Page 46 of Three Hearts Hideaway

Shit. Roman was probably right. What could they do for her right now, anyway? Logan started pacing the room, needing to release the negative energy building inside him. Roman watched him, probably trying to gauge how upset he was.

Logan stopped directly in front of him. “She said this is the last night she gets to be with us.”

“Well, it is.”

He let out a sigh heavy with frustration. “Obviously. But her tone suggested she was more than stating a fact. Almost like she didn’t think she’d be coming back.”

“Why wouldn’t she come back?”

“I don’t know, Roman! You burst through the door playing the hero before I asked her.”

Roman placed a calming hand on Logan’s shoulder. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“She has a life in Ottawa. We were just a pit stop. You heard the recording. We’re two guys to use and abuse.” As he said the words, he knew they weren’t true. And he regretted them immediately.

Roman raised his eyebrows. “Logan, don’t start spiraling because of one off-hand comment. You do this to the people you care about. A hard situation can put you on the defense.”

He glared at Roman. Damn him for knowing him so well.

“You know I’m right.”

“Of course you are.” Logan grimaced. “I just don’t care to admit it.”

“In the morning, we’ll take her to the airport and make a plan—the three of us.”

He gave Roman a brusque nod. Feeling fucking helpless was the worst. There was nothing he could do about Ava’s boss. Nothing he could do to keep her from leaving. Nothing he could say to assuage her fears.

She had a life before Little Greenfield. The past eight days had existed inside a bubble. It wasn’t reality. Well, it wasn’t Ava’s reality. Once she was home, would she forget about them? Would she abandon him? And Roman? Shit. He kicked the side of the couch and felt Roman flinch beside him.

Logan would make sure she returned. If he had to get on his bike, drive the five hours again, and carry her back kicking and screaming, he would.

She was their fucking girl.

Chapter Sixteen

AVA

Sitting in her car outside her office, Ava went over the plan they’d made before she left.

Plans were good.

She’d go into work, talk with her boss, and meet any fallout from Sebastian’s vicious message head-on. Then she would confront him one last time. She had a few things at his place from when she would stay over. Nothing she’d regret losing, but it was the principle of the matter. He was the asshole, not her, so she should get her stuff back. He didn’t deserve one reminder of their time together. Not a toothbrush, not a comb, not one bobby pin. Once that was done, she would call Roman and Logan and figure out what the next step in her life was. Her heart was leading her more and more to Little Greenfield.

The guys were uneasy about her confronting Sebastian without them. They feared retribution from him directed toward Ava for taking off, but she assured them she could handle it. This was something she needed to do on her own. Resist himonce and for all. Make it absolutely clear that he was no longer allowed to be in her life.

At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

One problem at a time.

She walked into her building, traveled to the tenth floor, and went straight down the long hallway to her boss’ office. No point in putting off the inevitable. People were definitely staring at her. She would bet her left arm their whispering was about her.

Ava knocked on the mahogany door and waited for the usualenterto sound from behind it. When she heard her boss’ voice, she opened the door and stepped inside.

Mr. Carter, who was not only her boss but the company’s vice president, sat behind a sleek glass desk, a view of the Ottawa River flanked by trees turning red and gold behind him. Everything in the room was clean and meticulously organized, not a pen out of place. So the large manila folder with multi-coloured tabs sticking out haphazardly on his desk instantly drew her attention. Sign number one that something wasn’t right. Shit. But maybe she was reading into things.

“Ms. Anderson, thank you for coming in on such short notice.” He gestured to the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “Please have a seat.”

Ms. Anderson. Not Ava. Sign number two. A cavernous pit opened in her stomach.

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