There was shame in her voice, like someone had made her feel bad for who she was. For that heart. It pissed me off instantly. Especially if that someone had been in her family.
“I was trying too hard to be a friend instead of a boss. Professional boundaries weren’t exactly my forte.”
“Who told you that?” I asked.
“Well, my parents. But mostly, experience.” Her lip curled. “The week after Dad fired the guy, we were sued for wrongful termination and sexual harassment.”
“Damn.”
“He said I propositioned him.” Eloise’s arms wrapped around her waist. “I’ve never felt so dirty. And you know the worst part? I started to doubt myself. I replayed that night at Willie’s a thousand times. Every smile. Every laugh. Every word. I wondered if I’d gone too far. If anything I’d done could have made him feel uncomfortable. When all I wanted was to be nice. Include him.”
I leaned forward, dropping my elbows to my knees, shifting just a bit closer toward that hand drawing on the couch. “I doubt you did anything wrong.”
“We still got sued. If I had fired him after the first shift he’d skipped, it would have been done.”
“He probably would have sued you anyway.”
She gave me a sad smile. “That’s what my dad says. That no matter what, the guy was always going to be trouble. He got a smarmy lawyer and thought he could get rich suing my family.”
“What happened with the lawsuit?”
“We won.” There wasn’t an ounce of joy in her voice. No victory. “It was stressful and horrible, but at least we won. Mom and Dad dealt with most of it. They knew it was hard on me so they took care of it.”
But in doing so, her parents had decided she couldn’t handle the hotel.
“I’ve worked hard these last few years,” she said. “Really hard. No more friendships with the employees. No more nights at Willie’s. Whenever my parents need a favor, I drop everything to say yes. And I’ve apologized to them more times than I can count. My life is that hotel, and it’s paying off. We’re having one of the best years ever.”
“Then isn’t that enough?”
“It should be.” She blew out a long breath. “My parents came to me last month. They think I’m ready. And in my heart of hearts, I know I can do it. I know I’m the right person to do it.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“It’s taken three years. Three years of being perfect. No mistakes. No reckless decisions. Until—”
“Me.”
Her finger stopped moving. “Please don’t take that the wrong way.”
All that, and she was worried her confession would hurt my feelings. That I didn’t see our marriage as a mistake.
That tender heart was as beautiful as the starry night sky outside.
“I don’t.”
She brought her hand to her lap to fidget with her fingers. “My parents think I’m soft. Too trusting. Too naive. Maybe I am.”
“You’re worried they’ll think I’m taking advantage of you.”
“Yes.”
“Do you worry about that?” I held my breath, waiting for her answer. Waiting to hear what kind of man she thought I was.
“No. I think you need a date to a wedding. And as your wife, I’m the obvious choice. You’re helping me. I’ll help you.”
My frame relaxed. How she trusted me, I wasn’t sure. But she could. I didn’t need any of the Eden fortune. I wasn’t interested in getting involved with their businesses or meddling with the family dynamic. I just . . . was too much of a coward to face Sam alone.
“Why are you going to your ex-wife’s wedding?” Eloise asked.
“It’s complicated.”
She gave me a sideways glance. “She’s not marrying your brother or father or something strange like that, is she? I saw that in a movie once.”
I chuckled. “No, nothing like that. I’m pretty sure she invited me as a dare.”
“A dare? What do you mean?”
“To see if I’d show. She told me once that I’d never be happy without her. This wedding is her way of testing me.”
Except the joke was on her. This wedding was going to be my way of testing myself. Of facing those old demons.
It was probably a horrible decision—wouldn’t be my first or last where Sam was concerned. The smart thing to do was say no. To do my best to forget. Except I’d been trying that for ten fucking years.
And I still couldn’t shake her.
“I get it.” Eloise nodded. “If you don’t go, then she wins. She’ll think you’re miserable or still in love with her.”
“Something like that,” I muttered. “Like I said, we have a complicated relationship.”
“Sounds like it.” Eloise relaxed into the couch, her head against the back. “Thank you for doing this.”
My finger reached out, acting on its own, to touch a wisp of hair at her temple. “I’m the one who should say thanks. It was my idea.”
“Think it will work?”
I shrugged. “No idea. But at this point, I figure . . . it can’t hurt.”
She leaned into my caress, those brilliant, blue eyes looking up at me from beneath long, sooty lashes.
My heart thumped. A spark zinged beneath the finger still toying with her hair.
“We’ll have to convince my family this is real.”
I nodded, my gaze shifting to her soft lips, watching how they formed every word.
Eloise talked fast. At times, the words ran together, and if I wasn’t listening closely, I’d miss something. But if I watched those lips, I caught every word.
Or maybe I was just totally fixated on her mouth.
“Not to jump straight into the fire here, but we should talk logistics,” she said. “First, we probably need to start by living under the same roof.”
The A-frame. I hadn’t seen more than the entryway and living room of her place, but I wanted to stay here.
“Actually . . .” I shifted, inching closer. My hand in her hair threaded deeper, sliding into the thick tresses at her temple. “That’s not the first step.”
“It’s not?” Her breath hitched as I leaned in closer.
“No.” I bent to run my nose along the long column of her throat. “First, we do this.”
I wanted Eloise on my tongue.
Her pulse fluttered beneath my lips as I kissed my way down her neck to her collarbone. Her head lolled to the side as her hand drifted to my hair. “Jasper.”
The way she said my name . . .
I turned hard as a rock.
My hands trailed down her thighs, stopping at her knees. I stood from the couch, and with a fast yank, I pulled her until she was flat on her back.
Eloise reached for me, but I swatted her hand away, reaching for her leggings instead. With the waistband balled in my fists, I peeled them off her legs, whipping them away so fast she yelped and slid even deeper down the couch.
She wore a black thong, the lace delicate with a scalloped edge.
With one swift tug, I shredded the seams, sending the scrap sailing over my shoulder to the floor.
“Hey.” She scowled. “I liked those.”