Page 8 of Taking What's Ours

Stepping through the door, I take in the room. It indeed has two beds. I cross to the window. “You’ve got a nice view.”

“Yeah. I lucked out. I think the girl at the front desk liked me. I’m sure my brother had nothing to do with it.”

“Do you think I should speak to him?”

“Absolutely not. He’ll talk you into going with him, and that’s the last thing you should do.”

“I suppose you’re right. We disappeared from the reception; perhaps he’ll put two and two together and come up here, pounding on the door.”

Dylan shrugs out of his suit jacket and hangs it on the back of a chair. “He won’t. Not after what I did to him. His ego won’t let him.”

“You sound so sure.”

“I guess I am.”

“Why?”

“He’s my brother. I know him.” His gaze locks with mine as he loosens his tie and pulls it off.

“But you haven’t seen each other in years.”

“That’s true, but he’s the same guy he always was. Me confronting him tonight? That threw him. He won’t be back for more. He’s probably drinking heavily. Then he’ll make excuses, lie and say you don’t feel well and went up to the suite. He’ll say he’s going up to the room to take care of you. Then he’ll—”

“He’ll what?”

“Never mind.”

“Tell me.”

“He’ll probably put a move on one of your bridesmaids.”

That hits where it hurts, and I turn away and stare out the window. I feel his presence come up behind me, and his hands land on my arms.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You really hate him, don’t you?”

“To tell the truth, since I’ve been away, I’ve barely given him a thought. At least until my mother called to tell me I needed to come home for his wedding.” He squeezes my arms, then walks away.

I turn. “Why did you come if you can’t stand him?”

“It meant something to my mother.” He’s busy digging the items out of his pocket and setting them on the dresser. His phone, wallet, a set of keys.

“I see. So, you’re a good son who doesn’t want to disappoint his mother.”

“I’ve disappointed her plenty.” He shrugs, then turns and sweeps his gaze over me. “You got something to sleep in or do you need to borrow a t-shirt?”

I drop my tote bag. There is no other change of clothes in it, just some makeup and hair products. “My suitcase is in the suite.”

“Do you have the key card?”

“Yes, but what if Elliott’s there?”

“You want me to get it?”

“No.”

He lifts his chin. “I’ll go with you, then.”

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