Must Be Wright (The Wrights 3)

She released him and ran inside, yelling, “Uncle Wyatt’s going horseback riding with me!”

Wyatt laughed. He wasn’t the only person in his family who only heard yes.

He’d gone back to the bar for the last three nights, but Gypsy hadn’t been there. Which was for the best. He was too old for her. His travel too extensive. His schedule too unreliable. Their priorities too different. Unfortunately, reminding himself of these realities didn’t keep him from wanting her.

Wyatt turned his attention back to this difficult situation. He exhaled long and slow as he ascended the stairs.

Francie had tears in her dark eyes and, much like her daughter, walked straight into Wyatt’s arms, holding him tight. “Thank you for coming. I know it wasn’t easy for you to get away. It means so much to us.”

A boulder sat on Wyatt’s chest. He’d known this would be difficult. All the firsts after someone’s death were. First holiday, first anniversary, first birthday. But it felt even harder than he’d expected. Francie had lost weight since he’d last seen her. She felt small and fragile. “Hey, are you doing okay?”

She sniffled and pressed her cheek to Wyatt’s chest. “You know I loved him, right?”

The out-of-the-blue comment didn’t surprise Wyatt. He knew exactly how the sight or sound of something could trigger memories of Brody, and with it, the stabbing pain of his loss—like seeing Belle. He had no doubt that he was the same trigger for Francie. “Me too, honey. Me too.”

“I mean, he’d missed every one of Belle’s birthdays, including the day she was born, but there was always a card, a phone or Skype call. Not getting that connection with him today… It’s been hard on both of us.” She pulled away and looked up at him. Her dark hair was long and straight, her warm brown eyes wet. “Hard on all of us.”

Wyatt nodded. “How are Mom and Dad doing?”

She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Better than me, it seems. They’re out back.”

Wyatt stood there an extended moment, just in case Francie needed to talk more. But she exhaled and wiped her eyes. “Would you mind keeping an eye on things? I need to go get more ice cream. One of the girls is allergic to eggs. Another is allergic to dairy.”

Wyatt frowned. “There are eggs in ice cream?”

“Evidently some brands.” She shook her head and huffed a laugh. “Who knew, right? And if anyone asks, yes, the cake has gluten.”

He almost asked if she wanted him to go instead, but it was clear she needed a break from the festivities. “Of course, you got it.”

“Thanks.” She took a step toward the stairs. “Watch yourself. It’s Single-mommy Central out there, and I’ve heard more than a few whispered hopes you’d make an appearance today.”

Shit. “Hey, do you want me to go

?”

She gave him a wan smile. “Never thought a few women would scare you.”

“It’s just…” He looked at the ground with an undefinable fear tightening his gut. “I don’t want to upstage her day is all. This should be all about Belle.”

Francie smiled reassuringly. “It will be. The moms might all have their eyes on you, but the kids are just kids. They just want to play. And Belle isn’t shy about working the attention when she needs to. Guess she got a few of your genes in the mix.”

Wyatt smiled, but when Francie turned away, he dropped the fake expression. That harmless comment hit a little too close to the wound Wyatt had been nursing since Brody died.

Francie paused at her car and stared at Wyatt a long moment, as if she was having a hard time leaving. “I love you, Wyatt. You’ve been so good to us. So good for Belle. You’re just…such a good man.”

A fresh wave of concern rolled through him. “I love you too, honey.”

He pulled in a breath to ask if he could do anything for her, but she dropped into the driver’s seat. He watched the SUV disappear around a corner with a mental note to sit down with Francie while he was here. See if there was anything more he could do to help her. Maybe pay for counseling or get her into school. She was just twenty-six. She’d gotten pregnant at twenty-one and married his brother right before he shipped out to boot camp. Theirs was a hit-or-miss relationship, only seeing each other for short stints between Brody’s deployments. That was a lot of pressure on someone so young.

His mind veered toward Gypsy. She was also twenty-six. She might be more mature with moxie and fire, but still just twenty-six. He shouldn’t be thinking about messing around with someone ten years younger. He didn’t even particularly care for women Gypsy’s age. The majority of them seemed too flighty and narcissistic for his taste. The mature, responsible, loving women in that age bracket were a real find.

Which made Gypsy one hell of a gem. A gem he couldn’t wait to see tonight.

Wyatt climbed the steps and wandered through the house toward the backyard. He’d bought this house with his first big paycheck. At the time, it seemed perfect for Francie and Brody’s growing family, but now, with just Francie and Belle here, maybe it was too big. Maybe it was too much for Francie to handle on her own. He’d have to ask her if she wanted to downsize or move into a different house.

He stood at the open French doors, taking in the scene. Mommy Central was right. When he’d been a kid, parents didn’t stick around for birthday parties, but it was obvious times had changed. There were as many adult women here as there were little girls, all talking in small groups. And as soon as he stepped outside, every adult gaze turned toward him.

“Hey, Wyatt.” One of the women lifted her hand in greeting.