Page 81 of When You Were Mine

“Well, I should let you go.” She sat up. “Wait a minute. What’s all that stuff you bought?”

He glanced at the heavy bags on the floor. “I got some souvenirs for the grandkids.” Well, the majority was for Elzy, but she didn’t need to know that. Now, he had to figure out how to get it to her. She didn’t need all this extra shit in her suitcase. He’d ask the concierge to ship it. “I’m going to shower.”

“Okay. So, I’ll see you here tomorrow for the wine tasting?”

I’ll be wherever Elzy is.“I assume that’s the plan. I’ll text her in the morning.”

“She’s dodgy, that one. If she can find another way to get back here, I wouldn’t put it past her to do it.”

“Then, I’ll sleep outside her door. She’ll have to step over me to get away.”

Darby laughed. “She doesn’t know how lucky she is to have you. See you tomorrow.” She disconnected.

After turning on the shower, he stripped off the rest of his clothes. Closing his eyes, he let the hot water sink into his cold skin.

Images flashed in his mind. Elzy’s delight when she looked at the puffin mugs. Later at dinner, the way her eyelids had fluttered shut when she’d tasted the cinnamon whipped cream on her apple tart.

And the heat in her eyes when she’d leaned in to kiss him. Holy shit, that had turned him on. He’d wanted to drag her into the club’s bathroom and fuck her senseless.

He had to win her back. Had to. The ache, the need, the drive…it was out of control.

Fuck.

He slammed the faucet shut and got out of the stall.

He wasn’t joking about sleeping outside her door. He’d do it.

Because Darby was right. Elzy would absolutely sneak away. Maybe she was doing it right now. Talking to the concierge about hiring a driver. Renting a car.

Fuck. He had to get to her. Stay close. He couldn’t let her go.

Please, Elzy, forgive me.

Put me out of my fucking misery.

You think I haven’t learned my lesson? For Christ’s sake, I spent thirty years without you. I will never hurt you again.

But he couldn’t sleep outside her door. Right? No, of course not. He had to wait till morning. He’d text her.

Fuck that. She’s leaving the day after tomorrow. He pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and called her.

Droplets of water sluiced off his skin and puddled around his feet. Snatching a towel, he rubbed it over his body. With shaking hands, he watched the screen. She wasn’t picking up.

Maybe she’d gone to sleep.

The front desk wouldn’t give him her room number—and he’d sue the crap out of them if they did—so all he could do was wait till the morning.

The call ended.

Shit. Fuck.What could he do?

Nothing.If she doesn’t want to see you, there’s nothing you can do.

A moment later, she texted.

Elzy: What’s up?

Trevor: Can we talk?

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