25. Rosie

Chapter Twenty-Five

Rosie

Wyatt: On my way.

When I got home, Wyatt's car was already there. My emotions felt right there on the edge. Everything felt raw as if my nerves were exposed to the air. I needed him, needed the comfort of his presence, the warmth of his embrace, and the way I felt protected and safe with him.

We were comfortable enough now and in enough of a pattern that he was already inside the house. When I walked through the door, he stood by the kitchen counter. My eyes absorbed a few details—his jacket hanging on the hook by the door, his boots in the shoe tray, one of them tipped over. That detail was somehow comforting because one of his boots was always tipped over, specifically the right one because he kicked it off second.

He turned toward the door. He wore navy blue socks, a pair of jeans, and a navy T-shirt that brought out the blue of his eyes. His gaze met mine. I had no idea what he saw on my face, but he crossed to me quickly, helping me slide my jacket off and hanging it up as I slipped out of my shoes. Without a word, he folded me in his arms. I tucked my head into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent.

I didn't even realize I was crying until I heard him saying, "Hey, hey, it's okay, Rosie. It's okay."

I trembled all over as the emotions discharged from my system. He simply held me, not demanding to know what happened, just comforting me and holding me. I had no idea how much time had passed before my tears slowed, and I could breathe.

I took in another gulp of his scent before I lifted my head. I could smell the hint of detergent in his T-shirt and the mingled scents from the brewery and him underneath it all. He smoothed my hair away from my cheek with one hand, holding me firm in his arms as he asked, "Sweetheart, what happened?"

I took a shaky breath and surprised myself completely by simply answering honestly. "We had to treat a woman who went through exactly what happened to my mom. She survived, but it was terrifying, and it just brought up—" My words ran out abruptly. I circled my hand in the air. "So many things. I'm exhausted."

"Are you okay?" Wyatt pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Yeah. It just caught me off guard."

"I bet it did. But you're okay, and it sounds like she's okay. What do you need? We can get you in the shower. I brought pizza with me. It's warming in the oven. Tell me what you need."

As if my body knew, my stomach growled in response. "Pizza would be perfect."