Page 96 of Every Broken Piece
Her eyes dart to Pax, then away. “I want to carry my own weight while I’m here.”
I hand the plates off to Pax who takes them to the sink. “Tess, look at me.”
Her gaze goes everywhere but to me. I wait until she finally glances up. “I didn’t invite you here to play Cinderella. I have a housekeeper who’ll clean up what we don’t. I have Pax who has his own chores to do. Even Jack tidies up now and again.”
She swallows. “C-can you show me where I’m sleeping? I’m tired and just want to go to bed.”
My stomach feels like someone has hollowed it out. It’s barely seven o’clock but I won’t argue because I’m sure she really is tired after the stress of the past few days. “Sure. It’s upstairs.”
With heavy feet I grab her bags and lead the way up the steps, listening to her soft footsteps as she follows. I point to the first room on the right. “Pax’s room. I wouldn’t look too closely. You never know what’s growing in there.” I expect a chuckle, hope for a laugh, would be happy with a grin. I get nothing but a quick flick of her glance as we walk past.
I motion to the left. “My room.” I leave it at that when what I really want to do is steer her in there and tell her she can sleep with me. Just sleep, like we did that first night together when she had her panic attack. No expectations except to lay curled in each other’s arms. Instead, I continue down the hall and stop at the last room at the end. “This is your room.”
I open the door and step back for her to enter first. She hesitates before turning sideways to slide past me, making it painfully obvious she doesn’t want any part of her body touching any part of mine. Where’s the Spitfire who launched herself across her seat on the plane to kiss me? I want her back.
She looks around the room as I stand in the doorway. I called my housekeeper yesterday afternoon and asked her to ready the room for Tess. We don’t usually have people stay so I can’t tell you the last time anyone’s used it, or even the last time I’ve been in here. It’s decorated in variations of blues, from icy to royal, reminding me of the snowcapped mountains outside the window.
“You have your own bathroom.” I reach over and push open the door. Automatically a light comes on. She peers inside but doesn’t move from across the room.
I place her suitcases on the chair.
The fingers of her good hand toy with the pull tab of her hoodie zipper. She needs a proper winter coat if she’s staying in Denver. I make a mental note to get one for her.
“You good, Spitfire?” I reach for her but let my hand drop before I make contact because I sense she doesn’t want my touch and that hurts like hell.
She clears her throat. “I’m good. Thank you. This is very generous of you.”
Fuck that. I’m not being generous. I’m being human. I’m being the man who wants to take care of her, provide for her, give her everything she’s never been given in her life. But I can’t say any of that while she’s poised to bolt.
Damn it. Those walls of hers are higher than they’ve ever been, and I don’t know what I can do to knock them down again. Or even if Icanknock them down again.
“Jack and I’ll be in the office going over our strategy for tomorrow. You need anything you come get me. Don’t worry about interrupting.”
“I’ll be fine.”
I want to take her shoulders, pull her to me and kiss all this reserve out of her. Instead, I make sure to maintain my distance, so I don’t make her more nervous than she already is.
“My room is down the hall. If you need me tonight, I’ll be there.”
“I’ll befine.”
There it is. There’s a tiny spark of my Spitfire. It makes me feel a little bit better.
I back out of the room. “Good night, Tess.”
“Night.”
I settle behind my desk and pull my laptop toward me. Jack sits across from me, elbows on the armrests of his chair, fingers steepled and pressing into his lips. He opens his mouth, closes it.
I wait him out while my mind tries to settle. I have so much to do tonight, and I can already tell I’ll be worth shit because all I picture is Tess’s defeated expression. All I feel is her lips pressed against mine on the plane. It’s fucking with my mind and if I don’t watch it, it’ll fuck with this meeting tomorrow.
“What the hell was that?” Jack finally asks.
I take my glasses off to press my fingers into my eyes. “I don’t know. It’s like I brought a totally different person into my house. She wasn’t like”—I wave my hand toward the kitchen—“that in Cincinnati, or on the plane.” She kissed me.She. Kissed me.
Pax saunters in and collapses on the couch, pulling out his phone to immediately start swiping through screens.
“That’s not the woman I video conferenced with,” Jack says. “That woman was confident, sassy with a bit of attitude. This...” He shakes his head. “This is heartbreaking. What happened to change her?”
