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After pulling down the plates, Mitchell carried them to the table. The pedestal dining table where he’d feasted on Hope like she was his last meal. Christ, if only he’d known it was the last time, he would have taken longer. Would have never let her up from his bed the following morning.
“Make sure you wipe that table off,” Tully said. “I see the way you’re looking at it. That means you had her on that table and I’m going to need it to be clean.”
“I fucked up.” He walked to the orange-scented spray he used to clean with and wiped down the table, even though it had already been cleaned.
“Yes, we know, and you’ll not get any arguments from us on the magnitude of your fuckup.” Tully grunted and shimmied to the music. “What we have to do is figure out how you’re going to get her back.”
If only.
“Get her back? Why would she want me back?”
“Because she’s in love with you.”
Mitchell whipped around to see Emma and Dawson walk in, each carrying casserole dishes.
The women placed them on the counter and walked to him. Despite glaring at him, they each gave him a kiss on the cheek before smacking him on the chest.
“That woman is in love with you,” Dawson said. “Don’t worry, we’re not staying. We have better things to do than help you out of this hole. The food is for the next few days because you’re feeling sorry for yourself but you’ll still need to eat while you figure this out.”
“When you’re ready, we know where she’ll be.” Emma narrowed her gaze at him. “We like her and think you two are perfect for each other.”
He looked to Tully and Linc. Both men shrugged.
“Our women are fucking brilliant,” Linc said.
“We are,” Dawson said. “We’re going to leave so you can return to the grunting, grabbing, and farting portion of your day.”
The women blew out as fast as they’d come in and he blinked as he tried to make sense of what they’d said.
Talk halted while they devoured the tacos. When he finished, he sat and belched. The others followed suit.
“So what’s the plan?” Tully reached for his beer and drank.
“How do I fix this? I called her a liar and said she’d only been close to me to get a story.” Shame washed over him. “I didn’t want to hear her explanation and worse, I sided with my mother.” God, if he could do it again, surely there would be a different outcome.
“Yeah,” Linc said, no hint of any amusement. “Not your smartest moment.”
He thumped his head on the table. “How was I supposed to know she was a science journalist? I didn’t even know that was a thing.” Mitchell had only found out after she’d left. When he’d looked up her name and realized exactly how much of an asshole he’d been to her. Honestly, he’d not thought about doing it while she was with him because…it was Hope. The bubble from their time together moved with him and it hadn’t occurred to him to look into her. It was easy in his mind. She was Hope. His Flykra. A woman who’d not known who he was when he rescued her—who’d never asked for anything. The one who’d stolen his heart.
Except, when push came to shove, he’d lumped that incredible woman into the same pot as his ex and his mother. Untrustworthy. Devious. Wanting something from him.
He banged his head once more, not even caring about the pain it caused. He deserved that and so much more for what he’d done to Hope.
“Letting her explain and not taking your mother’s side would have been my suggestion, but since that option is off the table, we move forward and figure out how we get her to listen to you and allow you to explain you were being an ass.”
He didn’t even lift up his head. “Thanks, Tully.”
“That’s why I’m here. To give you my great advice.”
“Everything reminds me of her,” he moaned. “What if I buy her a car?” He flinched when something hit him. Lifting his head, he saw a partial taco shell by him. “What the fuck was that for?”
“You think that’s going to matter to her? A woman who wasn’t impressed with your name or your wealth? Your answer is to buy her a car?” Linc shook his head.
“I don’t know. That’s how I solved things with Shawnee.”
Linc glared at him, tempting him to drop a hand and cover his junk. “What exactly is it about Hope that reminds you of Shawnee?”
“Nothing but—”
“But nothing,” his friend continued, eyes glowing like black fire. “Something from your heart, Mitchell. The woman you treated like shit is a goddamn doctor in her field and has other degrees. Christ, were we ever this dense, Tully?”
“If we were, we got past it and got our women.”
