Page 55 of Against All Odds

“He’s being stubborn,” Natasha agreed. “He doesn’t want to believe that Alexa would do something like this or that she even can.”

I couldn’t believe the man was so clueless, but I also understood his desire not to topple the apple cart, as the saying went, because his daughter was involved.

“Alexa isverygood at manipulating people, and she has a lot of experience making Heath dance to her tune,” Natasha reminded me.

“How on earth did he manage to get her to agree to a divorce?” Hillary wondered.

“They fought all the time, and finally, it came to a place where Heath couldn’t stay with her,” Natasha informed us. “I don’t think he knows or rather understands how determined Alexa is to get him back.”

“He doesn’t want her.” I flung myarms up in exasperation. “Even if he dumps my ass, he’s not getting back with her. It’s clear as day.”

“To you and me,” Natasha agreed sardonically. “Not to Alexa.”

“I don’t know what to do and how to….” I took a deep breath and stopped speaking. They were here for a drink and chit-chat with me. I wasn’t going to drag them down with shit. “Anyway, moving to happier subjects. Hillary, how was the anniversary dinner?”

That effectively changed the topic, and Hillary launched into how her husband had surprised her with a dinner at Cache Cache, a high-end French restaurant, and a tennis bracelet that was shimmering on her wrist.

By the time Heath showed up at my place late that night, I felt like I’d been wrung out. Hillary and Natasha had helped me forget my problems for a little while with their banter and stories. Still, ultimately, yet another slow evening with hardly any locals at the Wildflower played in the back of my mind like a bad song on repeat.

Alexa wasn’t going to stop. And no matter how much I told myself I could rise above it, I didn’t know how much more I could take—not with Heath brushing it off every time I tried to bring it up.

When I opened the door, Heath greeted me with a smile, but it felt...forced—like he was trying to shake off whatever stresses he’d been carrying all day. I wondered if he was struggling as I was with the backlash of us spending time together—because even though we were notflauntingit—he came by the Wildflower, and peopleprobably saw his Jeep parked in my driveway and my Leaf at his.

“Hey.” I stepped aside to let him in.

“Hey.” He leaned in to kiss my cheek before walking past me into the cozy chaos of my living room.

He glanced around, taking in the books piled on the coffee table, the candles I’d lit earlier in an attempt to create some kind of peace, and the glass of wine I’d abandoned on the kitchen counter.

“Long day?” he asked, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of a dining chair.

“You could say that.” I walked up to the kitchen counter and refilled my wine glass.

We stood there for a moment, neither of us saying anything, the air between us heavy with unspoken tension. I didn’t quite know what to do about it. I didn’t have a lot of experience with relationships. Jack had been my firstrealboyfriend—and with him, I did whatever he wanted, so the tension was minimal. Being a doormat was an excellent way to avoid conflict.

“You want a drink?” I finally asked, breaking the silence.

He shook his head. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

I grabbed my wine glass, took a slow sip, and walked to the couch. He settled next to me. With his rolled-up sleeves and easy confidence, he looked good. It made me want to crawl into his arms and forget everything else.

I curled my legs underneath me. “How was your day?”

“Busy.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Dealt with a couple of issues at the resort. Nothing too exciting.”

I swirled the wine in my glass. “Hmm.”

He looked at me then, really looked at me, his brow furrowing. “You okay, babe?”

I hesitated, my grip tightening on the glass. “I think that’s my question. You seem…tense.”

“Bambi, that’s because I feelyourtension, which is…. Come here.” He opened his arms, and I set the wine down and snuggled into him.

Oh, but it felt good to be held like this. With Jack, I had to listen to him complain about his day and make him feel better. But this man wanted to be there for me, and it was intoxicating.

“Talk to me, darlin’.”

I wanted to. God, I wanted to unload everything—how scared I was about the business, how angry I was at Alexa, how frustrated I was with him for not seeing how much damage she was doing. But I couldn’t. She was the mother of his child, and I had to be respectful.

---