Page 67 of 50 Ways to Win Back Your Lover

Now we’re here, in the romantic inn of inns, and there’s only one room.

“I guess it’s the same as at our apartments,” Delilah says, drawing out her words, as if by the end of her agreement, the agent will have miraculously found a vacancy.

She won’t. I feel it. Not only has no one at Sugar and Sips asked Delilah about her wedding in front of me recently, but I’ve received numerous encouraging smiles. The winds have shifted in my favor.

“We don’t have any cots left,” the agent says, “but we can send up extra sheets for the couch.”

“Yeah, okay.” Delilah fumbles around in her purse. “Do you need a credit card for a deposit?”

“We have one from when Mr. Baker booked. Just need a signature here and you can be on your way. Will you be needing one key or two?”

Delilah shouts, “Two.” I say, “One.”

The agent smirks and hands us two keys. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call.”

“How about a second room,” Delilah mumbles as she yanks the handle of her bag and hurries to the elevators.

Once we’re sealed inside, I press the button for the third floor. “This will be fun. Like when we used to sleep outside under the stars.”

“I have a fiancé, E.”

“And I have a couch to sleep on. I doubt he’ll mind.” And he’s the last person I want to talk about right now. “Are you sure Candy’s okay with Sandra? What if they’re on a stakeout and things go south?”

“The worst that’ll happen is Sandra dresses Candy up with a cute bandanna around her neck.”

I didn’t consider a disguise. “What if she dresses her up as a devil with horns and a spiked tail, and the other dogs make fun of her?”

“You’re too much, E.”

I open my phone and scroll through some pictures: Candy smiling outside Sugar and Sips with her tongue lolling, Candy smiling in the park with her tongue lolling, Candy smiling on my bed with her tongue lolling. “Is it weird that I miss her already?”

Delilah sneaks a look at my phone and awws. “I’m sure she misses you too.”

“If this is me as a pet owner, imagine how pathetic I’d be as a dad.”

The elevator opens on our floor. I’m two steps out when I realize Delilah’s not beside me. I glance back and frown. Her face is slack, her attention locked on the floor, analyzing it for God knows what, as the elevator starts sliding shut. I lunge forward and shove my hand between the doors, then gently guide Delilah out. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” she mumbles but won’t meet my eyes. “Just had a freak-out moment. Thought I forgot to remind Angel to bring the extra gluten-free cupcakes for tomorrow. Then I remembered I did tell her. So, yeah, no big deal. Just a momentary memory lapse.” She does an awkward jazz-hands move. “I’m all good.”

She bolts ahead of me, but I’m not fooled. She’s panicked about us sharing this room. I get it. It’s so romantic here only monks would resist getting naked and fornicating in all that luxury. Or maybe they wouldn’t. But, as per usual, I won’t push Delilah for anything she can’t handle. We’ll take this at her pace.

When we find our door number, I fan my hand toward the electronic sensor. “You can do the honors, milady.”

An eye roll later, we’re in romantic heaven.

Fireplace? Check.

Decadent hot tub? Check.

One canopy bed, complete with unicorn mattress, furry throw blanket, and chocolates on the pillows? Check, check, check, and check.

I curl my lip. “This room is awful. Has anyone even cleaned in here?”

Delilah loosens her death grip on her bag. “I bet the half-burned motel we passed on the highway is more hospitable.”

“I bet sleeping on a bed of rocks would be more comfortable than that.” I gesture angrily to the plushest bed I’ve ever seen.

“I bet there are cockroaches in the sinks.”