“And we can explore.” We’d do whatever her heart desired. “The wedding is in the evening on Saturday. I thought we’d skip the actual ceremony. Just go to the reception.”
“Fine by me.” Eloise’s gaze dropped to the table.
The ceremony would be boring as fuck. And I didn’t feel like sitting beside my parents any longer than necessary.
“My parents will be there so you’ll meet them.”
“And they’ll probably hate me because I’m not Sam.” She sat taller, raising her chin. “Not that I care. After everything you told me last night, I already hate them too.”
This woman. She was a warrior, fighting in my corner. Ready to go to battle.
That was going to be the hardest thing for her to grasp. There’d be no battle, not with my mom or dad. They didn’t care enough to hate. To fight. At least, not for me.
Eloise would realize it soon enough. But for now, if she wanted to brace herself for some confrontation with Mom and Dad, I’d let her.
Chances were, she’d need that shield up for Samantha.
“I need you to remember something,” I said.
“What?”
“It’s all bullshit. What they think of me. The man I used to be. What they think really happened with Sam. None of it’s real. Don’t buy into anything. Just . . . trust me.”
“Easy enough. I already do.” She spoke the words effortlessly. As a woman who’d lived her life trusting.
The filth in the world would try and take advantage of her pure heart. That was fine. She didn’t need to change. To worry. She wasn’t the only warrior at this table.
She could prepare all she wanted, no one at this wedding was going to fuck with her.
Not my parents.
And certainly not Sam.
Or for the first time, I’d spill all of my ex-wife’s dirty secrets.
Even if that meant spilling mine in the process.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ELOISE
The days passed in a whirlwind. It had been too long since I’d taken a vacation from the hotel, and getting every shift covered, planning backups for our backups, had consumed my life.
Packing had been a chore. I owned exactly zero elegant gowns, but when I’d told Jasper that I was going to have to take a trip to Missoula to buy a dress when I didn’t have time to take a trip to Missoula to buy a dress, he’d had ten overnighted to Quincy.
Ten dresses. All designer. I’d loved every single one, and when I hadn’t been able to choose a favorite, he’d picked his.
That dress was currently hanging in our hotel suite’s bathroom to let the wrinkles from travel loosen while I stood on our private balcony, soaking in the Amalfi Coast.
Italy. I was in Italy. With my husband.
If someone three months ago had told me I’d be here, I would never have believed it.
Jasper and I were staying in an eleventh-century hotel. There were only fifty rooms and suites, each occupied by a wedding guest. The charming building, with rounded windows and terra-cotta roof tiles, had been built into a hillside with terraced gardens stretching beneath our third-floor balcony. From this perch, the view was breathtaking.
The rocky coastline was teeming with lush greenery and cream buildings. Bridges with arched supports spanned across the jagged and steep gray cliffs. Narrow strips of sandy beaches were interspersed between the rocks. And beyond it all was the open ocean, stretching for miles and miles to the glowing horizon kissed by the setting sun.
I refused to blink, not wanting to miss a second of the dazzling view.
Twenty-plus hours of travel had wiped me out. By the time we’d finally landed in Naples yesterday, I’d been so exhausted that even the view hadn’t been able to coax my eyes open. On the hour-long drive from the airport to the hotel, Jasper’s shoulder had been my pillow.
When we’d checked into our room, he’d insisted I stay awake until after dinner, wanting me to adjust to the time difference and sleep at night. We’d explored for a few hours, walking around dead on our feet, and found a charming café for dinner. Then he’d whisked me to the room, where he’d kept me awake for another hour. After two orgasms, I’d crashed.
But the sleep had done wonders. When I’d woken up this morning, Jasper had already ordered room service. Breakfast had been waiting in our suite’s sitting room, and after a delicious meal, as promised, we’d done more exploring before we’d had to return to the hotel to get ready for the wedding.
Jasper came up behind me, wearing only a towel from his shower. His naked chest pressed against my back as his arms wrapped around my shoulders.
I relaxed, leaning against him, and closed my eyes. It was rare that he initiated a hug. If I had to choose between the view from our balcony or Jasper’s embrace, I’d choose the latter every day and twice on Sundays.
“Everything good at The Eloise?” he asked.
While Jasper had jumped in the shower, I’d called to check in at the hotel. “Mateo told me that if I called one more time today, he was going to rearrange the furniture in the lobby and change all of my color coding on the schedule.”
Jasper chuckled. “They’re fine, El.”
“Yeah.” I sighed.
Mateo was covering all of my regular shifts. Mom had volunteered to come in and help with whatever needed to be done. Memphis would be tackling housekeeping over the weekend. And because his latest shifts had been as excruciating as the first, I’d given Blaze the weekend off, not wanting to saddle my family with that burden.
Though maybe I should have paired him with Mom. Then when I fired him after this trip, she’d understand why.
My family was fully capable of running my hotel, yet I was struggling to disconnect. During our exploring today, I’d called three times.
“It’s just hard to let go,” I said.
But maybe this trip was good practice. I’d have to let go of Jasper sooner rather than later.
We hadn’t spoken about what was next, both choosing to concentrate on this trip. The conversation was inevitable, and every time it crossed my mind, my insides coiled.
“Did you have fun today?” Jasper asked.
“Yes.” I twisted to meet his gaze. His face was smooth and freshly shaved, so I lifted up on my toes to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Thanks for taking me.”
“Welcome.” He pressed his lips to my temple, then turned to the view.
Jasper had been quiet today as we’d explored, not unusual. He’d indulged me, walking at my side as I’d wandered and snapped hundreds of pictures. The only sign that he’d been enjoying himself were the crinkles at his eyes.
Except those crinkles had faded with every passing hour. And by the time we’d made it back to the hotel to start getting ready, he was back to the stone-faced man I’d lived with for months.
Was he nervous to see Sam again? Would this be painful for him, seeing the woman he’d loved—loves—marry another man? The ceremony might be too hard for him to attend, but going to the reception wouldn’t be much easier.
Last night, even tired, I’d noticed a shift in Jasper’s mood. Sex had held an edge. A frantic pace. His entire body had been tense, every honed muscle straining.
Or maybe that tension had been my own.
Was I ready for this? Somewhere nearby, the ceremony would be starting soon. Sam and her fiancé would exchange vows and rings.