Ms. Calculation Page 14

  At least the man was smart enough to know when his butt was on the line—and that running made him look even more suspicious.

  “Why did you stay with him, Monica? If you knew what he was doing with Bianca?” Gwen asked, pity flecking her voice.

  Monica sighed and rested her chin on her hand. She sat in silence for a moment as if she was trying to find exactly the right answers to such a hard question. “I knew from the day I said yes at the altar that he was the kind of man who was going to seek the company of other women.”

  “And you still said yes?” Gwen pushed.

  Wyatt wanted to make her stop prying into the woman’s private life, but in truth he was just as curious about what would possess a woman to make what must have been a terribly painful compromise.

  “When I met him, I was a bit lost. I didn’t know what I wanted in life. I didn’t know where I wanted to go. And everyone around me was getting married. It may sound shallow, but he offered so much—thanks to his family’s wealth and his job. I knew I would have a life where I would never have to worry about money, I’d never want for anything...at least not anything material. If I want to travel, I book my flight. I have my independence. And I have a man who doesn’t stand in my way. Ever. He appreciates his independence—and what he can do with it.”

  “And you aren’t jealous?” Wyatt asked.

  She looked over at him, her eyes tired, and he could tell she hated that she had been forced to admit the reality of her situation to them. “I signed up for this. I don’t like it. But I did this to myself. It wasn’t Bianca’s fault she fell for him. He can be quite charming when he wants to be.”

  Wyatt didn’t understand it at all. To him, it seemed like an impossible lie to live. He could barely even imagine the dance they must have had to do to avoid talking about the truths of their lifestyle.

  Then again, he wasn’t like some men. He didn’t want a million women. He didn’t care about a one-night stand, or the need to have a woman validate him or fulfill his physical needs. He wanted a woman who just loved him for him. One woman...the right woman, and he would be endlessly satisfied.

  He glanced over at Gwen.

  Maybe it wasn’t that he wasn’t like other men. Maybe it was just that he had a taste of the woman he’d really wanted and had been waiting for her to come back to him ever since.

  A thought popped into his head. “Do you think any of William’s other women would have had a problem with Bianca?”

  Monica shrugged.

  “How did you know he was seeing Bianca?” Gwen asked.

  Monica’s gaze flickered to Christina, who was looking everywhere but at Gwen.

  “Did you tell her about it, Christina?” Wyatt asked.

  “I just... I put it together and—” Christina started.

  Monica interrupted her. “She was just being a good friend. It’s a tough spot to be in, to know someone’s spouse is cheating. It’s a terrible position. And I appreciate her telling me and, Gwen, I understand why you didn’t—especially since it was Bianca. You were in an impossible position.”

  “Do you know if he was seeing anyone else?” Wyatt asked.

  Monica shook her head. “I don’t think so. After Christina told me about the relationship, I was tuned in to his comings and goings. To be honest, I think they were in love. Every minute he wasn’t working or with me, it seemed like he was with her.”

  “But you’re not upset? That doesn’t seem right,” Wyatt said, trying to make sense of it all.

  “I was upset, but not with her. It wasn’t Bianca’s fault. Like I said, I could only be mad at myself.”

  He wasn’t sure if she was simply more emotionally evolved than he was, or if she was just a bit dead inside because of the emotional roller coaster she had been experiencing over the years. Either way, he pitied her.

  “Are you done here?” Christina asked, once again coming to bat for her friend, and it made him like her even more.

  He nodded. “Sure. Thanks for taking the time out of your day to answer my questions. Would you like us to drive you back to your place, Monica?”

  Monica shook her head. “I’m not getting back in a police car if I can help it. Christina, would you mind taking me back to the shop? I need to get back to work.” She stood up and, as she was about to walk out, she turned back to him. “I know my life probably doesn’t make any sense to you, but I promise...I had nothing to do with Bianca’s death. And, as much as I sometimes hate my husband and he hates me, he’s not the kind who would do something like this. Like I said, I think he loved her. And when he’s in love, he can be a magnificent man.”

  She and Christina walked out, not bothering to look back.

  He turned to Gwen. “I need to call my team and check to see if they’ve found anything at your place, or if they were able to pull any fingerprints. Is there anything you need to do?”

  She smiled. “I could use some food. You have a terrible habit of keeping me hungry.”

  He laughed. “I got some... I mean, I have some food back at my place,” he said, nearly tripping over his words with the smooth form of a teenager.

  Gwen laughed, and the sound resonated through him. It felt good to hear that sound. “Okay. Unless it’s bologna. I may not be Monica with her Louboutins,” she said, motioning toward the women in the ranch truck as they pulled out of the parking area, “but I do have some standards. Conglomerated pig meat is where I draw the line.”

  He wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn there was something more in the way she looked at him. Was it that their talk about William made her remember what kind of man Wyatt wasn’t?

  When they left the office, Alli was standing outside, holding Winnie’s hand.

  “Wy-ant! Where you been?” Winnie threw herself around his legs.

