He couldn’t have been more wrong on the last count. If anything, he wanted her even more. She’d always been hot and confident, even at sixteen, but as she got older, she got better and better. He’d never seen someone five-foot-nothing take up so much space. Her energy and charisma made her the biggest person in the room, and it was an effort not to watch her every animated move. Too bad she was such a chickenshit.
Shane shook his head. “So have you guys picked a date for the wedding yet?”
“Nope, but we’re thinking summertime.”
“Best time to have it in Rhode Island. That’s one thing I’m not looking forward to—spending the next month in the nut-shrinking cold.” They stepped onto the elevator and Galen punched in their floor number. He cleared his throat, and strived to keep his tone casual. “How’s Cat been doing? Got a guy at home or still a lone wolf?”
Galen shook his head. “Not yet. She’s a tough nut, that one. But I gotta be honest, there’ve been a couple real douchebags lately, and I’m glad she’s not settling for just anyone. My only concern is that she’ll toss the good ones away as quick as the bad. She’s got commitment issues.”
While the last part wasn’t great news for him, the first half of Galen’s admission had him breathing a sigh of relief. No guy. At least he had a chance then.
The elevator doors slid open, and he and Galen stepped out. “This way. We’re in the same wing.”
When they reached Galen’s room first, his friend turned to face him. “Breakfast tomorrow?”
“I’m going to try to get a solid seven, but call me when you guys wake up, and if I answer I’ll meet you for eggs before I leave.”
“Sounds good. You’re three doors down.” He thrust his chin down the long hallway and slipped his key in the lock. “Just a warning, it’s about to get crazy in here. You may want to wear earplugs.” A lethal grin lit Galen’s face, and Shane rolled his eyes.
“Sure thing, asshole.”
Galen’s chuckle echoed behind him as Shane made his way to Cat’s room. Just as he was opening the door, Lacey’s feminine laugh spilled down the hallway to join Galen’s. Good for him. His lady did wait up. So did that mean Cat was here? His pulsed kicked up. Lacey’s laughter was cut short when Shane closed the door behind him. One light on, no one home. Maybe she’d stopped off to gamble for a while before coming up.
He took in the opulent surroundings, eyeing the two queen beds draped in green and gold. Cat’s hair would look like fire against those colors, like New England in the fall. He groaned, tossed the key and his wallet onto the dresser, and headed for the bathroom. A shower first, to clear his head, and then he’d figure out how to deal with this damn woman.
An hour later, he bit back a curse. The very blankets he’d been admiring were now his own personal instruments of torture and still no Cat. He growled, kicking at the sheets strangling his legs like a straitjacket, and rolled off the bed to yank them from beneath the mattress. Who could sleep like that? He shook the bedding out to cover the bed loosely, then climbed beneath the layers, tugging them up over his shoulder as his thoughts drifted back to Cat.
Maybe that’s why she couldn’t settle down. Maybe that was how relationships made her feel. Hotel-tucked. Trapped. And the tighter the tuck, the more panicked she got. Whatever the case, if her response to his little “heartbreaker” jab was any indication, nothing had changed on her end either. She still wasn’t in the market for a serious relationship. And didn’t that fucking blow. Although it was better than showing up after all this time and finding her madly in love with someone else.
Just the thought soured the burgers in his stomach. Thank God she wasn’t. From what he’d gathered from Galen, she was definitely single.
But where the hell was she?
Shane stared at the whorls in the ceiling and then rolled to his side, shifting a bleary eye to the empty bed next to his again. It had been two hours since they’d left her and Lacey at the bar. Was she going to just stay out all night in an effort to avoid him, or was she going to put on her big-girl pants at some point and come back to the room? Either way was okay with him. He had at least a month and if everything went according to plan, he’d have all the time in the world to get her to see things his way. He briefly considered going down to the poker room rather than stewing, but twenty-four hours with only the fitful nap on the plane in the way of sleep hit him all at once and his lids finally drifted closed.
His last waking thought was of Cat in the lake, a damp, red curl obscuring one green eye, her siren’s smile mocking him.