What did he say? That he’d fallen in love with her? How was he supposed to know that? He wasn’t even sure what the hell it meant?
‘And…? What?’ his mother prompted.
‘And it’s been good. Better than good.’ That much he knew was true.
He’d never been so desperate to get home every evening, and so torn when he had to leave every morning. And it wasn’t just the sex. He missed her bright aimless chatter. Her enthusiasm for home cooking and the little flecks of paint on all her clothing. Her kindness and her compassion and the easy no-nonsense way she handled C.D. The way she blushed like a blueberry whenever he teased her and then the smart, sexy way she teased him right back. He missed every bit of their time together and not just the time they spent in bed. In fact, better than good was probably an understatement.
‘But then…’ he began. Then he spotted the sparkle of interest in his mother’s eyes and stopped again.
Okay, no way was he telling his mother about the kitchen-counter sex, or the fact that he’d failed to wear a condom. One whack across the face was enough for tonight.
‘And then she ran out on me.’
‘Hmm.’ His mother lifted a cookie and bit into it, sending him a considering look. ‘And you want her back?’
‘Yeah. I do.’ That much he was sure of. And after what his mother had told him, he also wanted an explanation as to why she’d run off, because it seemed he might have overreacted about his part in that.
His mother slung the cookie down. ‘Then what are you doing sitting around my kitchen eating cookies?’ She got up and hauled him out of his chair.
‘Hey!’
‘Zane, you’ve never spoken about any woman like this before. You need to go find that girl.’
‘I know that,’ he said, feeling exasperated himself when she shoved him down the hallway. ‘But I don’t have a clue where she is.’
His mother cocked an eyebrow as she swung the door open. ‘Then go get a clue,’ she said as he stepped out into the night. ‘You’re a detective, remember.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IONA RINSED OUT the last of her underwear in the motel’s tiny washbasin and began hanging them on the rail.
The dull pain at the memory of Zane’s face as he’d left to take C.D. for a walk had her leaning heavily on the sink. She bit into her lip to stop the stupid flood of tears returning.
She’d cried far too much in the last week. And all it did was give her a headache. She needed to get over this now. It had been a fling, pure and simple. A fling that she’d taken a mite too seriously.
And if she had woken up an hour ago and stupidly remembered it was Brandon’s christening today and spent the morning moping about hoping that Zane had gone to it, that only proved how delusional she’d become.
The knock at the door had her dumping the last of the wet underwear in the sink. Please don’t let that be the piggy-eyed guy on Reception, who kept ‘checking up’ on how she was doing.
She gasped as she checked the peephole—her knees going to jelly—and opened the door on autopilot.
‘Zane, what are you doing here?’
Am I hallucinating?
‘What am I doing here?’ he said. ‘Shouldn’t that be, what the heck are you doing here? Do you have any idea how many favours I had to beg, steal and borrow from my buddies on the force to find you?’
He strode into the room as her hand went slack on the door. Okay, she definitely wasn’t hallucinating. The guy in the debonair linen suit making the small grotty room look smaller and grottier was certainly Zane; she’d recognise that devastating face and that lean, muscular build a hundred years from now.
He swung round, his brows drawing down. ‘Most of which were borderline illegal.’ He checked the time again. ‘Do you have something fancy to wear?’
She stared dully at the knickers and camisole she had on to survive the heat—because the air conditioner hadn’t worked since day one. ‘Why do I need something fancy?’
‘For Brandon’s christening.’ He checked the time again. ‘It starts in an hour. So you better get moving.’
She shook her head, worried she might be hallucinating again, but determined not to start bawling. ‘I can’t go.’
Zane looked disconcerted, but then warm strong fingers wrapped around her forearm. ‘No way are you skipping out on this. I spoke to Nate last night, after I finally found out you were here. And somehow got roped into being Bran’s godfather.’ The puzzled frown deepened.