  It made his chest tighten as he was reminded how much he loved that little girl...and how badly he wanted his own.

  “Hey, Winnie-girl. How goes it, dollface?” He lifted her up and gave her a hug, then dropped her back down to her feet.

  “You got candy?” Winnie asked, reaching up toward his pocket with her pudgy toddler fingers.

  He reached into his pocket. When he went back to his place, he’d need a refill, but luckily he had one more piece for his best bud on the ranch. “Here you go, sweetie.”

  Gwen sent him a warm smile as Winnie took the piece of candy from his hand.

  “Thanks you, Wy-ant!” Winnie turned to her mom and lifted the candy for her to see. “Look, Mama, he gave me this.” Before her mother could take it away, Winnie unwrapped the candy, popped it in her mouth and ran toward the barn.

  “No running with food in your mouth, Winnie!” Alli called after her, before turning back to them. “What were you doing in there? Why was Monica here?”

  It surprised him that she would care. On the other hand, his brother’s ex-wife was nothing if not nosy. No doubt, within the next few hours she would have the news that Monica had arrived at the ranch in the back of his squad car spread far and wide.

  “We just had to ask everyone a few questions. No big thing. Why?” Wyatt tried to remain impassive so he could read her response.

  Alli shrugged, but the motion looked forced. “Do you think Monica has something to do with Bianca’s death?” She looked toward the barn. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she did it. She’s a vile woman. I don’t know how my sister likes her. She barely speaks to me any time she comes here. It’s almost like she thinks she’s too good for the rest of us. But if you ask me, she stinks just as much as the rest of us.”

  He thought about Monica’s expensive appearance. She was the kind who liked to keep up her looks. No doubt, to the dirt-covered gardener in front of him, Monica was a perfect target for Alli’s hate.

  He didn’t understand how sweet little Winnie could have come from a
woman who seemed to be solely focused on her own bitterness. At least Winnie had his family—he had no idea what he would do if she ever was forced to leave because of her disaster of a mother.

  “Thanks for your opinion, Alli, but Monica has been more than helpful.”

  “Then she’s full of crap. You shouldn’t trust her farther than you can throw her.” Alli looked toward the parking lot.

  He’d had enough. Whatever her opinions, his dislike for her erased any objectivity he should have had in listening to her. Without bothering to say goodbye, he took Gwen’s hand and led her back to his patrol unit. Sometimes it was just easier to walk away from a fight in which idiocy and close-mindedness were the only things really up for debate.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was a short drive to Wyatt’s place, and Gwen was glad. Her stomach grumbled with hunger as she walked to Wyatt’s refrigerator and opened the door. Stale air poured out at her, making her wonder exactly how much he ate at home. She smiled as she looked in at the fridge’s contents. He had an old loaf of bread, a wrinkled tomato and a block of cheese sitting on the shelf. Tucked into the far corner was a stick of salami and a pint-size jar of mayonnaise.

  It wasn’t pretty, but she could do something with the man-ish contents of his fridge.

  Wyatt walked out of the bedroom. He was still on the phone with what she assumed was the crime lab. “We could really use a rush on those fingerprints. We have a lead on a couple of suspects, but I can’t make any arrests until we have conclusive results. I’d love to have everything in order before I leave.” He paused. “Yep, Alaska.” Another pause. “You know it. I am one lucky son of a gun. Gonna take the fishing pole! Maybe I’ll bring you back some fish since we both know you can’t catch any on your own.” He laughed and the sound was warm and full of life.

  Normally that sound would have made her body tingle, but all she could think about was Alaska. Two more days and he would be leaving for a week.

  Standing there in his kitchen, she wondered what it would have been like if they hadn’t ended things when they were younger. To have let things between them naturally progress instead of her cutting them down? Sure, there was no going back and changing what had already happened, but there was no harm in dreaming.

  Or was it hoping?

  She laughed, brushing back a hair from her forehead, taking out the contents of the fridge and setting about making them sandwiches.

  Maybe if she ignored reality, she could pretend this is what life would have been like if they had gotten married—her puttering around their place, him working and making plans while she was taking care of them. Or if they had stayed together, maybe she could have dreamed of something bigger than being a domestic goddess.

  She’d been thrust into the role of caregiver for her mother, and now that Bianca was gone, everything about the ranch would also fall into her lap. They had put the bulls out to pasture with the cows, so in the spring she would at least have a hundred new calves—and then hopefully they could sell them for enough to keep the ranch going for another year. But without Bianca here, Gwen would have to take on extra hands.

  She sighed as she glanced over at Wyatt, who stood by the window looking out at his family’s spread.

  In all truth, she hated ranching. Most thought of it as this romantic thing, early mornings spent around a campfire drinking coffee and nights in the arms of a cowboy, but her reality was nothing like that. Her mornings were usually taken up with feedings and moving animals, her afternoons were spent cleaning and then, when an animal was sick, Bianca had stepped in. The ranch had captured her sister just as much as it had trapped her, and now that Bianca was gone, it would be so much harder.

