A Little Too Late (Madigan Mountain #1)(25)

“I smile all the time,” she announces, shrugging the jacket off. I barely catch it before it hits the sidewalk. “I didn’t smile for like three years after you left me. But I’m better now. I’m good.”

“I’m very glad to hear that.”

“I’ll bet,” she mutters.

“No, it’s true. I left you so you could be happy eventually.”

Ava stops walking abruptly. “What? That makes no sense. I’m super drunk right now. And still a hundred percent sure that makes no sense.”

Yikes. Ava deserves this explanation, but she’s probably too drunk to hear it. And I’ve had more lucid moments, too. “You know, we’ll discuss this in the morning.”

“No, we won’t. But just so you know—telling a girl that the reason you abandoned her after she had a miscarriage was so she could be happy? That’s pretty much the definition of cruelty.”

I heave a sigh. “Yeah. I know that now.” At the time, though, I’d thought of myself as a toxic cloud of darkness. Removing myself from Ava’s life felt like the only option. But she doesn’t need to hear me arguing with her. “Okay. You’re right. I’m a monster.”

“You are,” she agrees. “A hot, irritating monster. Your assistant is nice, though. You should give her that raise.”

I bark out a laugh. “Everyone likes Sheila. She’s a great kid.”

Ava’s eyes narrow. “Stop doing that.”

“What?”

“You’re smiling. Don’t. That smile makes me stupid.”

I can’t help it. I laugh, because Ava hasn’t been stupid a day in her life.

“Cut. It. Out!” She gives a full body shiver and snatches my jacket out of my hands. “Give me the jacket. But save the smiles for your girlfriend.”

“Right. Except I don’t have one.” And now the smile falls right off my face. I’ll have to call Harper again tomorrow and apologize. And also, I should just break off our casual arrangement. She deserves better.

We’ve reached the path that leads toward the employee buildings. “Don’t follow me,” Ava says. “You got upgraded, remember?”

“Yup. But it’s a nice night for a walk. This cold air is sobering me up.”

Ava regards me with a serious glare. Or she tries to. But a very drunk woman in a jacket that’s several sizes too large can only look so serious. “Walk somewhere else. I’m going home alone,” she says. “Thanks for the jacket.”

Then she marches off. Almost. As I watch, she stumbles again, this time going down hard on the cold concrete. “Damn it!” she shrieks. “My shoe!”

I look down and see that one of her high heels has snapped off.

“Uh-oh.”

She picks up the broken piece and flings it toward the hotel. “I was about to storm off! I was making a dramatic exit.”

“I saw. It was going super well,” I tell her. “Definitely got that vibe.”

She lets out a groan as I scoop her off the ground. And, yeah, the velvet dress is just as touchable as I’d imagined.

“What are you doing?” she yelps.

“We tried this your way. Now we’re going to do it my way.”

“No!”

“Too late.” I toss her over my shoulder, and she lets out a shriek.

I’m deaf in one ear now. Still, I don’t slow down.





Once I get her into the hotel elevator, she stops shouting. Although she’s still complaining. She holds up the wall with two hands and tells me all the ways I’ve ruined her evening. “Damn you, Reed. It wasn’t supposed to go like this.”

“What wasn’t?” I press the button.

“I had all these big ideas about what would happen if you ever showed up here again.”

“Did you?” I’m carrying my jacket and what’s left of her shoes.

“You know it. I pictured you showing up when I was looking fiiiiine.” She tips her head back when she says it, and for the fiftieth time tonight, my eyes try to stray to her cleavage.

“You do look fine,” I point out. “Really fiiiiiine. But I didn’t think you’d want me to say so.”

“I don’t,” she snips. “But I wanted you to think it.”

“Understandable.” I bite back my smile as the elevators part on my floor. I get out and lead the way to the Vista Suite, and she follows like a baby duck. A drunk one.

“I wanted you to feel very bad,” she insists. “In this scenario I’m having a great hair day, and I’m dating a local hunk.”

There’s a sudden pressure in my chest as I scan the key card. “You’re dating a local hunk?”

“No,” she grumbles. “Not really. But I could be.”

I exhale. “Of course. Now come in here and warm up. I’ll give you some clothes. And if you are dead set on going home, you can borrow my boots and lace them up tight.”

Ava walks into the suite and stops in the center of the living room. Then her eyes snap toward me as if she realizes we’re alone in my hotel room. “I am totally going home.”

“Okay,” I say heavily. “But is there a late-night bellhop we can call to drive you up the hill?” Otherwise, I’m about to change into all my warmest clothes and make a second attempt at walking her home. And neither one of us would enjoy it.