No One But You

Perhaps he would come to his senses when he found the house empty, and seek the help he desperately needed, but she feared that, like many abusers, he was too self-centered to admit to his own flaws. That saddened her as she hit the garage remote and waited for the door to rise.
    What was she going to do about Wyatt? Seeing Roland tonight and seeing herself in Lyn had made it clear; she couldn’t risk going back. She would be wise to not trust another man.
    Except not all men were like Jasper and Roland.
    She eased into her parking spot, cut the engine and sat a moment as the door lowered into place. It had felt nice when Wyatt backed her up tonight, wanting to protect her. He’d been there for Jake and he’d waited at the hospital. She thought of how much Jake liked Wyatt, and the way her heart opened when the man smiled at her—opened, when it had been guarded for so long.
    And that scared her.
    She slipped from behind the wheel, determined. When you trusted a man, you trusted him with your life. Moreover, you trusted him with your child’s life. Nothing—not one thing—could ever make her risk that again.
    So, what was she going to do? She stepped into the warmth of the house and shrugged out of her coat in the dark living room. The TV murmured. She heard a crowd cheer, a whistle blow and commentators argue. She tried to ignore the warmth in her heart and the little thrill she felt knowing Wyatt was here. She’d missed him. Regardless of how hard she’d tried not to, she’d missed him. What if she didn’t have what it took to risk love again?
    “Mariah.” Wyatt looked up from the kitchen counter, where he was dicing a carrot. “Is your neighbor okay?”
    “Yes. We’re going to help her move back to Michigan, where the rest of her family is.”
    “Good. She deserves that.” He scooped the carrot coins into a bowl of salad and carried it to the table.
    To a table that was neatly set, the glasses filled with bubbling soda and the bread wrapped in foil on a trivet. He plunked the salad down with a clink. She stared, unable to take it all in. “You made dinner? You made my spaghetti and meatballs.”
    “Yep. Jake found the recipe in the drawer. Hobart helped, too. He ate every crumb and noodle that hit the floor.” The old dog looked up at the sound of his name, gave a woof and went back to drowsing on his bed in the corner. The scents of garlic and onion, of doughy pasta and steaming marinara filled the air as Wyatt set the dutch oven on the table. “I’m not much of a cook, but I think I did an all right job.”
    “It smells wonderful.” Tears burned behind her eyes. He’d done this for her? She couldn’t believe it. Just when she’d thought he couldn’t do more to win her heart, he’d done this. “I never thought the day would come when I saw Wyatt Royce wearing a set of pink-and-green oven mitts.”
    “It’s my new look. What do you think?”
    “I like it. Very much.” Her heart tumbled, falling for him so swift and hard that not even her fears could stop it. What was she going to do now? She was vulnerable, completely defenseless. Every instinct she had shouted at her to run, to escape and push him away so she would be safe. But how could she? It was nice coming home to him. It was wonderful having a man who took care of her, who cared for her, who was everything she’d ever wanted.
    He was the man she needed. She, independent Mariah Duncan needed him with all of her heart.
    “I’ve been thinking while you were gone.” He slipped off the oven mitts. “I have to be honest. There’s something you need to know. Maybe you’re not ready to hear it, or maybe you’re not ready for me yet. I’ll wait. I’ll do whatever it takes, whatever you need. I used to think nothing could heal my heart, it was in so many pieces. But it turns out one thing can heal that deep of a wound. Love. My love for you.”
    “I love you, too.” Tears welled in her eyes, refusing to fall. “But what am I going to do? How am I going to—“
    “Keep your heart safe?” he finished. Wyatt knew everything about her, he could see so deep. The devotion he felt for her, the connection he had with her was singular and rare. A gift he’d never thought he would find again. “You are safe with me, Mariah. Your heart, your life, and your son’s life. As safe as can be.”
    “I’ve had to protect myself for so long. I don’t know how to let someone else in…how to trust again.”
    “Then let me help