Room to Breathe

by Liz Talley

  Ellery shook her head and waved a hand, wishing she could talk to him as easily as she did behind the keyboard. When they corresponded, he always had good suggestions and an insightfulness that dug beneath her shallow worldviews. Maybe he would know how to handle finding one’s mother diddling the much-younger help. Okay, Clay was the contractor, but still, wasn’t that sexual misconduct? “It’s not that. The house is fine. I’m just dealing with family stuff.”

  “Oh, well, I understand that,” he said.

  She looked at him and saw he did indeed understand. Or thought he did. Her father’s comments last night had been inappropriate, and Evan probably thought what she dealt with was the fallout. Ha. She wished this was about Rex acting like an ass. Nope. Way bigger. “Yeah, dealing with family can be . . . impossible.”

  Evan smiled. “But what would we do without them, right?”

  “Yeah,” Ellery said. “I do wonder sometimes. In fact, maybe I need to find out.”

  “Hey, while we’re on that subject, I wanted to ask you something. Your mother and I have been corresponding for a few months, just a general friendship struck up when I sent her an email about speaking at Poppy’s school. Your mom’s a special lady.”

  Ellery swallowed hard and tried not to look guilty. Here’s where she should say: Funny thing, Evan. I answer email for my mother, and, surprise, you’ve been chatting with me all this time. But she didn’t say that. Maybe because she was embarrassed about the deception. Or maybe because she wanted to continue the secret relationship because in that she could be herself . . . or not herself. Whatever. Evan always made her feel like she was perfectly okay being the hot mess she was, but of course he really didn’t know her. You never really knew anyone. “Yeah, she’s certainly special.”

  “I’m thinking about asking her out. Maybe drive over to Shreveport for dinner? You think she’d be open to that? I know she hasn’t dated much since her divorce.”

  Evan wanted to ask her mother out?

  Ellery’s vision flashed brighter, and something ugly tore loose inside her. No. Her mother didn’t get to have Evan, too. She’d tossed aside her father, screwed Clay, and now she got a shot with Evan? Nu-uh. No frickin’ way.

  She didn’t want Evan to see the truth in her gaze, so she glanced away.

  Of course this would happen. Hadn’t she suspected as much? Evan had said he thought they had . . . what had he called it? Oh yeah. A connection that transcended distance? But that connection was as false as Ellery’s eyelashes. Somehow the fact he had no clue what was going on made her even angrier. If they had a connection, why hadn’t he noticed Ellery beyond simple niceties? How come he couldn’t feel that it was with her he shared the zip, zing of something more? And not with the woman doing Clay five doors down?

  “You know, she’s in her room. I just left there. Maybe you should go ask her,” Ellery said, turning on her heel and heading toward the front door. Maybe Evan would catch her mother in flagrante and understand exactly what he was dealing with—a woman who was more messed up than the one he had actually been feeling a “connection” with.

  And maybe Ellery was as screwed up as her mother. After all, she’d cheated on her fiancé. Okay, it wasn’t cheating really. A kiss meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

  Except it did to you.

  “Stop it,” Ellery whispered under her breath to her stupid inner voice.

  “Wait, Ellery,” Evan called from behind her.

  But she wasn’t stopping, because the handsome man who’d been Ellery’s little secret all along asking her whore mother out on a date was the last straw. The absolute, final insulting slap of hard reality that Ellery had been running from. Hell, she never even knew she was running from anything. She’d thought she was making lemonade from lemons, but the truth was she hadn’t been handed lemons. She’d been handed a steaming pile of crap to deal with, and a gal couldn’t make anything with steaming crap. All she could do was throw it at someone else.

  She stormed down the hill toward the house where Josh probably sat with earbuds in, eyes on his computer. Or maybe he was jacking off in the bathroom to his little video. Or maybe he’d already left without so much as a See you later to the woman he was supposed to love. But didn’t.

  Ellery now knew this.

  Josh didn’t love her. Not like he was supposed to love her.

  Angry tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she willed herself to stop being pathetic. Suck it up, buttercup. You know how to do this. Slap a smile on your face and pretend everything is A-okay. Stick to the plan.

  As she approached the house, she glanced over to the trail she’d taken twice already. Her feet wanted to take her there, to that place where no one could find her. Except Gage.

  But Gage was a crutch. She’d used him to feel better about herself.

  Or maybe that wasn’t true.

  If anything, she’d been her real self with him. She hadn’t tried to make Gage like her. Instead she’d let all her ugly out. And he’d kissed the hell out of her in spite of her warts.

  She didn’t want to go back in that house to face Josh . . . or make merry with her friends. Her life felt too much for her at present. Decisions had to be made—should she confront Josh? She had to at some point, even if it meant admitting she’d snooped on his computer. Should she confront her mother? Eventually, but she couldn’t deal with the thought of what her mother and Clay had been doing. And how in all that was holy was she going to pay her rent and credit card bills? And finally, she still had to do something about Evan. God, her life was so effed up!

  Just run away.

  The voice inside her screamed the solution. Ellery could climb in her car and leave. Drive fast and go where no one could find her. Someone would pack up her abandoned leather bustier and warming lubricant. Someone would eat her stupid cake and do the Jell-O shots. Someone would pick up the pieces of her life and put them somewhere for safekeeping.

  “Hey, you,” Madison said from the rocking chair.

  Ellery squeaked and clutched her chest. “Damn it, you scared me.”

  “I know. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Madison held up a coffee mug. “I got the coffeepot working. Josh had pressed all the wrong buttons.”

