Page 167 of Spicy Ever After

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I squeeze her hand.

We’re quiet as we follow the path to the pool on our way to the big house. Heading back toward other people is jarring.

And it feels wrong to know I’m leaving her to face them alone.

“Should I crash the breakfast?” I ask when we reach the back porch.

Hattie’s smiling, but it’s subdued. She shakes her head. “Margaret and Merrick won’t mind, but my parents and Grandma Eloise would crap themselves.”

I chuckle and pull her into my arms. “I love how funny you are.” I kiss her once and cup her cheek. “I love you, Hattie.”

Saying it gives me a rush of rightness. For a moment, it blunts the ache of leaving her.

Her breath quickens. “I love you, too.”

Yeah, I want to stay with her today. All day. I want to walk in with her and dare her family to bat an eye at us. I want to spend the day doing whatever she wants to do. I want to sleep beside her tonight.

Be inside her again tonight.

“Will you call me later?” I ask, bargaining for what I can get.

Hattie grins. “Of course.”

“And I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She nods. “I’ll bring poboys and an overnight bag.”

I laugh, suddenly feeling better. “Okay. I like the sound of that.”

She rises up on her toes and kisses me. “Until tomorrow.”

I watch her climb the steps of the grand house and disappear inside. I’m already anxious to talk to her later.

But she doesn’t call.

I wake up Monday morning to four texts she sent at 1:02 a.m.

Hattie: I CAN’T COME OVER.

I HAVE TO DO SOMETHING.

IT MIGHT TAKE A WHILE.

I’M SORRY.

And I don’t see Hattie for thirty-two days.

Chapter Twenty-Two

HATTIE

“Hattie, why don’t you tell the group what you’re hoping to get out of Summit House?” Gwen asks. She isn’t exactly smiling, but her eyes are friendly.

At least she remembered that I prefer Hattie.

We met Wednesday when I toured. She greeted me as Harriet. I’d growled at her that my name was Hattie. I was beyond angry at the time. Hell, I’m still angry, but now that Mom and Dad aren’t here anymore, acting in anger seems kinda pointless.

They’re the ones I’m angry with.