He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor. “I’m sure she’d appreciate your loyalty, but”—he raised his head and stared at the kid— “c’mon Dobs, I’m dying here. I love her. I’ve never loved anyone before, but I am one thousand percent, soul-deep, in love with Eden.”
Dobie shot to his feet. “If you’re so in love with her, why the hell did you cheat on her? You stupid fuck. You had her, really had her. This morning when I told her what you’d done, it hurt her bad. Like, really bad. If you’d been home, I would have punched you.” He flung out an arm and spun away. “Then you probably would have put me in the hospital, but I wouldn’t have cared.” Dobie turned back around and walked to the front of the cage to glare at him. “You deserve some pain for breaking her heart.”
Now he stood, too, and approached the bars. “Hold up. Hold on,” he ordered when Dobie turned his back. “I never cheated on Eden. Why would you tell her I had?” More to himself, he added, “And why would she believe you?”
“This is why she doesn’t want to talk to you. She knows you’ll lie. Save your breath, Swain. I was at the Gas N Go this morning, heading out on a tow. Oh, yeah, now you know you’re busted,” he said when Swain uttered a curse. “I saw you and the blonde step out of the hotel room. Y’all looked real cozy, all wrapped up in each other. Then you went back inside. I think part of me couldn’t believe my eyes, so I waited, wondering what the hell I was going to tell Eden, and how. When you came out again, I was ready. I took a video of you two saying goodbye, complete with long hug and a sweet little kiss.” His voice took on an uncharacteristically bitter note. “Then I handled the fucking tow and drove over to your house to show Eden the proof. Which I hated doing, by the way. I hated being the messenger. Making her cry. Making her sick. She was—”
“Mistaken.” He didn’t have to explain himself to Dobie or Kenny. Couldn’t, actually, but he refused to let them believe he’d cheated on Eden. “You didn’t see what you think you saw. Yeah, I know—me and a blonde in a motel room,” he conceded when Dobie would have interrupted, “I’m not saying it didn’t look bad, I’m just saying it’s not what you thought. I know I’m the lucky one in the Eden-Swain equation. She’s it for me. She’s the one. Why would I cheat?”
Dobie looked doubtful. “I don’t know. Because you’re crazy? Some guys just can’t keep it in their pants. It’s like, a sickness.”
“Look, I’m not who you thought
I was, right? I’m not a low-skill construction worker. I pretended to be one as part of a cover.
“Wait…” Kenny’s brows drew together. “What are you telling us?”
“Boys, I’m just telling you, you can’t believe everything you see. You, of all people, ought to realize the truth of that.”
Swain left the police station unaccountably optimistic. He should be pissed, he acknowledged as he climbed into the Bronco, because, clearly, Dobie and his video had shaken Eden’s faith in him—and how could she not understand how completely and utterly in love with her he was, no matter how incriminating the video looked?
Well, because you never told her.
Okay, yes. That was true. She hadn’t exactly confessed undying love to him, either. On the other hand, according to Dobie, the so-called evidence of his betrayal had broken her heart. Which meant she cared. A lot. Good. So did he.
He steered the car onto the road and focused on the bright side. She hadn’t purposefully elbowed him out of the op, due to ambition, or distrust, or whatever. No, that had happened due to circumstances beyond her control, and he wouldn’t fault her for taking the only opening fate had left them.
She had purposefully ghosted him. To nurse her wounds, because she had been wounded, and he felt awful about that, but it proved to him that her heart was, very definitely, involved. It went deeper than a sense of betrayal, or the anger of being lied to. And yes, maybe it made him a son of a bitch, but after long hours of confusion and abject misery, the knowledge made him feel better.
…
“Alvaresss, I can’t thank you enough for helping me pack up and move out of there. And for letting me stay here tonight.” Three margaritas didn’t dull the sincerity of Eden’s gratitude, but she heard a little slur in her words. This would have to be her last. From her reclined position on Alvarez’s slipcovered sofa, she looked over at her former roommate stretched out on the matching tan loveseat with one long leg hanging off the armrest. Her spikey dark hair fell over slumberous brown eyes. Her lips curved around the salted rim of her glass. A single table lamp held the evening at bay.
“Mija, come over anytime, for real, no questions asked, but…okay. Sorry.” She set her glass on the square coffee table between them. “I gotta ask a question. What’s going on? Did something happen with Swain?”
And just like that, Eden found herself blinking back tears. She swallowed the last gulp of her margarita. “I can’t tell you about the assignment.”
Alvarez stared at the ceiling. “This isn’t about the assignment. Even I can see that much.”
“We…uh…” She wasn’t sure she could explain without breaking down. “We were partnered on a joint op between my police department and his sheriff’s department—which I know you already know. Sorry.” She closed her eyes and shook her head.
“That’s okay. Tell it how you need to tell it,” Alvarez encouraged.
She nodded. “Over the course of working together, we got…close.” She drew in a careful breath. “Involved.”
“No!” Alvarez exclaimed, dry as dust.
“I didn’t mean to. Didn’t want to, honestly…”
“Oh, pleeeeease, Mija. At the academy we could all see the sparks flying between you two. That parking lot kiss on graduation day? Caliente.” Alvarez fanned her face. “Muy caliente.”
“That was…I had a point to prove that afternoon.” She squinted, trying to remember the specifics. “I think.”
“The point you proved was the chemistry between the two of you could not be contained. When you told me you’d been teamed on an assignment, I knew it was only a matter of time before you two got together.”
“Yeah, well. Biggest mistake of my life.” She sat up, balanced her forearms on her knees and stared at the floor. “He told me not to trust him. I shouldn’t have, because I knew he’d do whatever it took to make the op work, even if that meant using me, but over time I thought things were different. Real.”
“What has you so convinced they weren’t?”