No One But You

that attracted to the man, could she? No. She refused to be. “Delegate? I don’t know what you mean.”
    “Why am I not surprised you have the same problem? Type A’s usually do.” He gestured toward her office, visible through the glass, the executive-size desk piled to capacity with work needing to be done, issues needing to be resolved. “My desk looks like that, with columns of paper stacked two feet high. There’s more work than I can do in a day, but that doesn’t stop me from trying.”
    “Is that the secret to your success?”
    “Actually, I’m not sure what it is. I got lucky.”
    “I know you, Wyatt. You always were a hard worker.”
    “So were you. Remember the job you got after your dad died? You had two jobs back then.”
    “At the drive-in and at the department store.” Aware of the silent office surrounding them, she pitched her voice lower. “Come with me. I’ll show you what we do here.”
    “So, you always give donors a walking tour?” He fell in step beside her.
    “Sometimes.” This was professional, she reminded herself. Think of his sizable contribution to the diaper drive. That was what mattered here. “I think Sunni is amused that I used to know you back when. The Wyatt Royce. My son tells me you were on a magazine cover?”
    “Right. Not at all sure why. Must have been a slow news week.” His chuckle was deep and rich and masculine.
    Little tingles threatened to break out, but she refused to react to him. Whatever she felt was simply a vestige of the past. “How is your mom?”
    “Well. She and Dad have retired to Florida. My mousy mother and my workaholic father are golfing, sailing and living it up on the beach. I hardly recognize them.”
    “Good for them. I’m glad they’re enjoying life as much as they can. They were always nice to me.”
    “They adored you. I think they always hoped…”
    “That we would wind up together?” she finished, leading the way down the stairwell. “Perish the thought.”
    “Exactly.” He laughed again. Another thing that hadn’t changed was his easygoing good humor. “How’s your mom?”
    “She remarried last year. They moved to Rochester.” Mariah opened a door into the TV room, where Ashleigh was setting up for their evening event. “We’re having a movie night. We offer a wide range of aftercare services. Once a woman moves out of Mary’s Place, she isn’t forgotten. We’re there for her with support groups, dinners, friendship and movie nights.”
    “Sounds fun.”
    “Fun and important. Women who’ve been abused are often cut off from family and friends, and so part of our work here is to help them forge new relationships. Social support is vital to the healing process and helping women rebuild their lives.”
    “You really care about this, don’t you? You’re not just an executive.”
    “Exactly. It’s my life’s work.”
    “I see.” Wyatt saw a lot of things—the successful woman she’d become, the thriving organization she ran. And he understood the kind of commitment and work that took. He also saw the wall she’d put up between them. Was she that uncomfortable being with him again? He felt a twinge of guilt. There was a reason he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her over the weekend, and why he’d bailed on his afternoon meeting to be here with her. “I owe you an apology.”
    “What for? Come, I’ve got something to show you I think you might like.” She acted as if she didn’t know, but she did. She couldn’t fool him.
    He noted the graceful way she moved, the high regard the smiling Ashleigh held her in before, with a quick wave, she stepped from the room. Wyatt cleared his throat, determined to do this the right way. “I shouldn’t have tried to butt in like I did and tell you how to run your life or your son’s.”
    “I’m not sure I understand. You’re apologizing?” She quirked one slender eyebrow, latent humor threatening to bubble up. There was a hint of the lighthearted Mariah he’d known. “All right, where is the real Wyatt and what have you done with him?”
    “Yeah, I deserve that.” He chuckled, accompanying her past a large rec room, where a group of women sat in a circle, learning to knit. Across the hall in a play area, little ones were engrossed with the numerous toys scattered around the room. It embarrassed him now what he’d said to her on Saturday. Telling her what to do with her job and her son? “I was trying to help. But every time I do,