Jasper Vale (The Edens)

There were three couples inside the lobby at The Eloise Inn. Two were chatting with each other while the third stood at the reception counter, talking to Eloise.

She smiled as she talked, radiating that gorgeous light, and handed them their key cards. Her hair was up today, not a tendril out of place. The white, button-down shirt she wore was pressed and crisp across her slender shoulders. When she pointed to the elevators, my ring on her finger glinted beneath the lobby’s lights.

I slipped inside, walking toward the fireplace.

Eloise’s gaze flicked my way. She smiled a little wider but otherwise didn’t miss a beat with her guests.

She’d snuck out this morning. Or maybe she’d said goodbye and I’d missed it. Last night was the hardest I’d slept in years.

It was strange to have my past out in the open. Part of me was relieved. Eloise should know what she was getting into before this wedding. But an unease, a vulnerability, had stirred this morning, mixing with the relief. The combination had left me raw.

No one knew the whole truth about my parents or Samantha. And though Sam had been there, I’d told Eloise things about Dan Sensei that even Sam didn’t know.

Eloise wanted to know me better than anyone. Now she did.

How long until she realized she could do a hell of a lot better?

Maybe she already had. Maybe she was counting down the days until this wedding was over and she’d be free.

Meanwhile, I was beginning to fear each and every day that passed. Time was going too damn fast.

Eloise finished with one guest, motioning the next in line forward. So I took a seat on one of the lobby’s leather couches, glancing around as I waited.

The morning sunlight streamed through the crystal clear windows. I hadn’t visited the inn often, but this was my first visit when a fire wasn’t burning in the hearth. Instead of a woodsy, smoky scent, it smelled like spring. Fresh. Clean. Fragrant. There was a small bouquet of flowers on the coffee table beside three artfully arranged magazines.

Every detail was designed to make guests feel welcome. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind who’d bought those flowers or placed those magazines.

“Hey, Jasper.” Knox Eden rounded the end of the couch, hand extended. The tattoos on his arm were visible today beneath the short sleeves of his Knuckles T-shirt.

“Knox.” I stood, shaking his hand as tension crept into my shoulders.

Our first encounter at Eloise’s old rental hadn’t been great. The dinner at the ranch hadn’t been much better. Their family was . . . different. Night and day to my own.

Last night, after Eloise had fallen asleep curled into my side, I’d thought long and hard about my family. About Samantha. About those phone calls I’d been taking for years.

Was the reason I always answered because she was the only one to call? Because Sam was my only connection to anything that resembled family? Was that why I was so resistant to the Edens? Some lingering resentment for my own that I projected onto her family?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

They still didn’t support her like she deserved. They still wanted to change her.

“Eloise said you guys are taking off for a wedding soon,” Knox said. “Italy?”

I nodded. “The Amalfi Coast.”

The trip would take twenty-two hours with the various stops and time changes. We’d be leaving early Thursday morning to arrive in Naples midday Friday.

“She’s excited,” Knox said.

“Me too,” I lied.

The wedding would likely be a disaster. And though I was looking forward to a weekend away with Eloise, of hotels and time alone together, this trip marked the end.

Her laugh rang through the lobby, drawing my attention. That smile of hers was brighter than any light bulb. Any star. She beamed, entirely in her element.

“She loves this hotel,” I told Knox.

“She does. Always has.”

“This is her dream.” Wading into the Eden family business wasn’t really my place, but the whole point of our marriage was to ensure her future here was secure. For that, for her dream, I’d dive into the deep end. “She wants it more than anything.”

“It’s hers. Maybe not officially. Not yet. But Mom and Dad know it’s hers.”

I glanced back to her, to that breathtaking smile. “She’s scared they’ll take it from her.”

“They won’t.”

“You’re sure?” I asked Knox.

He gave me an apologetic smile, like the fact that I even had to ask was a failure on their family’s part. “You don’t know us very well. We look out for each other. Maybe timing hasn’t been right in the past, but our parents know it’s her dream too. They want that dream to come true for her.”

