Once Chris left for the sheriff’s office, the suite felt unusually quiet. I grabbed Pampi’s leash and clipped it onto her collar.
“Alright, girl,” I said. “Let’s go be nosy.”
The lobby had that quiet, busy hotel feel, with low conversations, the soft roll of luggage wheels, and the smell of coffee drifting from the café near the entrance.
A few handlers lingered by the seating area, talking about the upcoming Group round now that the competition had resumed.
Janet spotted me before I even reached her desk.
“Mr. Hill! Good morning. And hello again, sweetheart.” She leaned over slightly to smile at Pampi.
“Morning,” I said, steering Pampi closer. “Keeping up with everything?”
She laughed. “Barely. After the arrest and the postponement, I thought the whole event was going to collapse. Quite a few guests checked out early.”
“How many?” I asked.
“More than a handful. Some didn’t feel comfortable staying. Others had scheduling conflicts once the semi-finals were delayed.” She gave me a small smile. “I’m glad you and your husband decided to stay.”
The word husband hit harder than it should have.
“Yeah,” I said evenly. “Figured we’d see it through.”
She smiled, softer this time. “I’m glad. Things seem better between you two.”
I frowned. Her expression shifted immediately. “Oh. I’m sorry. That was probably out of line.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, keeping my tone casual.
“When you checked in,” she said carefully, lowering her voice, “it just seemed like… well, you both looked so tense. But lately, you seem happier. Lighter.”
I forced a small smile. “It was just travel stress.”
She nodded, still faintly apologetic. “Of course. I shouldn’t assume.”
I guess we didn’t exactly look like a loving married couple when we arrived. For people undercover, we’d done a spectacularly mediocre job.
Relief hit when a guest approached the desk, suitcase in hand.
Janet gave me a grateful smile. “I’ll let you get on with your day.”
“Thanks,” I said.
I stepped away, Pampi trotting beside me, and only then realized how much I missed having Chris around.
Ridiculous. He’d been gone less than an hour. Still, the space beside me felt off.
No steady warmth at my shoulder. No quiet awareness of where he stood in a room. No faint hint of sandalwood and clean soap in the air.
Before I could think better of it, I pulled out my phone.
I stared at the screen longer than necessary.
For a second, I considered sending something flirty. Something that would make him grin that slow, dangerous grin he’d worn last night when his mouth had been on my skin.
I snorted. Absolutely not. I typed instead:
Any update?
