to have had Wyatt there.

As it was, she only watched him arrive home from work every night and disappear inside his apartment. She'd thought about going over and knocking on his door, just to say hi. But since he always approached her when his kids were at his mother's house, she thought it best to keep what happened between them...between them.

Cutting across the grass, she rounded the hedge that divided each apartment unit, and almost ran into Travis. Startled, she dropped the bag of dirty rags.

Looking twice at the boy, she smiled, having obviously frightened him, too. "I didn't see you."

Travis peeked out from behind the hedge. "I wasn't bothering anyone."

"I never said you were." She stepped around him and peered in the direction Travis was looking. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," he mumbled.

She spotted Wyatt outside the apartment. Her heart beat faster. He stood, arms crossed, broad shoulders spanning the sidewalk. Even from a distance, she could make out the hardness of his face.

"Are you in trouble?" she asked.

"No."

She glanced over her shoulder. "Then, why are you hiding from your dad?"

"I'm

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