“You’re sure?” Same question, met with the same apologetic smile.

“One hundred percent.” He believed it.

Wasn’t this all I needed to hear? Knox’s assurance meant this marriage hadn’t fucked up Eloise’s reputation. Her family still saw her as responsible. Now I could walk away.

Except something was happening here. Something I couldn’t quite grasp. It was like my shoes were getting heavier. Like there were roots growing beneath my feet.

And they were pulling me toward the woman at the hotel’s reception desk.

The idea of being tied to someone again made my stomach churn. But as my gaze drifted to Eloise again, to that smile, the roiling slowed. It didn’t stop, but it calmed.

Knox followed my gaze, staring at his sister. “This hotel is the heart of Quincy. And Eloise is the heart of this hotel. Don’t break it.”

“I won’t.”

A fool’s promise. But I made it anyway. Hurting Eloise wasn’t an option.

If she wanted me to walk away, if she wanted her own freedom, I’d go.

But if she wanted me to stay . . .

It had happened last night, when I’d stood on the porch of the A-frame, watching my wife stand beneath the trees wearing only a towel, letting the rain soak her face.

Eloise was my wife.

There wasn’t a damn thing fake about this marriage. Not anymore.

So we’d get through this wedding in Italy. Then we’d talk. Once she saw the world where I’d come from, she could decide.

If she still wanted to end it, I’d walk away.

With the final guest checked in, Eloise waited for them to collect their luggage and make their way toward the elevators. Then she hopped off her stool and walked over, her feet practically floating over the hardwood floors.

She moved with grace. With lightness. Like she had invisible wings.

“Hi, angel.” I held out an arm, waiting until she slid into my side. Then I dropped a kiss to her hair.

“Hi.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked up, probably glad I was putting on a show for her brother. Or maybe, if I was lucky enough, she was just as glad to see me as I was to see her. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d see if you wanted to go to lunch since you didn’t pack one.”

“How did you know I didn’t pack a lunch?”

Because there hadn’t been a knife covered in peanut butter and jelly when I’d put my breakfast dishes in the dishwasher this morning. “Did you?”

“No.” She smiled. “I was either going to get something from Lyla’s or beg my favorite older brother to make me lunch.”

Knox chuckled. “Griffin is your favorite older brother.”

“Yes, but this is your chance to beat him out.”

“That’s what you said the last time I made you lunch.”

“I did? Oh.” She lifted a shoulder. “See? You’re already the favorite. Congratulations. So about that lunch . . .”

Knox shook his head, his gaze shifting my direction. “You like ahi tuna?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Our delivery truck just got here. Let me help the crew get everything put away, then I’ll make you lunch. I’ve been wanting to try something, but Memphis won’t eat tuna right now, so you can be my test subjects. Give me thirty.”

“Thank you.” Eloise leaned her cheek against my chest. “I owe you and Memphis a night of babysitting.”

“Deal.” Knox winked at her, then headed toward Knuckles.

“Okay, let me check in with the housekeepers and get someone to come man the desk.” Eloise untucked herself from my side.

“I’ll hang out.” I jerked my chin for her to go do her thing while I took the same seat on the couch, reading an online article about a man who completed 101 consecutive triathlons in 101 days.

If Foster wasn’t fighting, maybe I could train for a race. An Ironman or something.

Working as a trainer had never been about the money. As a member of the Vale family, I had my own trust. That fortune, held in my name since birth, mostly sat untouched. I didn’t need or want a flashy life.

But it gave me freedom. Freedom to buy an A-frame cabin in Montana. Freedom to pay cash for a diamond ring from the local Quincy jeweler. Freedom to make sure that if the Edens ever did sell The Eloise Inn, I’d buy it in a heartbeat for Eloise.

