Page 12

Chapter Twelve

JACK

T he room was hot and stuffy. The overhead fan did nothing more than add an additional buzz to a room that was already buzzing with insect life. Norman had pressed in earplugs and put on a sleep mask, and before I could even close my eyes he was mumbling in his sleep about snakes.

I pulled on my shorts, shirt and shoes and headed out to the hotel bar. A vodka on the rocks was the easiest sleep tonic I could come up with given the circumstances. There were a few people at small tables inside the dark, dank barroom. Vintage Bad Company was blasting out of a jukebox, and cue balls clacked from the next room. I hadn’t seen her sitting at the bar until I passed the dimly lit area. She was talking with the young bartender in fluent Spanish. A white smile nearly split the man’s face in two as he laughed at something she said. Her tanned shoulders were highlighted by a white tank top, and she’d pulled on a pair of khaki shorts. She had an incredible pair of legs. Since there were only a few people at the bar counter, it would have been strange and blatantly obvious if I sat several barstools away.

Ava and the bartender were still laughing at something she said when I sat on the stool. She glanced over. “Well, well, look who came in to be social.”

“Just came in for a vodka, hoping it will knock me out.” I held up a finger to the bartender. He looked disappointed that someone else had pulled the beautiful woman’s attention away from him. “Vodka on the rocks please.”

“How is Norm?”

“Sleeping like a baby with his earplugs and one of those satiny eye covers. Half expected him to pull a teddy bear out of his backpack.”

Ava chuckled. “You’ve got to give him credit for doing his thing and not caring what anyone else thinks.”

“I guess we could all do with a little more of that.” I raked my hair back with my fingers. Suddenly I wished I’d at least glanced in the mirror before I walked out of the room. Not that I’d expected to run into Ava in the bar.

“So, I’ve dropped a confession about my insomnia. What about you? I know you’re not an insomniac because you slept like a baby through a mostly rough flight.”

“That took years of training on hundreds of long flights. Trust me, that flight was like floating on a sea of cream compared to some I’ve been on.”

The bartender handed me the drink. “It was rough enough to make you grab my hand.” I took a sip as she glared at me with that amazing green gaze.

“I’d been in a deep sleep. You know, that luxurious state of bliss that those of us without insomnia can manage any place and any time. So, you see, it didn’t matter whose hand it was, I instinctively grabbed for it because it felt like I was falling in my dream.”

I took another sip of vodka. It went down smoothly, and I was considering a second. “Then I won’t flatter myself into thinking that you grabbed my hand and used my shoulder as a pillow because you felt comfortable enough with me to take advantage.”

She laughed. “Take advantage of what?”

“My good nature, and obviously I exude that protective, strong kind of character that made you think I could somehow keep you from falling out of the sky.”

“First of all, you and I have different definitions of what ‘good nature’ is, and as I said, I could have just as easily grabbed Hank’s hand. You just happened to be on my right side.”

“And Hank’s was probably still sticky from the pastry you shared with him.” I put up a finger for one more vodka and pointed to Ava’s empty wineglass, too.

“No, I’m good,” she told the smitten bartender. He flashed her a smile before turning around to fill my glass.

“Come on, one more glass with your ole work chum.”

“I’ll wake with a headache, and since it seems all of the actual directing and management for this group will fall to me?—”

The bartender placed the next drink in front of me. “This was your project. I’m just along as a second staff member.”

She huffed and shook her head. “It’s probably for the best. I like to be in charge.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Ava shook her head again. “I don’t know what your buddy, Zach, said—by the way, I’m not the least bit surprised that the two of you are friends—everything Zach has told you comes from his very biased view of me.”

I stared at her. She had the lightest spray of freckles across her nose. “You broke his heart. That was what I heard between the lines as he spoke about you, and I know Zach can be arrogant and pig-headed.”

“Hence my theory that the two of you would make splendid friends. Peas of the same arrogant man-pod, I’d say.”

“Zach and I have little in common. We worked together at a community college for five years, and we exchange the occasional text.” I took a drink of vodka. “Are you seeing anyone now?” I had no idea why I asked it. I blamed the liquor going straight to my jet-lagged head. And now there was no way to take it back without that damn time travel machine.

“Not sure if that’s your business.”

I nodded. “Agreed. That was the booze talking.”

“Rico, could I get a glass of sparkling water with a wedge of lime?” she asked. Rico practically jumped into the air to serve her. And he did it all with a big smile.

“I’m not seeing anyone, and now, I get to ask you one. You talked about your little girl, but how did your wife feel about you traveling far from home for two weeks?”

“My wife? Gwen and I are divorced.”

Rico returned with the sparkling water and an expression that bordered on adoration.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. If not for Holly, that divorce would have been the best decision I’ve made in a long time. Part-time dad is probably better than no dad at all, but I’m not kidding myself. I won’t be as big a part of her life as I would have been if I’d stayed with Gwen.”

“I wish I could tell you that wasn’t true, but my dad traveled for work. After my mom died, he left us with our grandmother. Eventually, he even got married, but our stepmother, Helen, didn’t have the first clue how to be a mother to five young girls. We saw Dad whenever he came back from a trip, but I have to say, we’re almost strangers now. We hardly see or talk to him.”

“Way to boost a guy’s mood,” I said. If not for the rafting adventure and hike awaiting us early in the morning, I would have considered a third drink.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Ava looked truly contrite as she reached over and grabbed my hand. We both stared down at our clasped hands. She let go abruptly, like she’d done on the plane.

“Let me guess—you would have grabbed anyone’s hand but mine just happened to be sitting right there?”

Her cheeks darkened slightly. “No, that one was on purpose. I saw your face and heard your tone, and there was this whole pity party thing happening.”

I stood up. “Well, always a delight talking to you, Lo.”

She grabbed my arm, and this time she left her hand there. “I’m teasing.”

I turned back to look at her. She still held my arm.

“My dad, our dad, he didn’t try—you know? After my mom died—honestly—I think it was painful to see the five of us. He was suddenly left with five young girls. Without Nonna, it’s hard to know what would have happened to all of us. But it’s different with you and Holly. I saw you that day—the day you had to tell her you couldn’t take her on your special weekend. You were devastated. You’re different than my dad. I love him, but he—he just didn’t know how to do the father thing without my mom at his side.”

Our gazes stuck together for a few, long seconds. I smiled weakly. Her words had made me feel better. “See you in the morning, Lo.”

“Yep. Sweet dreams … hopefully.” Her smile sent me off. I was feeling just heavy-limbed enough from the vodka that I was sure I’d be out as soon as I hit the pillow.