Page 83 of The Love Destroyers

I don’t particularly feel like his sister-in-law, and friend isn’t quite the right word given that I watched him stroke himself as the shower pattered hot water all over his body.

My mouth goes dry, and a needy feeling flares through me—interrupted when a man hustles in with a bow-legged walk and whisper-hisses to the nurse at the check-in desk before leaning awkwardly against the wall. Definitely some anal play gone wrong. Another woman is brought in on a stretcher, still wearing her bicycle helmet.

This is why people become ambulance chasers. I could spend a few hours in this emergency room and walk away with thirty clients.

After fifteen minutes, Sophie comes back. There’s a troubled look on her face, and I instantly start rummaging through my purse to pull out my emergency chocolate bar.

“Here,” I say, handing it to her. “You look like you could use this.”

A smile brightens her face for half a second before sliding away, but she reaches for the bar. “Do you always keep one in there?”

“Always. You never know when you’re going to lose a case or need to swear at someone but can’t.”

“Thank you. I do something similar at work. You know, you’re kind too.”

“Please don’t repeat that to anyone.” I tell her with a smile. “So…what did your fiancé do?”

She sighs and unwraps the chocolate. “Hedidn’t do anything. His brother saw my wrist guard and texted him about it. As if it were any ofhisbusiness. They don’t get along, and he’ll find any excuse to aggravate Jonah.”

“You didn’t tell your fiancé you got hurt?”

She glances away, running her fingers over the wrist guard. “I don’t like for people to worry about me. Jonah has a lot on his plate. He needs to take all these trips for work, and I didn’t want him to feel like he had to cut this one short for me.”

“Would he have?” I ask pointedly, unable to help myself. This isn’t my old cynicism about relationships coming into play. I’ve seen this sort of scenario play itself out time and time again—often enough to sense it.

This guy isn’t good for her.

She gives me a half smile. “I guess I’d have to ask him to find out. I…caused a lot of trouble when I was younger, andI’ve been trying to make up for it ever since. Sometimes it feels impossible.”

Something clutches in my chest.

I think of Seamus and the past he’s referred to…

Is that how he feels? Is he trying to make up for what he did by helping me?

I don’t like the thought of either of them spending life as some kind of Sisyphus-ian struggle—a never ending dance of trying to make up for the past and forget it.

“Maybe you should forgive yourself for whatever it is.”

She gives me a soft smile. “I’m trying.” Then she shoves down the rest of the chocolate as if she needs the immediate infusion of sugar dosed with caffeine. “Thank you for that. Chocolate might not solve any problems, but it feels like it does.” Her gaze finds the front desk. “I’m going to leave them with all of our information for the bill, but I need to go. The whole tasting room has to be sanitized after the incident with the skunk. But stop by the brewery any time. Drinks on me.”

“Because your staff nearly killed my boyfriend?” I ask, with a hint of humor.

Her eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t realize. You said he was your client.”

Shock zips through me as I realize how badly I just misspoke.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say quickly, baffled by myself. If I was going to call him anything, why on Earth would I call him that? Brother-in-law, client, maybe even friend, I could get, butboyfriend? “Slip of the tongue.”

She smiles at me again as she gets up. “Sometimes a slip of the tongue is all it takes. Take care of yourself, Emma. And him.”

After she leaves, I call Buchanan Brewery and demand to speak to the manager, making a real nuisance of myself. I learned from the best, after all.

A tired-sounding man finally answers, and I inform him that Sophie deserves a commendation for her handling of the situation and we will only withhold suit if she isn’t fired. I also suggested he should seriously think about giving her a raise.

I don’t know if she’s good at her job, but I do recognize a person who’s in need of a lucky break from the universe. It feels good to be the person who tries to deliver it.

I can feel some of the rage I’ve been carrying leach away.

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