She'd turned her phone off on the way over because her sisters had a lot of thoughts about our marriage. While Maya had listened to most of them, they just kept coming.
"How about I come to Denver, too?" Maya asked, bouncing on her toes. "It's definitely time for me to get out of Vegas. Don't you think?"
I most certainly agreed. "You need extra clothes or anything?"
She shook her head. "Nope. I'm a great packer. I could live out of my suitcase for weeks."
"What about a Rookie Husband Huddle?" Finn asked, apparently still on the group chat for the team. "That seems to be in the lead for what we're gonna call this shindig."
Honestly? I liked it.
CHAPTERTWELVE
MAYA
Elliott didn't mess around—the jet arrived, and Elliott, Finn, Sloan, and I got whisked to Denver.
Angela and Emily planned to stay another day before heading back to Los Angeles. I might've felt left out, except I was on a private jet and I wasn't sure there were enough electrolytes in the world to make me feel human again.
And as soon as we landed in Denver, Elliott had a car waiting for him and Finn and another for us. Ours took us up to Sloan's house in Estes Park. We drove through town, and nothing really matched, but it all worked together with the backdrop of the mountains to create a quaint little mountain town vibe.
His house was situated off a gravel road blocked by a gate that required a code to get through. The number of swanky vehicles—Cadillacs, Porsches, Mercedes Benz—made it look like a bougie car dealership used Sloan's driveway for their overflow.
"The hell is everybody doing here?" Sloan asked as he unrolled the window of our SUV.
Our driver parked by the house—a sprawling two-story house with a chic rustic appeal. The house had logs for siding and a staircase that lead to the second-story front door from the driveway. The attached four-car garage with matching brown garage doors was built onto the side of the house away from view, likely so garage doors didn't mess up the front aesthetic.
There were trees everywhere—the kind with the spiky needles that made a mess all over the ground. Except, since this was the wilderness, that was probably not considered a mess, but an ambiance that helped set the tone.
Sloan unfolded himself from the SUV, his boots crunching against the gravel of the drive. I didn't do a full-body scan, though it took a full effort on my part to prevent it. What could I say? My eyes seemed to want to do it all on their lonesome.
"I'm sorry," he said, stepping toward me, palms up. "It looks like we've got a lot of company."
He should stop grinding his back teeth like that, or he was going to wish he'd married a dentist and not a backup singer.
"I like company," I assured him, hopping down from the car.
I didn't expect the cool mountain air to be soothing, but I swear it lessened the headache I’d fought all day.
"Looks like most of the team is here," he said.
I nodded. "Is now a bad time to tell you I don't really like football?"
"Maybe leave that part out when you make small talk, yeah?" he said.
Then his eyes melded with mine and lit with something… not desire. No fire. But definitely warm. Like he saw something he really liked and wanted more.
The thing was, I didn't hate that. Didn't hate how my body seemed to know his with a trust that didn't involve my head or my memory.
"What are the odds you think they've seen us? Maybe we scoot back down to Denver? Pretend we didn't come?" He glanced at his boots, then back up at me, catching my gaze from under his lashes.
"I didn't marry a man afraid to face his problems," I replied. "Remember, you're now Mr. Reliable. If Elliott says to stay put, we stay put. If there's a party? Well, yay us."
Although, if I was going to meet his entire team, I definitely would have selected alternate clothing choices. I'd also have added makeup because whatever I'd applied that morning, before we left Sin City, had probably melted off by now. Which, oh God, meant?—
"I can't go in yet," I whispered.
"Okay," he said. Then he paused. "Why not?"
