“You been outside?”
“Nope, ‘cept for just now when I was on that bench and you guys rode up. Was getting some air.” I close the door and start down the hall. But the sound of it opening again turns my head. Sofia is leaning out of her room, watching me. “What?”
She mutters, “Nothing,” holding my eyes two hot seconds before disappearing inside.
Standing here I listen as the lock falls into place.
CHAPTER 23
SOFIA
“What room is Luke Martinez in?”
Sherry pauses on the other end of the call. “I’m sorry…I know you came in together, but I’m not allowed to give out room numbers.”
“Is it 27?”
“We leave that up to the guests, if they want people to know where they are.”
I pick at my comforter and ask, “So you won’t tell me if I guess it right?”
“No.”
“Is it 22?
A pause and then, “I’m sorry, I wish I could!”
“It’s okay,” I smile, because she just told me and doesn’t even know it.
“Hotel policies, Ms. Cocker, I’m so sorry.”
“I understand, Sherry, you’re doing a great job. My buddy Tyler was saying so, too.”
She gets happy, leaving behind the guilt for not being able to help me. “Really? How nice of him. He’s a very handsome man, I was sad he had a wedding ring on.”
My face squishes up, because I’ve never heard Tyler called good looking after he hit puberty and left his cute-kid-face far behind. “They’re pretty happy, too, I’m afraid. Oh well, you’ll find your man.”
“I hope so,” she wistfully replies.
“Have to go. See you soon I’m sure.”
“Bye, Ms. Cocker.”
I gently drop the hotel phone back in its cradle, staring into the possibilities. I know I should leave this alone, and that’s why I’m not in the elevator right now. I’ve explored a few shops not far from the hotel, but my eyes kept finding the second floor, wondering what Luke was doing up there. Tyler will probably come get us for dinner, but what the hell am I supposed to do with all this time if there’s no mission to execute?
I want to spend time with Luke.
As soon as I saw him standing there waiting for Tyler in the parking lot, I knew it was him I’ve been missing, haven’t allowed myself to think about him, did everything possible to distract myself around the plantation.
He’s angry at me.
Feels betrayed by Atlas.
I have to make this right.
Marching to the elevator like he is now my mission, I jab the button and impatiently wait to hit the top floor. At Room 22 I bang on the door. Heavy footsteps clomp toward me and Luke appears, wearing no shirt, belt off, first button undone on his tight-fitting jeans like he’d gotten really comfortable.
My mind goes blank. “Uh…”
He reacts, runs a hand through his shiny, black hair hanging down his naked back. His chest is peaks and valleys of burnished copper muscle. “Soph, what do you want?”
Parting my lips I try hard to remember why I thought it was a good idea to come up here. “I…uh…”
We don’t move for what feels like minutes, but it’s probably three seconds, tops.
“Come in, Soph,” he grumbles, holding the door open wider.
I’ve never been this awkward around him, so I clasp my hands behind my back and walk inside, scanning the pretty room as I struggle to speak. Clearing my throat, I offer a lame, “It’s nice in here.” He shuts the door and crosses his arms, the stance not impatient but not welcoming either. “Bed okay?”
“I sleep fine.” He takes a couple steps in as I lift a notepad from his nightstand. “Don’t touch that.”
“What is it? You writing a story or something?”
“Just some thoughts I have,” he shrugs. “Non fiction. Put it down.”
“Put this down?” I smile, teasing him, “You don’t want me to open this?”
He uncrosses his arms and points at me. “Soph, put it the fuck down.”
My fingertips shuffle just the edges of the closed pages, torturing him with, will I or won’t I?
“Gosh, you’re so nervous. What’s in this notebook, I wonder?”
He starts for me, coming around the bed, so I jump on it to escape him. “Sofia!”
“What?” I hold it high and dodge left and right as he circles the bed. His gaze drops, repeatedly flickering around my body. With all the jumping around, I’m jiggling like crazy, and the way his expression changes, he’s in a war with his baser instincts.
I should stop.
But when have I ever done anything I should?
So I bend over, cleavage at its deepest, and hold the journal out. “You want this?”
Double entendre intended.
Like a predator about to pounce, Luke hunches over, dark eyes sparkling with a warning. I’m sure I’ve got the same look in mine as a naughty smile spreads on my lips.
“Come and get it,” I whisper.
He lunges for me.
I whip the notebook out of reach, leap off the bed.
He lands on fluffy blankets and pillows, grasping at zip, zero, nada. Flipping around he sees me standing near the window, opening the notebook and he shouts, “NO!”
It’s so loud it startles me, and that gives him the edge he needs. Tackling me, Luke grabs the book, lifts me over his shoulder, flings the notebook far away as he throws me on the bed, leaping on top, caging me. Our chests are heaving as we stare at each other, his hair brushing the sides of my face, mine fanned out. I lick my lips. He keeps staring at them, like he’s trying not to kiss me but desperately wants to. Voice gravelly, he asks, “What do you want from me, Sofia?”
My mind is filled with images of our Dads punching each other, Mom furious and reminding me why we have rules.
“I…”
He punches the bed, and repeats, more desperately, “What do you want?!”
I almost say, you. But I can’t make the same mistake twice and jeopardize our family. Instead I say what is so true, it hurts. “I want to go back in time.”
He frowns. “To before you and
