The District - Page 23

“About a month ago, but you know what’s funny?”

“Besides your father being a brujo and your sister being a witch? What?”

“I had a dream about Vivi a few weeks ago.”

“Good? Bad?”

She massaged her temple with her fingertips. “It just came to me. I had forgotten all about it.”

“Do you remember what it was about?”

He had stretched out his legs and wedged his feet against her seat, too close to her thigh for comfort.

She scooted over a little. “I don’t remember now. Just Vivi being Vivi, yapping up a storm about something. Maybe she was at the front of a classroom and I was a student. Something like that.”

“Is she much younger than you? Five years?”

“About six. I think my father groomed her like he wanted to do with me had my mom allowed it.”

“I think your mom made a wise decision.”

“You think I should contact Vivi about this coven stuff, don’t you?” She tucked a few damp tendrils of hair behind her ear.

He raised his shoulders out of the water. “Couldn’t hurt, could it? Are you two on good terms?”

“Sure. She’s a crazy kid, but she means well.” Actually, they’d had an argument over Kendall the last time they’d seen each other. Vivi had gotten the nutty idea that they should test Kendall for psychic ability. A baby.

Of course, she couldn’t reveal any of this to Eric, and if she did contact Vivi she’d have to keep her away from Eric so her sister wouldn’t let the cat out of the bag. Her head began to pound with the thought of keeping her lies straight.

“I’ll leave it up to you, and I promise I won’t break the rule again, or at least that rule.”

He pushed up with his arms and his body floated to the right. Shifting into position, he closed his eyes. “Right there. My lower back has been killing me.”

The jets gurgled as the water shot against his back, and Christina’s fingers tingled as she thought about digging them into his skin to relieve his pain as she’d done so many times before.

He used to tell her she had magic hands, better than any masseuse or chiropractor, but she knew her ability to relieve his pain had nothing to do with her talents and everything to do with love. Because she’d loved this man with every fiber of her being.

And still did.

“I have some ibuprofen in my room.”


“That would help. It’s that old football injury acting up. It was better on my previous assignment because I wasn’t sitting at a desk so much.”

The couple from the pool were making their way toward the hot tub and Eric murmured under his breath. “Uh-oh. I hate communal hot tubs.”

The woman put her foot on the first step. “Mind if we join you?”

“You can have it to yourselves.” Christina stood up and the air caused a rash of goose pimples to rush across her skin. “We were getting ready to leave anyway.”

Eric rose from the water looking like a Greek god. If that’s the body he got from sitting in a chair too much, she’d like to patent that chair.

The other woman missed her step and splashed into the hot tub.

Eric caught her arm. “Careful.”

She laughed. “Didn’t even see that second step.”

Christina’s lip curled. Yeah, because you were staring at my man.

Her possessive feelings toward Eric punched her in the gut. This case was going to take a toll on her in more ways than one. What had Rich been thinking putting the two of them together?

She bent at the knees to snatch up her cup and then tossed it in the trash can. She toweled off and draped her body in the oversize robe.

Eric stuffed the wine bottle into the trash and swiped his towel across his back and then flung it over one shoulder. “Ready?”

“Do you still want that ibuprofen?”

“Yep. The jets helped but not as much as—other things.”

Was he thinking about her magic hands? All he had to do was say the word and she’d be all over him.

She crooked her finger. “Follow me.”


They rode up the elevator in silence. Was he struggling as much as she was? And what was his struggle? Trust? Telling him he’d been a father the past two years wouldn’t do much to alleviate that.

When they reached their rooms, they both swiped their cards.

He pointed into his room. “I’ll meet you at the secret door.”

She closed her door and scooped in a deep breath. She needed to delve down for some willpower. She couldn’t start getting cozy with Eric and then drop the A-bomb on him, or in this case, the P-bomb for parenthood.

She clicked her card down on the credenza and reached for her purse. She dug inside for her little bottle of ibuprofen and pulled out her phone at the same time to charge it.

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