Joy Avery - Soaring On Love

Roth’s words were gentle when he spoke. “Everyone is looking for you.”

She hugged her arms around her body. “I don’t want to be found. I can’t handle the looks and whispers right now.”

Being the voice of reason, he said, “People are worried about you, Tressa. They just want to know that you’re all right. You really should—”

“Roth, please. Spare me the lecture. I don’t have my car here. I need to go. Can you just get me away from here? Just drive. Please.” Her voice was low, but screamed of exhaustion.

Tressa’s sad, pleading eyes tugged at his heart. Who could blame her for wanting to avoid being poked and prodded like a lab rat by people’s stares of pity? Facing forward, he cranked the engine, popped the gearshift into Drive and pulled away.

Silence filled the car for the first few minutes. Roth avoided plying her with the usual pacifiers: it’s going to be okay, the pain will go away, look on the bright side. Instead, he stayed quiet because no words could ease the sting of betrayal. Only time could do that.

Roth adjusted the rearview mirror so that it settled on Tressa’s face. He hated seeing her this way, a sad replica of her customarily jovial self. “Maybe we should call Vivian to let her know you’re okay. She was really worried about you.”

Tressa’s eyes landed on his. Even through the reflection, their connection rang intense. Everything and nothing had changed. Though she’d ended her engagement, she was still off-limits. Maybe even more so now.

“I will,” was all she said before sliding her gaze away.

“Should I take you home?”

“No. He’ll probably be at my place. I don’t want to see him. Ever.”

Roth washed a hand over his mouth as if he was ironing his goatee. All he wanted to do was make her smile—laugh even. But he doubted anything he could have said or done would have accomplished that.

“Were you going to the mountains alone?”

An hour ago the answer would have been yes. But once he’d walked away from her on the balcony, he’d discovered a need for something—or in this case, someone—to take his mind off her. Still, he responded, “Yes, I’m going alone.”

“You don’t have a very good poker face.”

Damn. She’d read him. Now he felt like a complete ass. All she needed was another man lying to her. “Why?”

“I guess because you don’t lie enough to pull it off.”

He chuckled. She was right. Since lying was what people had done to him most of his life, he valued the truth more than most. But that wasn’t the why he meant. “Not that. Why did you ask if I was going alone?”

Her gaze fixed on his again. She didn’t need to answer for him to know she wanted an invite to his cabin. If her goal was to hide from the world, it would be the perfect escape for her. No one would find her in Silver Point. An hour ago the idea of him and Tressa running off together would have been damn appealing, but now it reeked of trouble. “Maybe you’d prefer a hotel? You wouldn’t—”

“You don’t want to be saddled with a jilted ex-bride-to-be. I get it.”

Damn. Why did she have to make it sound so morbid? “That’s not it, Tr—”

“Just drop me off at the nearest hotel. I’ve dealt with scarier things. I’ll be fine.”

Scarier things? What scarier things had she dealt with?

Ten minutes later they pulled up in front of the De Lore Hotel in downtown Raleigh. The sprawling building was the epitome of luxury. He’d heard nothing but great things about it. It even looked fancy. Concierge, bellmen, greeters. Tressa would be comfortable here. Much more comfortable than at his cramped cabin.

Why in the hell did he sound like he was trying to convince himself? And why did the idea of leaving her here alone bother him so damn much? It wasn’t like he was abandoning her. She would be okay, right?

Once she was checked in, he’d call Vivian to come and comfort her. Her best friend was who she needed, not the man who constantly fantasized about making love to her. Roth brushed a hand over his close-cut hair.

A young man who’d been standing at what looked like a podium and dressed in a black overcoat and gloves approached his SUV. When Roth lowered the window a gust of cold air rushed in. He welcomed the brisk breeze because it felt as if his system was overheating.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the De Lore Hotel. Will you be staying with us this evening?”

“Ah...” Shit. Spit it out, Lex. Say yes, she will. Say it. His gaze slid to Tressa. When she rested her hand on the door handle to open it, his heart raced. Don’t do it, man. Don’t do it. “Actually, no. Maybe another time. Thank you.” The window rose and he pulled off, leaving the man standing there.

Roth swiped his thumb back and forth against the steering wheel. What in the hell are you doing? This woman of all women should not be in your back seat. And taking her to the cabin? The cabin’s your sanctuary.

A significant thought occurred to him. What about the nightmares? His past had a way of haunting him in his dreams. All he needed was to wake up screaming at the top of his lungs. It would scare the hell out of Tressa and embarrass the hell out of him. An occurrence like that would break two of his cardinal rules: never show vulnerability and always maintain control. He’d learned a long time ago that being vulnerable got you hurt and losing control made you rash.

Her being at the cabin with him period would break the third: always wake up alone.

Two days. He could handle two days cooped up with the woman he’d dreamed about, fantasized about since the first day they met. Two days. No problem. Hell, it wasn’t like he could actually make a move now anyway. That would be a shit thing to do. She was vulnerable, grieving and probably out for a little sexual revenge.

The last point gave him pause. Sexual revenge. A woman scorned was capable of anything, right? Well, he’d never played the role of the rebound guy, and he wouldn’t start now. Not even for Tressa. That alone should keep his libido in check.

“Thank you, Roth. I promise I won’t get in your way.”

He met Tressa’s tender gaze through the rearview mirror and his heartbeat kicked up just a notch. Oh, you’re already getting in my way. Influencing him to make bad decisions, testing his resolve, reminding him how it felt to crave something unattainable. “You’ll like Silver Point,” was all he said.

Roth swiped his thumb back and forth across the steering wheel, lost in his thoughts. This was the stupidest thing he’d done in a long while. Reckless, even. He couldn’t be alone with Tressa. Yes, he had self-control, plenty of self-control. But this would require a whole lot of self-discipline.

His eyes slid to Tressa, who’d been watching him through the mirror. For a split second, he didn’t regret pulling away from the hotel. Her eyes slid away, and after a short time, his did, too.

Four hours later they arrived at the cabin on the hill, as the townsfolk often called it. He popped the SUV into Park, then glanced back at Tressa. She’d fallen asleep two hours into the drive—or had pretended to be to avoid having to talk.

His insides did a shimmy watching her. She really was asleep now, because in the stillness, he could hear her soft snores. As far as bad decisions went, bringing Tressa here was the Grandfather Mountain of poor judgment calls. He just hoped it wouldn’t backfire in his face.

* * *

Tressa assumed Roth’s gentle touch was only in her dreams until his voice penetrated her slumber, and she realized he was trying to wake her. She cracked her eyes and squinted to focus. His handsome face slowly materialized. “How long have I been asleep?” she asked in a groggy voice.