it.
She’ll be mine.
Until death do us part.
Ana lying on the cold, hard floor flashes before my eyes.
No!
I rub my face.
Stop. Grey. Stop.
I kiss her hair, breathing in her life-affirming fragrance, and I’m calmer.
It must be about 9 a.m. I grab my phone from my nightstand to check the time. There’s a text from Elliot.
ELLIOT
Good morning, Asshole.
I’m sitting in your vast living room
waiting for you to get your lazy ass
out here. Stop what you’re doing. Now.
You dirty dog.
What the hell?
“What is it?” Ana asks, looking tousled and fuckable.
“Elliot’s here.”
“Outside?” Ana sounds bemused.
I ease her out of my embrace. “No. He’s here.”
She frowns.
“Yeah, I don’t understand it, either.” I get up, stalk into my closet, and drag on a pair of jeans.
Elliot is sprawled on my couch, staring at his phone. “Good morning, hotshot, about time!” he hollers. “Glad you dressed for the occasion.” He eyes my naked chest and feet with amused disdain.
“What in God’s name are you doing here, dude? It’s nine a.m.”
“Yep. Surprise! Get your ass in gear. I got the day planned.”
What? “I’m supposed to take Ana shopping.”
He scoffs, disgusted. “She’s a grown woman. She can do her own damn shopping.”
“But—”
“Dude. I’m saving you. Shopping with women is hell. Go. Put some clothes on, you pervert. And for fuck’s sake have a shower. I can smell the sex from here.”
“Fuck off,” I reply without heat.
He really is a douche sometimes.
“You’ll need hiking boots and sneakers,” he calls after me.
Both?
“How did you get in?” I ask as we head down to the garage in the elevator.
“Taylor.”
“Ah. That’s why we have no security following us.”
“Yep. I figured you were leaving with me, so you’d be fine. Your man Taylor was reluctant, but I persuaded him.”
I nod, pleased. Being continually dogged by our close protection team has been wearing. Ana and I have been holed up at Escala for what feels like forever. Sawyer and Reynolds will keep an eye on her today, though. That’s non-negotiable.
“He’s been very helpful,” Elliot says.
“Who?”
“Taylor.” And with that he hides his sly smile and stops talking.
What does he have planned?
Elliot is in an ebullient mood. It’s catching. We’re cruising in his pickup north along I-5. “Where exactly are we going?” I ask, over the godawful yacht-rock blasting through the cab.
“Surprise,” he shouts. “Relax. It’s going to be fine.”
It’s too late to tell him I’m not a fan of surprises, so I sit back and enjoy the cityscape as we head out of Seattle. We haven’t spent any time together since we went mountain biking near Portland. That was a most interesting night…the first night I slept with Ana. The first night I slept with anyone! And Elliot fucked Ana’s best friend—but then Elliot has fucked many of the women with whom he’s come into contact. It’s not surprising, really; he’s good company. Easygoing. Good-looking, I suppose. Women flock to him, I’ll give him that. He puts them at ease.
He’s always been able to charm our mother. He knows how to treat Grace. I used to envy the easy way he’d spin her around the kitchen floor or hug her or give her a passing peck on her cheek.
He makes it look easy.
As yet, he shows no signs of settling down.
And if he does, I hope to God it’s not with Kavanagh.
I send a quick text to Ana.
No idea what Elliot has in mind.
This is not how I planned to spend the day.
Enjoy your shopping experience with Caroline Acton.
Missing you. x
ANA
Missing you, too. Love you. Ax
Elliot leaves I-5 for the 532.
“Camano Island?” I ask.
He winks at me, which is annoying. I check my watch, then my phone.
“Dude! What gives? She’ll be fine without you, for fuck’s sake. Show some dignity. I packed some snacks. I know how disagreeable you get without food.”
“Snacks? Where?”
He opens the car caddy, revealing subs, chips, and Coke. Ah, all of life’s pleasures…if you’re Elliot.
“Nutritious,” I mutter dryly.
“It’s all good stuff, bro. Quit complaining. This is your bachelor party.”
I laugh, because chips and Coke is not my idea of a good time. Subs, on the other hand…I smirk at my little private joke and reach for a can of Coke.
About five miles into Camano Island, Elliot turns right. We drive through a farm gate into an open pasture, along a track, and up to a barn, where he pulls into a parking lot.
“We’re here.”
“Where is here?”
“Friend’s place. It’s not open to the public yet. But it will be soon. We’re guinea pigs.”
“What?”
“Well, I figured marriage is pretty much a high-wire activity. I