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She sighed, still avoiding my eyes. “I’m too tired for a lecture or another argument, West. I just want to grab my stuff, find somewhere to sleep, and focus on the wedding expo.”
“You have a place to stay already.”
With a growl of frustration, her dark-brown eyes finally met mine. “No, I don’t.”
“Didn’t you say we were friends?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then as your friend, I’m telling you to just share my fucking room, Emmy. Because you’ll probably have to get a hotel room in a casino, get tired driving back and forth from the event hotel, and then you won’t be at your best, which means lost business. Then I’ll get an earful from Abby, who will tell my aunt. And who the fuck knows what Beck will do once he finds out I was an asshole for making you find another room when there are two beds in mine.”
Some of her earlier spark returned, and I somehow kept myself from grinning.
Emmy shook her head. “A cot isn’t a bed. And I’m a grown-ass woman, West. If I end up tired and fail, it’s my fault and no one else’s.”
“If you’re a grown-ass woman, then why are you running away? I just want to help you, Emmy. It’s not like I’m going to crawl into bed and seduce you. You believe me, right?”
“I know you wouldn’t do that.”
Well, I would eventually. But definitely not until she was ready for it.
“I promise not to get into your pants, or try to kiss you, or mention anything to do with your parents or brother. Just stay with me, Emmy.” She looked torn, almost ready to give in. So I added, “Please, Emmy. You’ve helped me out so much already this summer with my kids. In return, let me help you for once.”
I kept waiting for her to say I could find somewhere else to stay. And if she asked, I’d do it.
However, that was my last resort. Because, fuck, I wanted her to stay in the same room with me. I couldn’t try to charm her in my grumpy-ass way if she was always avoiding me.
She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a long look before saying, “Fine. But if you make any mention ofthat day, or my brother, you give me the right to kick you out, and I keep the room.”
The corner of my mouth kicked up. “You’d kick me out, huh, and expect me to go?”
“Yes. And I know if I asked you to leave, you would, West. Because despite everything, you’re a gentleman under that scowling exterior.”
Well, at least she didn’t think I was some awful, heartless guy who’d been unable to save his wife from herself.
Even if I knew I’d done all that I could—sometimes you couldn’t save someone who didn’t want to save themselves—I knew her parents and others back in Ridgefield blamed me for Andrea’s death.
The fact Emmy probably didn’t, judging by her words, meant more than it should have.
I cleared my throat and put out a hand to shake. “Deal.”
She hesitated and then took my hand. Even though a jolt of heat rushed through me, I was careful not to react. I needed to build trust with Emmy before anything else.
As if burned, Emmy yanked her hand back. She said, “Oh, and you can order room service, and I’ll pay for it. Abby asked me to dinner, and I said yes. But I won’t back out of my offer to buy you dinner in exchange for letting me share your room.”
Maybe it was from years of dealing with my strong-willed, stubborn daughter, but I had a sense of when to push and when to hold off. Tonight required the latter.
Although if Emmy thought she could avoid me for the entire expo, she was in for a big surprise.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Emilia
Me:Can I crash your dinner plans and join you?
Abby:What did West do?
Me:Nothing.
