No One But You

go or we’ll be late.” Jake strode into the kitchen dressed in his team sweats, dragging his duffel with him.
    Mariah turned her attention back to stacking plates in the dishwasher. “I’m ready. All I need is my coat. Do you have all your stuff?”
    “Yep. I triple-checked. Guess what I found?” Something clanked against the counter. A flash of silver caught her eye.
    Ugh, no. She groaned. Not that picture from high school. She refused to look at it. “I should have tossed that thing ages ago. I don’t know why I didn’t. It’s just one I’d forgotten about.”
    “Like I buy that.” Jake hooked his gym bag over his shoulder and grabbed his coat. “I think he still likes you.”
    “What a thing to say! Wyatt Royce was over me long ago, I assure you.” She dried her hands on the towel slung over the oven door handle. “Why are you so interested, anyway?”
    “Curiosity, Mom.” There was a tell-tale sparkle in his eyes. “I can’t picture it. You, my age? It boggles.”
    “Why? You’ve gone through the yearbooks. You’ve seen those pictures of me as a teenager.”
    “Yeah, but pictures don’t tell the whole story.” He led the way through the house. “Mr. Royce would know all the good stuff about you.”
    “There is no good stuff. Just boring, straight-A me.” She wriggled into her jacket, remembering the girl she’d been, so in love with Wyatt. After a few quick months, they’d broken up and he’d left town.
    “Not going to believe that for a second, Mom. I looked him up on the internet.”
    “You what? ”
    “It’s no big deal.” Her son bounced out into the crisp night. “Not unless you still like him.”
    “No! Absolutely not.” She closed and locked the door. “How could you do such a thing?”
    “It was easy. I just typed his name into a search engine.”
    “Funny. That’s not what I meant.”
    “It’s no big deal, Mom,” Jake repeated, circling around the SUV parked in their driveway. “He’s megarich. He was on the cover of last month’s Financial Weekly magazine. FYI, he’s not married.”
    “That’s information I don’t need to know.” Honestly. She hit the remote and the locks popped. “Get in, smarty.”
    “Hey, I’m just making conversation.” Jake dropped into the front passenger seat. “I saw the way his eyes got all bright and shiny when he looked at you.”
    She settled behind the wheel. “Must have been an optical illusion.”
    “Yeah, right.” Her son rolled his eyes. “I’m thinking he’s interested. Hey, you could have married him instead. That makes him my almost-dad. Funny, right?”
    “Really hilarious.” The engine roared to life. She shifted into Reverse and twisted in her seat. Of all the people she could have run into today, why did it have to be Wyatt? Headlights shot through the darkness, so she waited for the approaching car to pass. It pulled up short and swung into the driveway next door.
    Looked like the Lindstroms were home. Mariah backed into the street in a quick arc, spotting the family emerging from their vehicle. Tension radiated from the husband like heat from a fire, and his wife walked behind him, silent, her head down. Their young daughter trailed behind, her footsteps dragging. It wasn’t the first time Mariah had noticed the family’s deep unhappiness. She had caught Lyn crying, hands to her face, on her back deck last week, and had gone over to help.
    That used to be me. She gripped the steering wheel, gave the car a little gas and zipped by the house. One last glance at the husband, hands fisted at his sides, brought it all back. Jasper’s anger, Jasper’s misery. Living like a second-class citizen in her own home.
    She would never trust a man, she vowed as she nosed the car down the street. Not ever again.
    * * *
    He couldn’t get Mariah out of his head. He hated that he’d upset her. She’d tried to hide it, but couldn’t, not from him. Wyatt stared out the condominium’s windows at the city lights sparkling in the dark.
    “What do you think of the property?” The Realtor’s high heels tapped on the marble as she sashayed into view. “It’s a quality building in a good location. The bank is willing to negotiate. High-end real estate like this is hard for them to unload.”
    “It’s a good deal.” He took another look around the cavernous, high-ceilinged living room. It was just what he’d been looking for…but it wasn’t what he wanted.
    “We can write up an offer and see if we