Page 6 of The Handler
Katherine squeezes me again before moving around the table. She kisses Sebastian on the cheek and tells him she loves him. “I’ll see you at fall break. Amy will be here. I’ll keep my cell phone on. And be careful on the drive back to school.”
She sounds like a mother despite never having given birth. Another experience I’ll never have, thanks to the stupid Brambilla family. At thirty-seven, the window of opportunity for having children is swiftly closing.
“I’ll be fine.” Sebastian stands and hugs Katherine. “Love you, too.”
I swallow down my thread of jealousy. Katherine has a family. Even Gabe’s sister, who couldn’t receive the bouquet because of her overprotective brothers, is blessed with family. I glance at Tyler. I have a handler.
The hotel staff swarms the tent as soon as Katherine and Gabe leave. Most of the guests are quickly following. I look at Sebastian and ask, “Ready to go?”
“Are you sure it’s okay if we stay with you?” his mom asks.
“Of course. It’s my pleasure to have you, and the rooms are ready.” I prepped the two rooms yesterday during a whirlwind of activity.
“Thank you for having us,” she says. She’s become much nicer over the years. Maybe she figured out Sebastian needed more than she could give him. Or maybe she’s happy someone else stepped up to fill her shoes. I’m too tired to figure it out. As soon as I hit my bed, I’m going to sleep for a day.
Tyler plucks my keys out of my hand. “I’m driving.”
“But—”
“You had wine at dinner. You’re swaying in your shoes from exhaustion, and it’s a thirty-minute drive to the Sunflower.”
I hate that he’s right. “What about your car? I assume you rented one.”
“We can pick it up tomorrow. Just need to grab my bags.” He tucks my hand in his elbow, and we race through the rain to my little white four-door sedan.
The trip home lasts a minute. I must have slept on the way. As soon as I get inside, I start the kettle out of habit, but I need the warm comfort of a cup of tea after a rainy, unexpectedly harried day. Thankfully, Sebastian and his mom quickly settle in their rooms, and my other guests seem content as well. No messages to deal with. No guests sitting in the great room. Clutching my half-empty cup, I drag myself up the first two stairs and pause. Tyler is right behind me. I gaze up to the top of the stairs and pray for this day to be a dream because it has officially become a nightmare. “I don’t have another room.”
Tyler joins me on the same tread, his hand on my lower back. “Lead the way, wife.”
The surge of energy that comes with the impulse to stab this infuriating man fuels the remainder of my journey. Too bad it doesn’t last long enough to kick him out and tell him to find another place to stay. Plus, I can’t send him back out into this weather. Lightning flashes, illuminating the dark room. Is it a sign that I’m making a big mistake?
“This is my side.” I point at the bed. “Bathroom’s through there. I’m first.” With my most conservative pair of flannel pajamas in hand, I duck into the small room with the tiny shower and try to figure out how my life became such a mess.
A knock on the door motivates me to finish brushing my teeth. I duck around Tyler as I exit, brushing against his hard body. I’m sure he notices my shiver. “All yours.”
When Tyler quickly reappears in nothing but gray sweatpants, I consider stealing his pillow to cover my eyes. His tanned abs are carved into a six-pack. The slight V of his Adonis belt peeks above his waistband. And based on the bulge at the top of his thighs, he’s got plenty to work with in the sex department. The man is too attractive, and my imagination is a traitorous slut.
“Why are you here?” My nasty tone is designed to kill any urges he—or really I—might be having.
He ducks, the slant of the roof making it impossible to stand upright as he slides into the other side ofmybed.
“Despite Enzo Senior’s death and the trial not moving forward, I don’t believe you’re out of danger. I tried to convince everyone to keep you in the program, but…” He shrugs one shoulder. “I’m not going to leave you unprotected.” His gaze locks onto me, and he tucks a tendril of my hair back. “You’re mine.”
The cool room is suddenly stifling. I shift away from him, right to the edge of the bed. “I’m not.”
He rolls back, hands under his head, staring at the ceiling. “My case. My responsibility.”
His clarification doesn’t make it any more palatable. I’m not anyone’s but mine. “What are you going to do? Stay here forever? Don’t you have a job to get back to?”
“I retired.”
My entire body tenses. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
“We’ll talk about the options in the morning.” He turns to the wall, punches the pillow a couple of times, and is softly snoring in moments. He’s so at home, it’s like he’s moved in—or will.
Suddenly, I’m wide awake.
FOUR
