Page 21 of When Stars Fall

“Ellie and I will be staying.” Nikki jumps in before any other assumptions can be made.

The nurse nods. “I’ll get a cot wheeled in here.”

Wyatt sighs and stands. He grins at Haven. “I should probably get to my hotel. If you’re still here tomorrow, would you like me to stop by?”

An objection rises to the tip of my tongue, and I hold it in. I can’t deny either of them their time.

“Yes!” Haven says. “Even if I’m home, you can come over.” She turns her bright eyes and flushed face to me for approval.

Nikki intervenes before Haven gets carried away. “We’ll see what tomorrow brings, Haven.”

“Spoken like a true mother.” He stares at me, as though he’s memorizing me for later. “Can I have a quick chat with you in the hall before I take off?”

“Sure,” I say.

“Ellie.” There’s a hint of warning in Nikki’s voice.

“It’s fine.” There’s nothing Wyatt can say in the hall that’ll change my life. I have Haven and a career I love. He’s ten years too late to wheedle himself back in.

I follow him out of the room with my hands in the pockets of my shorts. When we’re alone, I lift my eyebrows in silent question.

“Dinner tomorrow? If Haven is better?” Wyatt leans his shoulder against the wall in the hallway.

“Wyatt.” Impatience seeps into my voice. “I already told you I can’t.”

“Sounds like won’t.” He scans my face, seeking something I don’t want him to recognize. “Look,” Wyatt says. “You can either agree to eat dinner with me or I can track you down. I’ve done it before.”

I shake my head, more from embarrassment than annoyance. Charm seeps out of him. Part of me is dying to react to the memories he’s stirred to the surface. We did have some good moments.

He crashed my date after we finished filmingLove Letters from Spain. The memory of that night is vivid, visceral. Without a doubt, it’s the moment he swept me off my feet. He disappeared overseas to do another project. I thought we were only a set romance, so I agreed to a date with a friend of a massage client. Somehow, Wyatt found out where we were eating. He turned up, pulled up a third chair to our two-person table, and ordered a meal.

The guy I was with, I don’t even remember his name now, took the intrusion well. Wyatt was Wyatt, after all—enthralling when it suited him. He charmed the pants off my date, and he charmed me out of mine later. When our movie blew up, my date had a great story for parties—his dinner with Wyatt Burgess.

“Dinner,” I agree against my better judgment. Maybe I owe him this chance. “But it has to be at my house, and you have to cook.”

“You still don’t cook?” The corners of his mouth quirk up.

“I can cook,” I say. “But I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to cook like you.”

He rubs his hands together. “This is gonna be good, Ellie. I can sense it. The salmon?”

I close my eyes and almost moan. I snap them back open.Shit. Why does he keep bringing up these freaking fantastic memories? His salmon dish used to be like sex on a cedar plank.

His grin chips away at the ice around my heart. Crying in his arms earlier might have made the chipping a little easier. My senses flood with the memory of having him so close, and my eyelashes flutter.

“What time should I come over?”

“You cannot go grocery shopping.” I twist the ring on my middle finger. Give an inch, and he takes a mile. “Where’s your phone?”

He fishes it out of his pocket and unlocks it before passing it to me.

I click on his contacts, and I pause for a minute to question my sanity. This is for Haven. I plug my burner number into his phone. Agreeing to spend time together is wrong and right. My mind is in turmoil over the door I’m cracking open.

He’s triumphant when I return his phone.

“Text me what you need. I’ll buy it and come pick you up. Five o’clock?”

“Sounds perfect.”

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