Page 32 of Billionaire Unreachable: Wyatt

He hadn’t been wrong.

Then again, he’d grown up in San Diego, and considering his love of food, maybe it wasn’t surprising that he’d sniffed out every place in San Diego that served fantastic food. Even the small, not particularly fancy, family owned establishments, which, in my opinion, usually had the best food.

I didn’t quite know what to think of Wyatt Durand anymore.

He swore he was an asshole, and at one time, I would have completely agreed with him.

Yet, he wasn’t the man I’d thought he was after we’d had that angsty meeting after Chase and Savannah’s wedding reception.

There was a whole different guy behind that mask of indifference and cynicism he wore most of the time.

I’d seen it.

I was benefiting from Wyatt’s kindness in so many ways right now.

I didn’t believe for a single moment that Wyatt was letting me stay at his home and under his protection because he was one of Kaleb’s best friends.

It wasn’t necessary for him to personally be this supportive just to help a buddy.

His perception of himself didn’t match the actual kind man that I knew existed, but I wasn’t quite sure…why.

I had to admit that he hid the real Wyatt Durand quite well. So well that probably very few people could really see through all of his bullshit.

But I did.

He might be a guy of few words, and yeah, the words he did utter were generally derisive, but his actions were far different from the misanthropic statements that came out of his mouth sometimes.

I had to wonder if anyone else except his family had ever noticed that while Wyatt said one thing, his actions often belied his words.

Maybe he’d always been and always would be gruff and pessimistic.

Maybe he’d never be a smooth talker.

Maybe he’d always be more than a little rough around the edges.

Call me crazy, but there was something that was actually endearing to me about this man who spewed bullshit, but actually did have a good heart.

He obviously didn’t wear that heart on his sleeve. In fact, he hid it so well that I wasn’t exactly sure ifheknew that he had a heart.

I watched him from my position on the living room sofa as he poured himself a whiskey at the bar.

We’d eaten at the kitchen island, and I was so full that I felt like my stomach was going to pop.

He shrugged. “I’ve been going to that place for decades. It was one of my father’s favorites. But they usually close pretty early, so I rarely get home in time to order there.” He held up an empty whiskey tumbler with a sardonic smirk. “Should I pour you a glass of your own this time?”

I smiled as I shook my head, instantly recognizing that he was reminding me of the time I’d thrown back his tumbler of good whiskey after the wedding reception. “No, but thank you. I don’t usually down a tumbler of someone else’s whiskey in one gulp. That was a special circumstance. You pissed me off, and I was having a bad night, but I wouldn’t refuse a glass of wine if you have one.”

“I have quite a few bottles,” he informed me. “Chase is a wine connoisseur. Do you have a preference?”

“Anything that isn’t incredibly dry is fine,” I told him, and then watched him as he selected a bottle, expertly removed the cork, and poured some into a wine glass.

For a guy as big as Wyatt, he managed to move with fluid, confident motions that were surprisingly graceful.

I had to wonder if those almost stealthy movements were a product of his former military career.

The fact that he’d been a special forces operative had been astonishing to me at first. He had, after all, been the heir apparent to the Durand empire when he’d been in the military.

What guy that obscenely rich wanted to risk his life on a daily basis going on dangerous missions?