Jasper Vale (The Edens #4)(61)

Every detail was designed to make guests feel welcome. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind who’d bought those flowers or placed those magazines.

“Hey, Jasper.” Knox Eden rounded the end of the couch, hand extended. The tattoos on his arm were visible today beneath the short sleeves of his Knuckles T-shirt.

“Knox.” I stood, shaking his hand as tension crept into my shoulders.

Our first encounter at Eloise’s old rental hadn’t been great. The dinner at the ranch hadn’t been much better. Their family was . . . different. Night and day to my own.

Last night, after Eloise had fallen asleep curled into my side, I’d thought long and hard about my family. About Samantha. About those phone calls I’d been taking for years.

Was the reason I always answered because she was the only one to call? Because Sam was my only connection to anything that resembled family? Was that why I was so resistant to the Edens? Some lingering resentment for my own that I projected onto her family?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

They still didn’t support her like she deserved. They still wanted to change her.

“Eloise said you guys are taking off for a wedding soon,” Knox said. “Italy?”

I nodded. “The Amalfi Coast.”

The trip would take twenty-two hours with the various stops and time changes. We’d be leaving early Thursday morning to arrive in Naples midday Friday.

“She’s excited,” Knox said.

“Me too,” I lied.

The wedding would likely be a disaster. And though I was looking forward to a weekend away with Eloise, of hotels and time alone together, this trip marked the end.

Her laugh rang through the lobby, drawing my attention. That smile of hers was brighter than any light bulb. Any star. She beamed, entirely in her element.

“She loves this hotel,” I told Knox.

“She does. Always has.”

“This is her dream.” Wading into the Eden family business wasn’t really my place, but the whole point of our marriage was to ensure her future here was secure. For that, for her dream, I’d dive into the deep end. “She wants it more than anything.”

“It’s hers. Maybe not officially. Not yet. But Mom and Dad know it’s hers.”

I glanced back to her, to that breathtaking smile. “She’s scared they’ll take it from her.”

“They won’t.”

“You’re sure?” I asked Knox.

He gave me an apologetic smile, like the fact that I even had to ask was a failure on their family’s part. “You don’t know us very well. We look out for each other. Maybe timing hasn’t been right in the past, but our parents know it’s her dream too. They want that dream to come true for her.”

“You’re sure?” Same question, met with the same apologetic smile.

“One hundred percent.” He believed it.

Wasn’t this all I needed to hear? Knox’s assurance meant this marriage hadn’t fucked up Eloise’s reputation. Her family still saw her as responsible. Now I could walk away.

Except something was happening here. Something I couldn’t quite grasp. It was like my shoes were getting heavier. Like there were roots growing beneath my feet.

And they were pulling me toward the woman at the hotel’s reception desk.

The idea of being tied to someone again made my stomach churn. But as my gaze drifted to Eloise again, to that smile, the roiling slowed. It didn’t stop, but it calmed.

Knox followed my gaze, staring at his sister. “This hotel is the heart of Quincy. And Eloise is the heart of this hotel. Don’t break it.”

“I won’t.”

A fool’s promise. But I made it anyway. Hurting Eloise wasn’t an option.

If she wanted me to walk away, if she wanted her own freedom, I’d go.

But if she wanted me to stay . . .

It had happened last night, when I’d stood on the porch of the A-frame, watching my wife stand beneath the trees wearing only a towel, letting the rain soak her face.

Eloise was my wife.

There wasn’t a damn thing fake about this marriage. Not anymore.

So we’d get through this wedding in Italy. Then we’d talk. Once she saw the world where I’d come from, she could decide.

If she still wanted to end it, I’d walk away.

With the final guest checked in, Eloise waited for them to collect their luggage and make their way toward the elevators. Then she hopped off her stool and walked over, her feet practically floating over the hardwood floors.

She moved with grace. With lightness. Like she had invisible wings.

“Hi, angel.” I held out an arm, waiting until she slid into my side. Then I dropped a kiss to her hair.

“Hi.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked up, probably glad I was putting on a show for her brother. Or maybe, if I was lucky enough, she was just as glad to see me as I was to see her. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d see if you wanted to go to lunch since you didn’t pack one.”

“How did you know I didn’t pack a lunch?”

Because there hadn’t been a knife covered in peanut butter and jelly when I’d put my breakfast dishes in the dishwasher this morning. “Did you?”

“No.” She smiled. “I was either going to get something from Lyla’s or beg my favorite older brother to make me lunch.”