Snowflakes in Seattle

Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

OLIVE

W yatt’s big hands glided gently over my body as we came down. My blissed-out brain had just exploded with hearts and stars and Lisa Frank colors.

My Olive.

“Fuck,” he gasped, straightening.

Cool air flooded across my back. God, I’d miss his warmth when I left. I’d miss everything.

I stood up too, groaning as we came apart after, truly, the hottest sex of my life.

“Oh, no,” he moaned. “I didn’t use a condom. Shit, I’m so sorry, Olive.”

I knew we hadn’t, but I wasn’t as spooked as he seemed to be. I turned, pulling him into a hug.

“I’m on the shot and had a test a couple of weeks ago. How about you? Do I need to be worried?”

He let out a relieved breath. “No. I’m clear, too. I just know you have plans, boss. Big, important plans. I’d hate to be the guy who got in your way.”

A baby was in my plans, eventually. I wanted a career and a family. I wanted to create a working environment that allowed that balance for women who wanted the same.

I squeezed him tighter, touched he was thinking of my future. “We’re good, old man.”

With another sigh of relief, he patted my bum, then disappeared, returning a few moments later with tissues.

“That was…I can’t think of an adjective strong enough,” he told me.

“Same,” I smiled.

He cleaned me up just as gently as he’d caressed me. I skimmed his bowed back with light fingers until movement across the lake brought my attention away from Wyatt’s naked, crouching form.

I nudged him. “The fireworks have started.”

“Hell, yeah!”

This man and his holidays.

Grabbing my hand, he led me around to the front of the couch this time. He sat first, pulling me down on his lap and covering us both in my favorite blanket. Dazzling lights arced from the Space Needle in all directions, the colors and bright glow bouncing off the windows of the buildings around it.

The magic never seemed to stop here.

We watched in comfortable silence, my heart happy and heavy at once. I was ringing in the new year with Wyatt Parker. Naked. Teenage Olive couldn’t have imagined the depth of feelings swirling inside grown-up Olive right now. Marianas Trench deep, the pull just as strong. Teenage Olive would have thrown her arms around her crush and stayed. But I couldn’t do that.

The fireworks finale was bright and dazzling and made me glow. Or maybe that warm feeling came from the man holding me so tenderly after wrecking me so thoroughly.

I climbed off his lap when the show ended, taking the blanket with me. I’d dabbled in exhibitionism earlier tonight, and it’d been thrilling and sexy. No need to keep tempting fate, though. Or Gregg.

Heading toward the bedroom, I paused at the doorway to the kitchen. A portrait hung on the wall that I’d been meaning to ask about. There’d just been so many other things to do and discuss over the past week. But a studio portrait of Wyatt holding a houseplant had to come with a story.

“What’s with this picture?” I asked.

Still on the couch, Wyatt smiled ruefully. “We had pet portraits done one year for the office. I brought my fiddle-leaf fig in to be funny.”

My eyes moved back to the portrait, where Wyatt gazed adoringly at the potted plant in his arms. Then I looked again at the man smiling at me from the couch.

I saw many layers at once. Beautiful and rugged. Gentle and rough. Demanding and oh so giving. Mine, yet here. Tears blurred my vision. These feelings I had were more than a crush.

I was Beyoncé-level crazy in love with Wyatt Parker.

I mean, part of me had known that I loved him. The word had been tapping on my shoulder, trying to get my attention. I’d ignored it because how ? So quickly? But this one week had validated my two-decade crush. The man was simply worthy of all my feelings for him.

“I know.” Wyatt’s deep voice cut into my spiraling thoughts. “It’s dorky.”

I shook my head. The portrait was adorable, and so indicative of his heart.

“Then what’s that face?”

I could confess. Honesty was our kink. But this time, I didn’t. Despite doodles and daydreams, Wyatt and I wouldn’t work. One of us would have to give up our family, and our family business. Sure, Wyatt didn’t want to run Vertex, but that didn’t mean he wanted to leave Vertex. It was his company. His legacy. His parents and his home were in Seattle, too. And I wasn’t willing to give up my trajectory at Blake, not even for a man or a place full of magic. Owning the company meant too much to me, and so did the community of women I’d started rallying around me.

For the first time with him, I deflected. “This is just my post-O face. Thought you’d be used to it by now.”

