Page 104

Several days had passed since the picnic, but Tina hadn’t responded. I had only reached out once, determined not to crawl.

If she’d stop being so stubborn, this would all be over.

It was my right to stop by the hotel and see how she was doing. I wasn’t crawling back.

So, I’d stopped working an hour earlier and headed to the Biscayne before she finished her workday.

Thanks to the regular updates Tina sent to Miranda, I knew there was an inspection scheduled this afternoon, and I timed my arrival to coincide with the end of it.

I planned to ask her to join me for dinner. We’d talk, and I’d clear the air. She might feel a little silly for reacting as she had, but I’d just brush it off.

This stupid misunderstanding would not bring everything to an abrupt halt between us. I wouldn’t let it.

I nosed the car into the narrow spot behind the Biscayne with more speed than necessary, causing the tires to squeal. I slammed the brakes and wrenched the keys in the ignition with enough force that I wouldn’t have been surprised if the key broke off.

I noticed a lifted black pickup. I frowned, trying to peg where I’d seen it before.

The back door to The Biscayne was locked—not unexpected. I fished the keys from my pocket, mentally rehearsing what to say.

Hey, Tina. Look, this is probably nothing, but if I hurt your feelings Sunday, I’m sorry.

That was easy enough. Right?

She’d smile, maybe slide her arms around my neck. I’d kiss her, and everything would be fine.

The door opened with a burst. I had to sidestep to avoid having it slam into me.

Then I saw her, and it felt like I’d taken a blow, anyway.

“Tina.”

Seeing her had the same impact as always, a punch to my chest making my breath come harder, which I didn’t mind at all. A smile was already spreading across my lips.

It died a sudden death as my eyes zoomed in on the hand on her shoulder.

A guy’s hand.

Tina stopped in her tracks. She fixed her gaze on me as I fixed mine on the man behind her.

Recognition clicked. This guy. The truck. And Tina, wearing a colorful sundress, standing on her porch as this dickhead stormed off. The unhappy set of her eyes as she watched him climb into the truck, then the way her lips curved as she looked at me.

Anger stirred as the guy eased close to Tina, the movement blatantly male, blatantly possessive.

“Who are you, and what are you doing on private property?” I demanded.

Tina shifted, putting her body in my line of vision. Her words were calm but pointed. “He’s here with me. Cecil is a colleague, and I wanted his input on the plans for the Biscayne.”

My eyes flew to hers, but there was no answer to her sharp tone. Her expression was coolly polite.

“Did you want to come in and look around, sir?”

Thatsirpricked me like needles, and I almost snapped the hold I had on my temper. Almost. I managed to throttle down and give a polite smile. “No.”

“Then if you’d let me pass…?” Tina returned my smile, but there was an edge, a sharpness to the curve of her lips I hadn’t seen before.

What thefuck? Had Zoey been right?

I met Tina’s gaze with sobering clarity, and the answer was likely yes. My half-sister more than likely was right because that glitter in Tina’s dark blue eyes held both anger and hurt. And I was the one responsible for those emotions.