up. Need to speak with you. Call ASAP.’
I sigh. Okay, so no run for me today.
I get undressed as I go and throw everything in the hamper just outside my en suite bathroom door and I immediately hit the shower.
I close my eyes under the warm jets and grimace when the ache returns to pulse somewhere over my heart.
I soap up and rinse as fast as possible and I’m already toweling myself off while I step out of the shower stall.
I wonder why Mike needs to speak with me. It can’t be work-related or an emergency: if that were the case, he would have called not texted, hell knowing him, he would be already on my fucking porch.
So what’s this about?
I throw a pair of clean boxers on and jog into my kitchen to get started on breakfast.
I’m starving and in the mood for some pancakes and bacon today, maybe even an omelet.
I couldn’t eat a morsel of my dinner yesterday, no matter how much I tried, everything turned my stomach.
It happens sometimes, the ache in my soul gets so painful I can’t even eat, so I need to make up for it later.
I get all the ingredients I need from my pantry and the fridge and put them on the island near the stove while I check my work email.
I open the freezer for some frozen veggies and I shake my head when I can barely find them hidden as they are behind pints upon pints of coconut froyo.
I scratch the back of my head, staring pensively at the stuff.
I have no idea why I keep buying it, I don’t like frozen yogurt at all, I could never stand it, and I fucking hate anything flavored with coconut, the cloying smell and the overly sweet taste of it have always made me sick. I’d rather have some old-fashioned B&J coffee ice cream, but every time I go into Jewel for groceries, I end up buying some.
I don’t know why I feel like I have to do it.
I’ve been buying it since I got back from Syria.
Every time I see a pint of this girlie shit it gives me the warm and fuzzies in the pit of my stomach and I have to get some, but then I can never even bring myself to open it and have some, the shit is just too disgusting.
Thank fuck, Livvie, Mike’s wife, likes it enough, so every time my freezer starts to overflow with it, I packed up most of the tubs I’ve accumulated and bring them to their place in town, though I can never bring myself not to leave at least a few here.
Looks like I’m going to have to make a run soon.
I start putting together my omelet and in the meantime, call Mike’s cell.
He answers on the first ring.
Why so eager at fucking six a.m.?
I’m starting to have a bad feeling about this.
“Wyatt, how are you doing this morning?” he asks in his booming voice.
“Can’t complain, Mike. How are you and that brave woman that married you doing?”
He laughs. “We’re doing well, son, we just wished we could see more of you around here. Everybody misses you in town.”
I smirk. “Yeah, right.”
“They do,” he insists.
Mike and Livvie might miss my company, but they are certainly the only ones who do. Not that I can blame the townsfolk from keeping their distance from me, I’m not exactly inviting and open, but my friend and his wife don’t see that.
They’ve been kind like surrogate parents to me since I moved here and not counting Jonny, they are pretty much the closest thing to a family I’ve ever had.
Mike is awesome at his job and has been completely dedicated to it since he was first elected twenty-five years ago, and I don’t think Jewel could have a better sheriff. Livvie is the town’s resident veterinarian and she’s a total sweetheart.
They don’t have children or any family, they only have each other, and they understood my situation and my need for space from the start. Mike has a military background as well and from the stories we’ve traded, I know he had to see some pretty heavy shit back in his day.
He is one of the few people in the world, aside from my Army brothers, with whom I can really talk about all the things that would make civilians balk.
I didn’t come ready to make friends, I have to be honest: I only wanted to do my job and be left to