I’m overreacting, and I don’t care.
The only thing giving me a glimpse of ease right now is the handle of whiskey I purchased from the liquor store down the street. I needed to walk out my thoughts and stumbled upon the store just outside of the hotel.
I’m about to polish off my glass when a knock on my hotel door catches my attention. The hair on my neck begins to rise, and I realize I don’t know anyone in this town other than Collie.
Therefore, no one else knows I’m staying here except for her.
Abandoning my glass, I hustle to the door, letting it swing wide as I come face-to-face with an exhausted pair of blue eyes.
Still sparkling and no less blue. But tired, and fuck does she look like she needs a hug. Someone to breathe for her.
I have hopes and dreams to be that guy.
“Baby.” I can’t control my response when it comes to her.
“Invite me in, Ranger.” Collie’s arms rattle at her chest, and I take in the long coat I hope has kept her warm all night.
Since it’s January, there’s a sharp chill in the air.
I stepped aside, insisting she enter. Her cotton candy scent I’ve craved these past two months, quite literally has my heart on the verge of failing.
How interesting is it that a woman with such sass and spice would lather herself in the sweetest of decadence?
Collie walks less than three feet through the threshold and stops, the silence of the empty hotel room quieter than our thoughts. “How was the rehearsal dinner?”
It started at seven, so it must have been fun given she stayed all night.
I don’t give a fuck about any of that. What I care about is knowing she’s safe when I’m mere miles from her. There’s not much I can do across the country. But here—now—I don’t even need an alibi for what I’d do to protect her.
“It was just a dinner, Easton. You can lower your sword,” she tells me, laughter laced in her voice.
I inch my way closer to her stagnant frame and wrap her with my body heat. I don’t touch her. Just take pride in the invisible bond between us, loving what my closeness does to her.
It’s just us here.
“I worry. You know this,” I whisper against the strands of her hair.
“I purposely didn’t text you back.”
I chuckle, wanting so goddamn badly to hold her. “Don’t I know it.”
“The party was fun. Capri looked so happy.” Her sultry voice lowers an octave, lacking her usual zest for life. But there’s an edge to it I can’t quite identify.
“I’m glad.”
“I saw two good friends of mine. Romeo and Luca. It was nice to see them.”
Never heard those names before but I’ll ignore the urge to growl for now.
“They live in Italy.”
“Good for them.” Now, that came out like a growl.
I don’t know what’s going on here.
“I ate steak. And rice. Drank some wine. Talked with family I’ve never met before. It was eventful.”
Swear to God, you could cut the tension between us with a knife.
