I hopped up, reaching out a hand. “How about we just train as friends?”
“Not friends.” He clasped my hand. “Brothers.”
“Brothers.” We were brothers, weren’t we? Foster and I had been brothers long before I’d married Eloise. But damn, I liked that it was official. “All right. Let’s get to work. Keep your woman happy.” And mine too. Eloise liked the definition at my hips.
We spent the next two hours in the ring, sparring and doing drills. Neither of us needed an event, a championship fight, to push ourselves. We trained because it was the outlet we’d both come to rely upon. And when sweat drenched my shirt, when my legs were warm and my muscles loose, Foster and I returned to the mats to stretch and cool down.
“So what kind of job do you want?” he asked.
“Hell if I know.” I wasn’t even sure what kind of opportunities there were in Quincy. “For now, Eloise needs some help at the hotel.”
The Fourth of July had been hectic this past week. The rodeo last weekend had been a unique experience, something I hadn’t thought I’d enjoy. But we’d ended up having a great time. Eloise’s excitement had been contagious. Even with her family there, I’d had fun—probably because I’d sat toward the end of our row with Foster on one side and Eloise on the other.
Even after the celebrations, Quincy was crawling with tourists. The hotel was swamped and that six-hour window between check-out and check-in was pure insanity.
Eloise had given me a crash course in housekeeping and running their industrial washers and dryers so I could contribute. It had been the right decision for her to fire Blaze, especially since she’d told me he caused more work than he actually accomplished. But she still had a part-time hole in her staff, which I had tried to help fill.
“It’s good of you to help her,” Foster said. “Talia said this was the busiest she’s ever seen Quincy or the hotel.”
“Happy to.” It was the truth. I’d never been a man who needed the spotlight. At the moment, I was content to do whatever it took for Eloise to shine.
Was that my calling? I’d never felt like I had some grand purpose in life. I was a man content to help someone else achieve their dreams. First Foster. Then Eloise.
That sounded like a good plan for now.
“Speaking of the hotel,” I said, shoving up to my feet. “I’d better head home and take a shower. Then get downtown to see what’s happening.”
“I think we’re heading that way later.” Foster stood too, following me out of the ring. “Talia wants to eat at Knuckles tonight. You guys want to join us?”
My first reaction was to say no. Cooking Eloise dinner before stealing her away to bed had become the highlight of my day. But maybe she’d like a date. “Yeah. Maybe. Let me talk to Eloise.”
Foster nodded and lifted a hand, waving as I headed outside.
I drove home, hurried through a shower and threw on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Then I snagged the ring from the drawer, shoving it in a pocket before I headed to the kitchen to pack a lunch for Eloise and me.
I was about to leave but something stopped me. I turned around in the space, taking in the counters. Had I forgotten something too?
“Huh.” Strange. There was an odd twist in my gut, almost like a sense of dread.
I let the still house sink in. I listened for anything amiss—running water or an uncommon electrical buzz. But the A-frame was quiet. Normal.
Eloise’s forgetfulness must have rubbed off. So I shook away the feeling and headed into town.
The only open parking spaces downtown were two in the alley behind The Eloise. I parked the Yukon and instead of going inside the hotel, I crossed the street, swinging by the jewelry store before heading next door to get in line at Eden Coffee.
Lyla looked as swamped as she had been all week, but her smile never wavered. Eloise did that too. If a visitor had a bad experience at the hotel, it wouldn’t be because of my wife.
“Hey.” Lyla let out a deep breath when it was my turn in line. “Oh my God, this day has been nonstop.”
“Need anything?”
“No.” She shook her head. “But thanks for asking. What can I get for you?”
“An iced coffee for Eloise.”
“Coming right up.” She smiled, then got to work. The moment Lyla slid the plastic to-go cup across the counter, she greeted her next customer.
I made my way across Main, glancing down the busy sidewalks.
Twenty feet from the hotel, that same strange feeling I’d felt at home hit. A niggle. A pit forming in my gut. I glanced around, feeling eyes on me, but there were people everywhere. And not a familiar face in the bunch.
It was that goddamn kid. Blaze. It wasn’t only Eloise’s busy workload that had kept me close to the hotel. It was that kid.
No one had seen him since the day Eloise had fired him last week. According to Anne, Blaze’s mother had been mortified that he’d gotten fired and had grounded him for life.
Still, I didn’t trust Blaze. I didn’t like his obsession with Taylor. And I sure as fuck didn’t like the look he’d given my wife.
Eloise was sitting at the desk when I walked into the lobby. Her fingers flew across her keyboard, her eyes narrowed in concentration. But when she looked up and saw me, that smile she gave me chased away any of the worry.
One look and I was instantly okay.
“You got me a coffee.” She pressed her hand to her heart. “Best husband ever.”
I chuckled, setting it and lunch beside the empty cup on her desk. Then I leaned in to drop a kiss to her cheek. “How was your morning?”
“Fine. How was Foster?”
“Good.”
She looked me up and down. “No blood? No bruises?”
“Not today.”
“Then Foster gets to live.”
Only Eloise would take on Foster Madden, the Iron Fist, because he’d dared punch her husband.
Fuck, but I loved her. More and more each day.
“How about dinner tonight?” I asked.
“Don’t we eat dinner every night?”
“Smart ass.” I tickled her ribs, earning a yelp. “How about we go out to dinner?”
Eloise’s jaw dropped. “Jasper Vale, are you asking me out on a date?”
“Well, you are my wife. Maybe it’s time we went on a date.”
Her eyes softened. “Say it again.”
“Will you go out to dinner with me?”
“Not that. Call me your wife again.”
“Wife.”
Eloise put her hand on my cheek, leaning in for another kiss. “About this dinner.”
“Knuckles?”
“Or . . . my parents invited us to the ranch.” She tensed, probably expecting an instant rejection.
It was there, on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so I held it back.
“We haven’t talked about . . . you know,” she said. The fight. “I’ve been thinking about everything you said. You made a lot of valid points. And I heard you. But, babe, your parents suck. Mine don’t.”
I arched an eyebrow. She was right about my parents. Her own?
“They aren’t perfect.” Eloise held up her hands, probably because she knew exactly what I was thinking. “They don’t claim to be. But they love me.”