  There was no way she could do it all by herself.

  Wyatt hung up the phone and walked over to the counter to stand beside her. When he didn’t wrap her in his arms she was surprised by the faint wave of disappointment that filled her.

  Her daydream was definitely not the same as her reality. Then again, when had her dreams ever come true?

  “Would you ever want to go back into ranching?” she asked, in hope that somehow their stars would align.

  “I don’t mind ranching. But I like what I do. Why?” He pulled open a drawer and, taking out a knife, set to spreading mayonnaise on the bread.

  She could hardly tell him that she was feeling him out, or that she was praying he would help her make sense of her life and what she hoped was their future.

  “That’s great that you like your job,” she said, in an attempt to maneuver around her fears.

  “Do you like ranching?” he asked with a quirk of his brow.

  She took a long breath as she sliced the salami and set it on the bread he’d prepared. “It’s a lot. There’s so much I should be doing right now, especially now that it’s winter. We’re close, but I want to get one more pass on the fences before more snow falls.”

  “If you need help now that, you know, everything’s changed.” He was careful about not saying what they were both thinking—that she was lost without Bianca.

  She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she stared at the counter. “I might need to bring on another hand. We’ll have to see. Right now, with just me, it’s tough and it’s only going to get harder. Then again, we can’t really afford anything. Things are tight.”

  As soon as she admitted the truth, she wished she could take it back. He wasn’t anything more than a friend. He didn’t need to add her struggles to his plate. He needed to stay at surface level when it came to the real things going on in her life.

  “Why are you keeping the ranch?” He reached over and took a piece of the meat and popped it into his mouth.

  She had given thought to that question a thousand times, each time she and Bianca had been forced to sell bits of their ranch in an effort to keep everything afloat. Each time, she’d come back to the same conclusion—she didn’t want to be the generation that let it crumble. The Widow Maker had been in her family for four generations. Each generation had their own obstacles—both financial and personal—that had made it nearly impossible to keep the ranch, but no matter how bad things got, they had always managed to make it work.

  She couldn’t be the one to fail.

  “There’s no shame in selling it,” Wyatt continued, thankfully not waiting for her to answer.

  He didn’t know how weak she felt, or how out of control. And how, if she put her thoughts of possibly failing out into the world, she feared they would be what came to be.

  “There is shame in it, Wyatt.” She handed him his sandwich and took a bite of her own.

  He watched her as she took another bite. “How are you going to run that place on your own? I mean, it’s a huge job. You never even really seemed to like this kind of life. Isn’t there something you’d rather be doing? Something that you really want?”

  She set the sandwich down. The one thing she really wanted was him. She wanted to be his everything. She wanted for them to get married. To travel around the world and be as free as the wind. Then, when they were ready, she would love to have kids—to see him light up like he did whenever he saw Winnie. She would love to be wholly consumed by their reality.

  Maybe what she wanted most was to be truly, completely happy. No matter what job she did or where life placed her, she didn’t care. She could be satisfied. But she had a sinking feeling that the only way to have true happiness was to find it with the man standing beside her.

  “You know what I really want?” Her voice was soft and sultry and she moved toward him. “I want you...” She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair.

  The sandwich in his hand came to full a stop at his lips. He smiled and swallowed the bite in his mouth. He stared at her like he was trying to figure her out, but there was really no need. She had said what she had meant.

  She to
ok the sandwich from him and sat it on the counter beside hers. Wiping the crumbs from the corners of his lips, he turned toward her and pulled her into his arms. His kiss was hard, and she grabbed his hair with both of her hands, pressing him against her lips even harder, until all they had was each other, their breaths on each other’s skin and the taste of salt on their tongues.

  He growled as his hands slipped down and he cupped her ass. He squeezed, and she pulled back as she giggled. His brown eyes were full of heady lust.

  Maybe he wasn’t as unsure about this as he had seemed before. He probably was still at the “it would be great, but” stage, yet right now she didn’t care. Not when she could have him like she had wanted to for so long.

  He reached down and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around him. She kissed his neck, taking in the flavor of his skin and the aroma of fresh air he always seemed to exude.

  “Where are you taking me?” She hugged his neck.

  “Where would you like to go, my lady?” he said with a sexy half smirk.

  “Hey now, who said I was a lady?” She gave him a sexy quirk of the brow.

  “You are one, but for the sake of argument, if you’re not a lady...” He sat her down on the counter and pushed all the sandwich-making supplies to the floor with a one-armed swipe.

  “Someone is going to have to clean that up,” she said with a laugh.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been on my own for a long time. I’m more than capable of cleaning up,” he said, pulling her close so that she could feel his body’s response against her.

  His heat mixed with hers, making the desire she had been feeling seem that much more raw and urgent. She reached down. At least this time he wasn’t wearing his utility belt like he had before the shower—it would be a little less work to get what she wanted, and it would give them each less time to think of the hundred reasons they shouldn’t be doing what they were.