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“That’s good.” Relief flashed across her face, and he realized he’d made the right decision. “How were your sessions? Learn anything new?”
They fell into an easy conversation, sharing the events of their respective afternoons and moving on to other, more pleasant topics. She was so easy to talk to—she always had been. It was a characteristic he’d taken for granted during their relationship. Fortunately, he was older and wiser now.
He watched her face as she spoke, tracked the play of emotions across her features. Everything about her interested him—her thoughts, her reactions, her emotions. Would he ever grow tired of talking to her? Was that even possible?
She smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile in return. Had his parents ever felt this way? Had his father ever sat across from his mother and gotten lost in her smile, felt himself drowning in the depths of her eyes? Had his mother ever looked at his father and felt a warm glow in her chest? Had they ever, in the history of their relationship, loved each other?
He wanted to hope so, for their sakes.
But even if they had started out with affection, somewhere along the way, they’d lost it. The same fate would have awaited him and Ainsley, had they stayed together. And even though he still loved her, he didn’t trust the future. No one in his family had ever been lucky in relationships. As much as he wished otherwise, Santiago knew he wasn’t special enough to be the exception.
And in the end, wasn’t it better to be lonely than to hurt the person you loved?
Chapter 10
Something was going on with Santiago—Ainsley could tell by his demeanor. He smiled and kept up with their conversation, but his body language was a little stiff, and there was a note of reserve in his voice that told her he was worried. Perhaps it had to do with Steve. She’d watched the two of them as they’d stood in the doorway, and she’d seen Santiago’s anger rise to the surface. For a few seconds, his normally calm and cool demeanor had disappeared as rage had bubbled up. When he’d suddenly jerked forward, she’d half stood from her seat, convinced he was about to start using his fists. But based on his reaction to Steve’s flinch, Santiago had only been trying to intimidate the man.
It wasn’t like Santiago to use his height and his body to scare someone. For him to do so now meant Steve had done something to truly anger him.
The window, she thought. Steve’s the one who broke the window.
No wonder Santiago was upset—either one of them could have been hurt last night, thanks to Steve’s temper tantrum. Had he also attacked her this morning?
She studied Santiago’s face as they walked back to the cabin together. No, she decided. If Steve had hit her with the branch, he would be stupid enough to brag about it. And if Santiago had heard that, he wouldn’t have pulled any punches. She would have had to peel him off the other man, and they would be sitting in a police station giving their statements, rather than walking into the cabin.
She waited for Santiago to close and lock the door before sharing her revelation. “It was Steve, wasn’t it? He broke the window.”
Santiago’s body went still, reminding her of a deer caught out in the open. “How did you know?”
“I saw the two of you talking before you came into the dining hall. It’s not like you to lose your temper the way you almost did. I figured Steve had said something to set you off, and I figured the window was the reason.”
Santiago nodded. “He basically admitted to it, then issued a thinly veiled threat. I don’t know what came over me, but in the moment I was angry enough to hit him.” He sounded puzzled by his own reaction, an academic trying to apply logic to an emotional situation.
“But you didn’t,” she pointed out.
“No. I didn’t. Probably for the best.” He grinned at her. “He’s definitely the type to press charges.”
“Oh yeah,” Ainsley agreed. “Speaking of charges, do you think he’s the one who hit me this morning?”
Santiago shook his head. “I wondered that myself, but based on what he said, I don’t think so. If I had any doubts, I’d probably be in jail right now for attempted murder.”
His words confirmed her earlier thoughts, making her even more convinced Brett was her mystery morning attacker. “I’m glad that’s not the case,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “I already have one man in my life in trouble with the legal system. Let’s not make it two.”
Santiago chuckled. “It would be hard to help your brother from behind bars.”
“Do you still want to talk about the case tonight?”
“Absolutely. Are you sure you feel up to it?”
Ainsley nodded. “Yes. But I want to take a bath first. I’m a little achy from this morning, and I think the hot water will help with that.”
A dark expression flashed across Santiago’s face at the mention of her attack. “Of course,” he said. “Take your time. I’ll get set up here, and I’ll have a cup of decaf coffee waiting for you when you get out.”
Ainsley groaned in anticipation. “That sounds wonderful. I shouldn’t be long.”
She headed for her bedroom, closing the door behind her with a soft snick. Then she walked into the bathroom and turned on the taps.
The water ran as she undressed. She fired off a text to Spencer, asking about a connection between Micheline and the Woodses. Then she ran her hand under the water to check the temperature: it was hot, exactly the way she wanted it. Ainsley sat on the edge of the tub and added a dollop of bath gel, smiling at the resulting explosion of bubbles. Once the tub was full, she switched off the water and slipped inside, leaning back with a sigh of pleasure.
