Worth The Wait (Worth It Book 10) by Styles Peter

Author:Styles, Peter [Styles, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2019-04-24T16:00:00+00:00

12

Wyatt

I had picked up my phone to call Vance at least a million times since making love to him. The reality of him in my arms again had been so much better than any nighttime or shower fantasy. But how the hell could what was between us ever be any more than that? I had responsibilities to my business and employees, responsibility to Tempy as her dad. And hadn’t I hurt Vance enough already? What the hell was wrong with me?

So in the end, I chickened out every time. It wasn’t as though Vance was ringing the phone off the hook either. Maybe he’d had second thoughts too. I hadn’t been able to give him the guarantees he had to have wanted, and that might have turned into a dealbreaker for him.

Now it was Sunday evening. Tempy and I were on our way to Austin’s house. He and Benji were hosting a “family” dinner. As much of a workaholic as Austin had been, I supposed I should be glad he’d found a way to relax in his relationship with Benji. Blind from birth, Austin’s husband tended to be a smartass with a wicked sense of humor.

Benji was the one to open the door. His head turned unerringly toward Tempy—I had no idea how he even knew. “As beautiful as ever, I see, Tempy.”

She giggled. “Nice try, Benji, but you’re blind.”

He tapped his temple. “I have super senses that make up for it in ways mere mortals can’t imagine.”

Austin came up behind Benji and slipped his arms around his waist as he studied Tempy and me. “Benji is right as usual. You do look wonderful, sweetheart. Come on in, Wyatt. The beer is cold and the food is hot.”

As we walked into the kitchen, Austin clapped an arm across my back. “I’m glad you could make it. It’s been too long.”

I slid him a grin. “You know where to find me, bro.”

Dinner was relaxing. Benji was on his best behavior, which meant he kept Tempy giggling and blushing. I envied him and my brother. Austin didn’t appear to have nearly the hang-ups I had going on. As I finished the last of the fajitas, I listened to Benji and Tempy’s back and forth banter with a smile.

“So do you have an art class in middle school this year?” he asked, one brow arched.

“You know I can’t draw anything more than stick figures. I’m taking Spanish and gym this semester, plus all the usual boring stuff.”

When I gave her the look, she rolled her eyes. Sometimes the need for middle school cool was a bit over the top. Tempy was a brilliant student, and I definitely didn’t want her falling into the mindset that being smart was a bad thing. Too many students were dismissing how much a good education mattered.

“What you need is to try something three dimensional,” Benji told her, leaning closer. “Come with me and I’ll let you play in the mud.”

“What?” she laughed.

“We can mess around with some clay on the potting wheel.

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