He shook his head slowly, desire darkening his gaze. “Gonna need to see all stages of your O-face at least one more time before you go, little Olive.”

“Then get moving.” I tilted my head toward the bedroom, letting sass into my voice. “Wasting time, old man.”

My stomach twisted itself into one huge knot as I packed my bag the next morning. I’d gotten a bit too comfortable here, if my strewn-about underwear and beauty products were any indication. A bit too cozy with the scruffy contractor of my fantasies. I’d even put my mark on his bedroom, for Christ’s sake. Why had I created my ideal boudoir just to leave it behind? A tear escaped when I folded my snowflake pajama pants and set them on top of the slippers he’d given me.

Eight days ago, I’d just needed a place to stay for the night. Now I needed a Christmas miracle to shake off this sense of wrongness. Each passing second hurt a little more.

I’d stalled as long as I could in bed earlier that morning with Wyatt, touching and talking about everything except what came next. As kind and attentive as he’d been all morning, Wyatt wasn’t his normal happy self . I knew he felt something for me, but I’m sure he didn’t feel the pull like I did. The flame in my heart had been burning far longer.

He looked uncharacteristically serious as he leaned against the doorway to his bedroom and watched me zip up my suitcase. The joyless eyes and deep creases in his forehead spoke volumes, but his mouth was silent. After days of being open with me, his silence made my heavy heart sink further.

“All done.” I stood up, facing him.

He took a few steps toward me. My mouth grew dry as he brushed a strand of hair off my face, tucking it behind my ear. I could hide Skittles in his forehead creases, they were so deep. He worried at his bottom lip nonstop. Still, no words came.

Finally, he said, “I’ll get your bag,” voice barely above a whisper.

I let him take my suitcase, then I followed him out of the room. Throwing a final glance behind me, I couldn’t help but preen a little. I’d brought some of Wyatt’s fantasies to life in this room. Though, really, the whole week had been a fantasy come true, an intimacy I’d never known.

I could swear his face told me the same story. But even as I hopped up into his Vertex truck to head to the airport, he didn’t say the words.

The roads were wet and empty. It had rained during the night, the snowfall from a few days ago a distant memory. Like this trip soon would be. Spring was a busy time at our company with new projects breaking ground. Spring would bleed into summer, desert days blending into desert nights; fall would come and go. Then another Christmas, where I’d be with my family and secretly wondering who Wyatt would be sharing spaghetti with at that tiny table and cuddling during the boat parade. Wondering if he’d taken on the role of the company’s president or if he’d started any more projects on the houseboat.

Words failed me, too. Thirty minutes in and we hadn’t said a thing. But he’d held my hand the whole way.

Pulling into a lane outside departures, his hazel eyes burned into my skin. “Olive, I…”

I couldn’t even fill in the blank. Not with Wyatt. I never knew what would come from his mouth.

“You what?” I whispered.

He shook his head. “I wish things were different.” He frowned, as if he’d said the wrong thing. “You have an amazing life, and I don’t want to change that. But I wish things were different.”

Why my heart seemed to crack in two, I couldn’t say. He’d shared. I could guess what he meant. But a wish wasn’t worth much coming from a man who preferred action over talk.

Still, I was grateful. I leaned closer, cupping his cheek. “Best Christmas ever, handsome.”

He smiled, genuinely delighted. “You didn’t call me ‘old man.’”

“I did in my head.”

Slowly, his face fell. “What am I supposed to do now?” he whispered.

Inside words, I imagined. Words not meant for me.

A shrill whistle startled us both. I glanced out the window, spotting a scowling police officer. “Three-minute limit. Move it along.”

I saw pain in Wyatt’s face as I brought my gaze back to his. I felt that same pain radiating from my chest. I’d been flung back into my crush’s world, only to leave again.

What was he supposed to do now? Make more magic happen. Preferably with me.

Or go home to his charming houseboat and successful company. Do as he’d always done before the Ninja Turtle ooze fog came along to disrupt his life.

He didn’t say anything, and neither did I. We had lives. Families. Goals. None of which intersected.

There was nothing for me to do but kiss him and go.

“Happy new year, old man.” I captured his lips, taking my sweet time, despite the whistle-wielding officer outside.

Wyatt sighed against my mouth. I tasted his heartache on his lips. “Happy new year, my Olive.”

Yeah, leaving him hurt exactly as much as I thought it would.