“Jesus Christ, man. Don’t do that.”
I turn my head over my shoulder. “You could make it easier by giving me the room number or else I’m moving up a floor.”
He shakes his blond head. “You like her a hell of a lot, huh?”
“So much that I’m out of patience.” I turn back around and head toward the elevator, ready to shout the fucking building down until I find her.
“1212!” he hollers at my retreating back.
“You might as well come along unless you want to sleep in a different room than your wife.” If this goes my way, Evie will be sleeping in my bed tonight.
The door to his room clicks shut seconds before his footsteps trail mine.
We both hold remaining retorts until I start to barrel off the elevator on the twelfth floor. Eric steps in my path.
“You better make this right by her. I don’t care how you do it. Even if you have to break up with her, just be a fucking man and don’t jerk her around. Her heart can’t take that. If this other woman means something to you, then leave Evie alone. Don’t think because I’m leaving tomorrow that I won’t hop the first flight back just to kick your ass.”
“I respect you for saying that. Now I hope you’ll return the favor when I say this other woman is my ex-wife and the mother to my son. For that, she’s earned her place in my life, but beyond those titles, she means nothing.”
Eric moves out of my way but remains close behind. Rather than knocking, he uses his own key card to let us inside. Despite our first interaction, I like this guy. His actions prove he has his sister’s best interests in mind.
“What are you doing back?” Caiti stands from one of the queen beds, stopping short when I emerge from behind her husband. “Oh, hell no. You can turn your ass back around where you came from.”
All I can do is hold my hands up as this little five-foot-two, one-hundred-thirty-pound powerhouse barrels toward me. And choke down the laughter rising to the surface. I haven’t been slapped by a girl since high school, and I’m not eager for a repeat experience.
“Call her off, Eric. I have shit to do,” I mumble to her amused spouse. He actually does laugh while intercepting his wife in a bear hug.
“Let them be, baby.” He chuckles close to her ear. From my perspective, she appears to melt in his arms.
The desire to laugh dies as I fixate on Evie. A plastic bag of ice rests on her ankle.
“What the fuck happened?”
Her dull expression stops me in my path. “I tweaked it.”
Tweaked it while fleeing my fucking ex-wife? “Can you walk?”
She nods.
I jerk my head toward the door. “Give me a second, Evie?”
“Sure.”
I wait patiently as she leashes Ghost for a potty break. Either she’s hiding the pain or her ankle isn’t too bad. My stomach pitches when I realize she doesn’t intend to leave with me. And why would she? The only place we have to go is the house she just found out belongs to my ex-wife. As soon as she’s close enough that I could count the freckles on her cheeks if I wanted, I confiscate the lead from her hands.
“Let me help.”
Her despondent demeanor hits me. This is the first time I’ve seen her sullen and quiet like this. Even on the day of the hike, she was vibrant and passionate in sharing her pain. This silent side doesn’t feel like the Evie I’ve come to know.
She walks beside me to the elevator bank. By the time I hit the call button, she still hasn’t spoken, and it twists me up inside. The least she could do is send some of her fiery attitude my way and put me in my place.
My index finger
slides beneath her chin, tilting her gaze to meet mine while I press her back against the wall.
“I’m sorry for hurting you.” I force my gaze to remain steady on her gorgeous eyes. While I try to convey the seriousness in my statement, a line of tears catches on her lower lids.
Fuck.