And while I didn’t need to work, I liked setting goals. Challenges. Maybe I could convince Foster to do a race. The two of us could train together. There was a Spartan race in Bigfork in May. We’d missed this year but maybe next.

If I was still in Montana.

Eloise appeared over my shoulder, dropping her forearms to the back of the couch. “Ready?”

“Yep.” I nodded, tucked my phone away and followed her into the restaurant.

“Mondays are usually slow,” she told me, waving at the waitress who motioned for us to take any table we wanted.

Eloise picked one in the center of the room, so I pulled out her chair, then took the seat beside hers.

“Why do you always take the seat beside me?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You never sit opposite me when we’re eating. You always sit beside me. Is that like an East Coast manners thing?”

No, I just didn’t like having a whole table between us. The corner was enough. “Makes it easier to talk this way.”

“Because you talk so much,” she teased.

“I talk to you.”

Her eyes softened. “I guess you do.”

Last night’s conversation seemed to hang over our heads. Or maybe just mine.

“Does Foster know about your ex?” she asked.

“No.”

“Why’d you tell me?”

There was an eyelash on her cheek. I reached over to run my thumb across her skin, collecting the eyelash. With it on my finger, I held it out. “You asked me to try.”

Eloise stared at the eyelash for a long moment, like she was making a wish, then she blew the eyelash away, sending it floating to the floor. She unrolled her silverware from her napkin before draping the white cloth on her lap. “Are you going to take that job?”

Only if she wanted me to leave Quincy. “I don’t know. The guy seems nice enough. He’s young. Which either means he’s coachable or he thinks he already knows everything. I didn’t spend enough time with him to find out.”

“Why didn’t you?”

I unrolled my own silverware, waiting for her to answer her own question.

“You missed me,” she whispered, almost like she didn’t think it was real.

The waitress came over with glasses of ice water, interrupting our conversation to say hello to Eloise and introduce herself to me. She didn’t bother with our order since Knox had already told her he was making us lunch.

“So . . .” I said, leaning my forearms on the table as the waitress left. “Thought we could talk logistics about the wedding.”

“All right.” Eloise turned the rings on her left hand, spinning them clockwise.

“We’ll get there the day before the wedding. Thought we’d need a little time to adjust to the time difference. Get some sleep.”

“And explore?” She pinched her thumb and index finger together. “Just a tiny little bit. I’ll sleep when we get home.”

“And we can explore.” We’d do whatever her heart desired. “The wedding is in the evening on Saturday. I thought we’d skip the actual ceremony. Just go to the reception.”

“Fine by me.” Eloise’s gaze dropped to the table.

The ceremony would be boring as fuck. And I didn’t feel like sitting beside my parents any longer than necessary.

“My parents will be there so you’ll meet them.”

“And they’ll probably hate me because I’m not Sam.” She sat taller, raising her chin. “Not that I care. After everything you told me last night, I already hate them too.”

This woman. She was a warrior, fighting in my corner. Ready to go to battle.

That was going to be the hardest thing for her to grasp. There’d be no battle, not with my mom or dad. They didn’t care enough to hate. To fight. At least, not for me.

Eloise would realize it soon enough. But for now, if she wanted to brace herself for some confrontation with Mom and Dad, I’d let her.

Chances were, she’d need that shield up for Samantha.

“I need you to remember something,” I said.

“What?”

“It’s all bullshit. What they think of me. The man I used to be. What they think really happened with Sam. None of it’s real. Don’t buy into anything. Just . . . trust me.”

“Easy enough. I already do.” She spoke the words effortlessly. As a woman who’d lived her life trusting.

The filth in the world would try and take advantage of her pure heart. That was fine. She didn’t need to change. To worry. She wasn’t the only warrior at this table.

She could prepare all she wanted, no one at this wedding was going to fuck with her.

Not my parents.

And certainly not Sam.

Or for the first time, I’d spill all of my ex-wife’s dirty secrets.

Even if that meant spilling mine in the process.