Page 48 of Finding Denver

“No,” I say. “It’s dangerous. The Capellis probably know what I did.” An excuse. A pathetic one.

“Denver, Finn McEwan’s men are pretty much lined up around the block.”

I meet his eye. “Are they?”

“Yep. And luckily, I know one of them, so I know they’re here to protect you and nothing sinister.” He squeezes my hand. “We can go for a walk. They’ll watch out for us.”

Finn McEwan is protecting me. Likely as a thank you for saving his life, or Colt’s, but it’s still good of him. I think of his expression at the restaurant, and how he’d called me by my mom’s name. He knew her, and I wonder how close they were. He probably knew my dad, too.

“I want to stay inside.”

Lewis stares at my hand, running his thumb across my knuckles. “When I do what I’m about to do, remember how good a cook I am, how much I make you laugh, and the fact I bring you chocolate without you having to ask.”

I frown. “What do you—” He scoops me up, and I squeal. “Lewis, put me down!” He marches into the bedroom and kicks open the bathroom door. He switches the shower onto the coldest setting, and my eyes almost bulge out of my head. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

He steps under the shower with me in his arms. I scream and writhe as the icy water beats down on us, soaking my pajamas and his clothes.

“Lewis!”

“This stops,” he says, water spilling over our heads. “You’ve moped enough. This isn’t who you are.”

“I don’t know who I am!” I shout, shoving him until he puts me on my feet.

He grips my shoulders before I can dart away. “Yes, you do. You’re Denver fucking Luxe.”

“Am I?” The water runs through my hair, and I try to wrestle myself from his grip, but he’s too strong. “I’m not Deluxe. I’m not a DeLuca. I’m Ranger’s wife and that’s it.”

“Ranger is a shit! It doesn’t matter if you’re Deluxe, a Luxe, a DeLuca, or whatever else! You’re Denver. You’re always fucking Denver. And the Denver I know doesn’t sit around crying and moping because things changed.”

Anger heats my skin, even against the bitter water. “Things didn’t just change. I lost my chance to avenge Ethan.”

“Listen to yourself!” he cries, switching off the shower. “Avenge Ethan? I didn’t even know the guy, but from what you’ve told me, revenge would be the last thing on his mind! He loved you. He wanted you to get out. So why the hell would you burrow yourself deeper to avenge a man who wanted better for you?” I stare at him, tears burning my eyes and mingling with the water. He squeezes my shoulders again. “Worse things have been put aside in the interest of peace.”

“Wilder doesn’t deserve peace.”

“But you do.” He cups my face. My friend. My best friend. The anchor keeping me from floating further out to sea than I already have. “Why are you dying for someone who died long ago?”

My throat is too tight, and the ache in my heart seems to double. “Ranger doesn’t want me to be who I am, but I can’t be who he wants me to be.”

“Who the fuck cares what he thinks?” he asks. “What do you want? What does your happiness look like?”

“I—” I heave in a breath and say the only thing I can think of. “I don’t know.”

“Is it sitting in this room? Not showering? Barely eating?” I shake my head. “Is it waiting for Ranger to come and take you so you can pretend you didn’t have a choice?” I open my mouth to argue the point, but he knows me too well. A part of me was waiting for that to happen. If Ranger dragged me home, I could pretend that I had no say. I shake my head. “You’re happiest when you’re working, Denver. So wash your hair. Brush your fucking teeth. And turn your phone on.”

I run my tongue across my teeth. “You’re right.”

“Nine out of ten dentists would agree your breath stinks.”

I punch his arm. “Asshole.”

“Shower. Get your head straight. Then get to work.”

An hour later, I’m clean, my hair is blow-dried, I’m wearing makeup, and I’m picking an outfit. I turn on my new phone, and notifications buzz through, mostly from Ranger. I ignore them and focus on the ones from Samuel. Most are asking about the land the McEwans have. Some are asking how I am.

But there are a few missed calls from a number I don’t have saved. No texts, but a voicemail. I tap to listen, putting the phone on speaker as I slip on my skirt.

“Denver, this is Finn McEwan.” I freeze in place, and Lewis almost falls into the bedroom to listen. “I’ve tried to call to arrange a meeting with you but haven’t been able to get through. I’ll be at Sleek restaurant on Wednesday at lunch.” I look at my watch. Today. In ten minutes. Fuck. Shit. “It’s extremely important we meet. I’m sure you’venoticed my men are close by, so they will accompany you.”