“It has. What about you? Your divorce has been final for a while. Any romantic prospects on the horizon?”
“I’m married to work, and I like it that way. Work doesn’t bang other women while I’m out of town.”
“But work doesn’t give very good hugs, either,” I say gently. “And we all need hugs. I’d forgotten how perfect that can be. Just to be held, you know? By someone who really wants to hold you.”
Zan’s quiet for a moment. “Yeah. I know. Be careful, big sister. Talk to you soon.”
“Talk soon,” I promise. “And Zan?”
“Yeah?’
“You’ve got this. Whatever it is. You’ve always been able to handle any challenge, no matter how big. You’ll handle this, too, and come out on top.”
“Thanks,” she says, mumbling something I can’t quite make out, then, “Love you. Be safe.”
“You, too.” I end the call, but I don’t turn to go inside.
Letting my arms drop to my sides, I tip my head back, staring up through the branches arching over the courtyard. But there are no stars to guide me tonight. The clouds are too thick.
Back in the room, I’m not surprised to find Jeffrey awake and sitting in the armchair by the window, the lamp on the desk casting his handsome face in hard sidelight and one of the magazines the hotel provides for tourists in his lap.
He looks up as I step through the door, his brows lifting. “Everything all right?”
Without a word, I cross the room, stepping out of my clogs so I’m barefoot when I crawl into his lap, wrap my arms around him, and pop my face under his arm.
He grunts softly and hugs me close. “That bad?”
“I can’t talk about it,” I confess to his armpit, which is as lovely smelling as ever. “It’s private. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” he says, making it easy for me to keep my promise to Zan. He’s so understanding. I’m sure he wouldn’t be, though, not if he knew his brother might be in danger.
But Zan is on the case, and Zan is the best at what she does—anything she does. I just have to trust that she’ll be the best at this, too, and that I’m not putting Jeffrey’s family at risk by protecting mine.
“Is there anything I can do?” He rubs his hand gently up and down my back in a way that’s so comforting it makes me feel even worse.
I don’t deserve comfort.
Not the comfort of his hands or his arms or his armpit.
I pull back, looking into his eyes, seeing nothing but concern and care reflected there. Whatever Nick’s swept up in, Jeffrey isn’t part of it. I’ve no doubt whatsoever. And maybe it’s best to keep the situation with Nick from him for now. He’s already got enough on his plate, falling in love with a woman who’s cursed, crazy, or possibly both.
He is falling in love with me, the same way I am with him. It’s clear in the way he touches his forehead to mine and says, “Or I can just be here and hope that’s enough.”
“It’s more than enough,” I whisper, shifting my head to bring my lips closer to his.
And then I kiss him, and our clothes fall away, and everything is simple again. Loving him is simple, blissful, perfect, and healing—better than any dream.
But is it enough to banish the nightmares from my past…
24
Jeffrey
Usually if something wakes me during the night, I’m up until morning. But I must have drifted off at some point because the next thing I know, Lizzy is shaking me gently awake.
“I brought you coffee and a Danish, some fruit, and a side of bacon.” She motions to the desk, where her offerings are waiting. “They were about to stop serving breakfast, so I just grabbed a few things I thought you’d like.”
I sit up in bed, rubbing a hand down my face. “What time is it?”
“Nearly eleven. Check out is in an hour.”
I curse softly. “Sorry. You should have woken me.”
“It’s fine,” she says with a smile, backing toward the bathroom. “We’ll still have plenty of time to get where we need to be. I’m just going to grab a quick shower.” She hesitates at the door, an unreadable expression flickering across her face. And then she says, “I like you, Jeffrey,” and balloons inflate inside my chest.
“I like you, too, Lizzy.”
“And not just for kissing. I like waking up with you and knowing we’re going to spend the day together, too.” She skims her fingers up and down the wood around the doorframe, her gaze following the path of her hand. “I consider you a friend. A good friend.”
“I feel the same way,” I lie, forcing myself to return her smile, holding it in place until she pops into the bathroom and shuts the door, at which point it falls to the floor and shatters.