Blake frowned. “I wish I could, little girl.” He stepped closer and took the bottle out of her hand. Her head fell and her glossy eyes fused to the floor. He knew body language, and hers was screaming defeat. She was embarrassed. Heartbroken. Shrinking.
He couldn’t allow it.
That’s when reality hit him.
“You’re in your honeymoon suite,” he said.
She nodded, like duh, moron, and he grinned. There was a bit of that sass left in her. He just had to tap into it.
“And you were supposed to go on your honeymoon tomorrow.”
Again, she nodded.
He looked around. “Seems to me you’re trying to have the adventure you wanted. So why don’t you keep doing that?”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, blowing a lock of hair out of her eye and reaching for the bottle, but he held it out of reach. Just like when they were kids. Only thing missing was him placing his free palm on her forehead while she swiped at the treasure he held.
Instead, he gently cupped her chin and lifted her face. Those bright eyes met his.
“Unfortunately, I left my magic wand in my other jacket,” he said. “I can’t make the last two days go away. But maybe there’s one thing I can do.”
She looked at him with wide eyes and so much hope that he knew he was on the brink of the best and worst idea he’d ever had.
“I can’t make that asshole unhurt you, but I can make it so you do get on a plane and enjoy your honeymoon.”
“What?” she asked breathlessly.
“You should go on your honeymoon,” he said. “Go have your adventure.”
When those lush lips parted and the hint of a smile crept up, he knew that this was a bad, bad idea. But the alternative of her wallowing in sadness wasn’t an option.
“I wouldn’t enjoy it,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii, but…I can’t. It’ll just remind me how alone I am. I want this fantasy…but instead I have…” She lifted her arms up and motioned to the room. “An empty room. A broken promise.”
“You can make it your own,” he said, and before he thought better of it, he added, “Tropical island, beautiful woman, you’ll be fine. I bet Lane will even go with you.”
She frowned. “My brother is not part of any fantasy ever.”
“I meant to protect you.”
She huffed. “I don’t need protection.”
“Well someone should look after you. Especially if you’re going to drink and bench press.”
She laughed, and that one sound made his chest swell like he’d won a victory. “Yeah, well, I don’t need Lane to be my spotter. But maybe you’re right about going anyway,” she said.
Good. Progress. Now he just needed to find Lane, because he knew there was no way he’d let her leave the mainland in this vulnerable state. Yep, she needed a spotter for her trip.
You could go with her.
No. Hell no. Where had that voice come from?
He’d done his job. Cheered her up and gotten her to leave the room. Success. He’d take it. And he’d not think about how that damn tank top was mocking him right now with little glimpses of creamy cleavage.
“Spotter,” he repeated. “I’ll go talk to Lane and—”
“Bye,” she said, pushing him toward the door. Clearly not liking the turn of conversation. But she was out of her mind if she thought she was getting out of the state alone.
Only as she shoved him out the door and blew him a kiss, Blake wondered if he’d just helped or made things a hell of a lot worse.