It had been years since I’d seen Sam. There’d been a time when our relationship had been the only good in my life. From the day we’d bonded over mutual disdain for our asshat parents, we’d filled a void in each other’s lives. We’d leaned on one another.
For so long, it had just been us. Together.
Until it had all fallen apart.
Was I scared to face Sam again? Maybe. Mostly, I was afraid of what I’d see in myself. I was afraid I’d find the man I’d been once, lingering beneath the surface. That years of distance, years of trying to be better, hadn’t really done a goddamn thing.
That no matter what, when I looked in the mirror, an unworthy man would be staring back.
Yeah, I was afraid to see Sam again.
“I have to go.” I ended the call, then I turned away from the view, stalking inside.
Foster and I were meeting at Eden Coffee this afternoon to catch up. Since his fight last month, he’d taken a break from training so I hadn’t spent every day with him like usual. When he’d texted this morning to see if I wanted coffee, I’d almost declined.
His lack of training had been my salvation. If I didn’t have to face him, then it was easier to keep Eloise a secret. But if I stayed away too long, he’d suspect something. So I walked through the house, swiping my keys from the counter and paused to take one last look at that invitation.
You are cordially invited . . .
That card had been sent to rub this wedding in my face, hadn’t it? Sent so I’d have to say no. Sam had to know that I wouldn’t go, not in a million years.
Unless . . .
What if I did?
What if I went to this wedding? What if I showed up, just to spite the past? What if I had changed?
Would I be able to finally let go? Finally get that freedom I’d been chasing for years?
“What if I went?” I picked up the invitation and ran a finger along the handwritten calligraphy.
Was I seriously entertaining this idea? Yeah. Damn it, maybe I should go. If nothing else, it would at least give me satisfaction to see everyone’s faces as I waltzed into the reception. To prove to myself I was over the past.
That I could face my parents and Sam, then walk away again.
And if I came with a date . . .
A wife, maybe?
“What am I even thinking?” I tossed the invitation on the counter and headed for the door.
I wouldn’t—couldn’t—do that to Eloise, even if one look at her would send Sam into a tailspin. Besides, it wasn’t like Eloise would want to go. Why would she? I was her soon-to-be-forgotten ex-husband. Which meant my only option was to check the With Regrets box on the RSVP card.
My molars ground together.
You win, Sam.
I wanted to go. But yeah, I was afraid. Especially to go alone.
Hurrying outside, getting far away from that invite before I did something reckless like accept, I climbed into my SUV, then drove into Quincy, doing my best to shake that phone call.
Main Street was busy, like it typically was on Saturdays. A cluster of teens walked toward the theater. A woman pushed a baby stroller toward the local toy store next door to the kitchen goods shop. Two men, each with salt and pepper hair, emerged from The Eloise Inn.
I didn’t let myself glance through the front windows as I passed the hotel. Was she working today?
It hadn’t been as hard as I’d expected to stay away from my wife. Turns out, I was scared to be in the same room as Eloise Eden. I didn’t trust myself around her. She was too tempting. Too irresistible. And I clearly had no control.
If I got addicted to sex with her, the taste of her tongue and the feel of her lips, that amazing perfume, it would only make it harder to walk away.
And though I might have bought a house, that didn’t mean much. I’d be leaving Quincy soon enough.
Just not today.
I parked in an empty space on Main. Foster’s truck was in front of Eden Coffee.
The name Eden was splashed all over this town. In my time here, I’d learned that the Edens were Quincy’s founding family and had lived here for generations. Basically, small-town royalty.
I’d mistakenly married their princess.
My stomach knotted as I headed for Lyla’s café. Eden Coffee was stenciled in gold letters on the front door. Today’s special was written in white, swirly script on a chalkboard sandwich sign in the center of the sidewalk. Through the black-paned windows, I spotted Foster at a table.
The bell above the door tinkled as I walked inside.
He looked up from his phone, jerked his chin and grinned. “Hey.”
“Hi.” I drew in a breath, smelling coffee and cinnamon. “I’m grabbing a coffee. Want a refill?”
“Nah.” He picked up his half-full mug. “I’m good.”
I walked to the counter where Lyla was waiting with a warm smile. “Hey, Lyla.”
“Hi, Jasper. What can I get for you?”
“Just a coffee. Black.”
“You got it.” She smiled wider, then moved to a large coffee pot, plucking a ceramic mug from the nearby shelf. “Haven’t seen you around much lately.”
“Been busy.” Avoiding my wife.
Lyla filled my cup, then brought it over. “Anything else?”
“No, thanks.”
“Sure, um, I was wondering . . .” Lyla hesitated, like she wasn’t sure what to say. But before she could finish, the door’s bell jingled, stealing her attention.
A couple walked toward the counter, so I slipped away to let her take their order.
I took the chair opposite Foster’s. The gurgle and hiss of the espresso machine sounded from the counter.
“How’s it going?” Maybe if we kept the conversation about him, he wouldn’t ask too many questions about me.
“Good. Damn good.”
“How’s Talia?”
“Also good.” He smiled. It was the happiest I’d ever seen my friend look. “She took Kadence to the ranch today to ride horses.”
“Sounds like fun.” I lifted my steaming mug, carefully taking a sip.
Foster leaned in a bit closer, then jerked his chin toward Lyla. “Talia would kick my ass if she knew I was saying this, but I thought you should know. I think Lyla’s got a thing for you. Don’t be surprised if she asks you out.”
My hand shook, so hard that a scorching dollop of coffee sloshed into my mouth. I winced, setting the mug down as my tongue burned. Well, fuck.
“Nah, I don’t think so.” I risked a glance toward Lyla. “She’s just friendly. I’m a customer.”
“Think it’s more than that but . . . just letting you know.” Foster held up a hand. “I’ve had enough secrets to last my lifetime. I’m all about having everything out in the open these days.”
Son of a bitch. The guilt was as bitter as my coffee.
What was Eloise waiting for? Why hadn’t she told them? Maybe she’d never planned to share the truth. Maybe she’d promised with no intention of following through.
I took a sip, not caring when it scalded my tongue. Then I glanced to Lyla again.
She was sweet. Pretty. She was Talia’s twin and the sisters were close. But when I looked at her, there was no uptick to my pulse. No crippling desire to taste her mouth.
There was only one Eden I couldn’t get off my mind.
And her name was on the hotel.