“Why don’t you get that, angel?” I drawled. “Maybe you should bring him up yourself, share your excitement.”
“Yes!” She ran her hand over my arm as she hurried from the room, a fleeting touch that reverberated through me.
I straightened, focusing on Ash. “You’re flirting with my wife.”
He stiffened abruptly, the smile leaving his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just want Miss Tramell to feel comfortable.”
“I’ll worry about her. You worry about me.” I didn’t doubt that he questioned the arrangement we’d consulted him to implement. Everyone who saw it would. What red-blooded man in his right mind would have a wife like Eva, yet sleep not just in a different bed but a different room altogether?
The knife dug in a little deeper and twisted.
His dark eyes went flat and hard. “Of course, Mr. Cross.”
“Now, let’s see what you’ve sketched so far.”
—
“WHAT do you think?” Eva asked, between bites of pepperoni and basil pizza. She leaned over the island, with one leg kicked up behind her, having chosen to stand on the opposite side from where Cary and I sat.
I debated my reply.
“I mean the idea of a master suite with two mirroring sides is lovely,” she went on, wiping at her mouth with a paper napkin, “but if we go the easy route, it’ll be faster. Plus we could close up the wall again one day, if we want to use the room for something else.”
“Like a nursery,” Cary said, shaking crushed red pepper onto his slice.
My appetite died and I dropped the slice I’d been eating onto my paper plate. Lately, eating pizza at home hadn’t been working out for me.
“Or a guest room,” Eva corrected. “I liked what you talked to Blaire about for your apartment.”
Cary shot her a look. “Quick dodge.”
“Hey, you may have babies on your mind, but the rest of us have other things to check off our lists first.”
She was saying exactly what I wanted her to say, but . . .
Did Eva have the same fears I did? Maybe she’d taken me as a husband because she couldn’t help herself, but drew the line at taking me as a father to her children.
I carried my plate to the trash and tossed it in. “I have some calls to make. Stay,” I said to Cary. “Spend time with Eva.”
He gave me a nod. “Thanks.”
Leaving the kitchen, I crossed the living room.
“So,” Cary began, before I stepped out of earshot, “hot-designer-dude’s got a thing for your man, baby girl.”
“He does not!” Eva laughed. “You’re crazy.”
“No argument there, but that Ash guy barely glanced at you all night and kept his eyes glued on Cross.”
I snorted. Ash had gotten the message, which reaffirmed my belief in his intelligence. Cary was free to read that however he liked.
“Well, if you’re right,” she said, “I have to admire his taste.”
I headed down the hallway and entered my home office, my gaze landing on the collage of Eva’s photos on the wall.
She was the one thing I couldn’t tuck neatly away in my mind. She was always at the forefront, driving everything I did.
Settling down at my desk, I got to work, hoping to catch up on what I could so that the rest of the week wouldn’t be thrown completely off. It took me a bit to get my head in the game, but once I did, I felt relief. It was a reprieve to focus on problems with concrete solutions.