“Thank you for loving her so much,” Jack said.
“I don’t deserve to.”
“Of course you do. You might be the only man who does, in my opinion.”
“You don’t understand. All the things I said to her . . .” His stomach clenched. “She’s lived her entire life being rejected and mocked and yelled at by people who are supposed to love her, and what did I do? The same fucking thing. I accused her of pushing people away before they could hurt her, and then I just let her do it to me. Why would she ever trust me again?”
“Because you love her enough to say you’re sorry,” Jack said. “Not many people in her life have ever done that.”
That was hardly reassuring.
The rest of the flight was a painful, slow torture. When the plane finally touched down with a light bump and a hard brake, Colton was out of his seat before it was even safe. He’d arranged for cars to be waiting for them outside the hangar. Jack and Colton got in the first one, along with Mack and Liv.
The rest of the crew divided themselves up in the other two cars. When they pulled away, Colton turned off airplane mode on his phone. No messages from her. No missed calls. No voice mails.
Colton rubbed his sweaty hands on his jeans. “How are we going to get her to come down to the lobby if she’s not even answering her phone?”
“I don’t know,” Jack said.
“There’s no way they’ll give us her room number.”
“Probably not.”
The caravan of SUVs merged onto the freeway toward Georgetown. A hand rested on his shoulder from the back seat. Mack. “Breathe, Colton. We’re going to find her.”
That wasn’t what worried him.
What worried him was how she would react when they did.
* * *
? ? ?
“You want me to do what?”
The clerk at the front desk of the hotel looked like she was one second away from hitting the security button.
“I need you to check if there is a woman named Gretchen Winthrop staying here, and if so, please call her to come down.”
“Um, I can’t do that.”
“Don’t you know who this is?” Vlad asked, elbowing up to the counter. His Santa hat slipped down to his eyebrows. He shoved it back up.
The clerk shook her head.
“This is Colton Wheeler,” Vlad said. “Biggest country music star in the whole world.”
Colton winced. “That’s kind of an exaggeration.”
“Just because you haven’t put out a new album in two years doesn’t mean you’re not still the biggest.”
“Listen. I could really use your help.” Colton leaned on the counter and tried his wink on the girl. It had no effect. He stood. “I’m desperate here. The woman I love thinks she has to leave me to protect my career because I beat up her piece-of-shit brother and—”
The girl’s eyes registered recognition. “Wait. I do know you. Weren’t you just arrested for getting in a drunken brawl or something?”
“I wasn’t drunk.”
“And I think, technically, you can’t call it a brawl because it was just two people,” Vlad said. “Doesn’t it require more people to be a brawl?”
For fuck’s sake. Colton shoved Vlad behind him. “Yes, that’s me. I’m him.”
“Why is he dressed like Santa Claus?”
“It’s a long story. Please, can you check if she’s here?”
The clerk looked around, probably for her boss or security. “I don’t know. I could get in a lot of trouble for this.”
“Please,” Colton begged. “I have no way of knowing what room she’s in, and I know you can’t tell me that.”
“Why can’t you call her?”
“Because she . . . she won’t answer my call.”
The clerk shook her head. “Uh, yeah, no, I’m not getting involved in this. You could be a stalker or something.”
“A stalker with an entourage?”
She reached for the phone. “I’m going to call security.”
“Wait. Wait. Don’t do that. Give me a minute to explain. Her brother was blackmailing her to stay away from me, and I need to win her back because she hates Christmas, and I—”
“Sir, are you still drunk?”
“I wasn’t drunk.” He bent and banged his forehead on the counter.
“Colton.” Jack tugged on his elbow.
Colton shrugged him off and raised his head again. “Listen, I know this is weird—”