  “Figures. I sort of forgot to bring him coffee anyway,” Ellery said, walking to the rocking chair next to her friend.

  “I put on the kettle for you and found a tea bag in my overnight bag from last time. Your mom left us everything but tea.”

  “She’s been distracted, I guess.” Doing Clay and flirting with Evan.

  “What’s wrong, Elle? I thought after last night, you’d be . . . well, happier. I saw the bustier and stockings. Did Josh like-y?”

  “Josh fell asleep before he could even see me in it.” Ellery couldn’t believe she’d actually admitted Josh’s disinterest to her friend. Even with Madison, her absolute best friend, she never wanted to present herself as anything but totally together.

  “Oh shit, E,” Madison said, her toe stopping her rocking motion. She turned to Ellery. “I’m so sorry. Maybe it’s all the stress he’s under. Med school’s so tough and such a commitment.”

  Ellery stared at the mums blooming brightly from the barrel between them. “That’s what they say.”

  Madison reached over and took her hand, squeezing her fingers. “It won’t last.”

  “I don’t know, Mads. Everything is so screwed up right now. My dad is in financial trouble, and my mom . . . well, she’s . . . sleeping with someone.”

  “What?” Madison’s eyes got big. “That’s crazy, but in a way good. I mean, your mom deserves to be happy, right?”

  Ellery inhaled deeply. “Sure. But you don’t get it. It’s a younger guy, Mads.”

  “Reeeally?” Madison drawled, her mouth dropping open for a few seconds. “I never would have pegged your mother as a cradle robber, but good for her.”

  “No, it’s disgusting. She’s turning forty in December, and he’s . . . he’s too y
oung for her. And I don’t want to talk about my mom having sex. It’s so disturbing.”

  “You know she has had sex, right? I mean, at least once,” Madison said with a grin.

  “Just stop,” Ellery said, wondering why she had even sat down. She wanted to leave. Just get in the car. Not look back.

  Madison sobered. “I’m sorry, Elle. I hoped you would forget all the bad stuff this weekend. I know things have been tough, but you have a fiancé who loves you, and when you get an internship next year, everything will look different.”

  If she got an internship. She had filled out the applications online but had yet to submit her portfolio or send any follow-ups. Something inside her had died when J.J. had delivered her email of doom. That one rejection had started her on the slide down the hill she now tumbled. She felt lost and didn’t know how to get the old Ellery back. “Yeah, maybe so.”

  “Oh yeah,” Madison said, sitting up and craning her neck like a meerkat. “There he is.”

  “There who is?” Ellery asked, leaning over so she could see around the large cypress beam. Walking from the parking lot below the vineyard tasting rooms was Gage. He wore tight jeans, hiking boots, and a flannel shirt, and he carried a motorcycle helmet. His jaw looked carved of granite, and she could have sworn his gray-green eyes darted toward where they sat on the patio before he started his climb toward the place where he worked. Ellery looked back at the parking lot and spied a shiny Harley-Davidson motorcycle sitting beside a truck marked with the One Tree Estates logo. Of course he rode a hog. Because of course.

  “That delicious treat who works the bar, that’s who.”

  “Gage?”

  “You know him?” Madison turned to her.

  “Sort of. We’ve met a few times.”

  “Any chance I can meet him? He’s adorable and hot and tasty and—”

  Ellery actually managed to laugh, even as something ugly rose within her, which seemed to be becoming a habit. But this ugly screamed “Mine,” and she had no such reason to feel that way. Other than the fact that she’d kissed him last night beneath the October moon, and it had been incredibly moving. Like an awakening. Like something she suddenly longed to do again. And again. And again.

  Gage disappeared into the building like a message.

  Not for you.

  Madison snapped her attention back to Ellery. “You want breakfast? Your mom brought some Danish and muffins. Oh, and fruit.”

  “Go ahead,” Ellery said, nodding at her friend. “I’ll be in later. I’m enjoying the morning.”

  Madison rose and opened the door. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m perfect.”

  But Ellery was a liar. Nothing was perfect at the moment. Nothing at all. So she sat in the rocker, contemplating how she could change her trajectory, but she could find no answers. No answers at all.

  Sliding her phone from her hoodie pocket, she stared at the many messages on her screen. Several from her mother. Please. Let’s talk. Please answer. I need you to talk to me.

  Ellery ignored those messages and pressed the center button with her thumb. The home screen appeared. It was a picture of her and Josh on the day he’d proposed. She looked stupidly happy. Josh looked pleased. Suddenly she hated the picture, so she pressed the email icon, making it disappear.

  She scrolled.

  No response from Evan on the email she’d sent him that morning. After Evan told her he was asking Daphne out, she had to figure out what to do. She felt like doing nothing. Radio silent. Ignore him. Maybe he’d get the message.

  She scrolled up to one of her favorite past emails he’d sent her and clicked on the subject—My Philosophy of Life According to Wine.

  Dee Dee,

  We saw geese flying over our small lake this morning. They honked and made a ruckus, making Poppy giggle. She said they sounded like the lunch ladies at her school, who obviously spend too much time fussing. Funny how children can hear or see something and make it amusing. Ah, daughters. I know you’re worried about yours and her relationship with her fiancé. I hate to hear there are concerns. Making a marriage work is much like making wine. You can plant the best vines, rejoice in the sunlight, and take comfort in the rains, but in the end, what you end up with inside the bottle is unexpected. Every little element the grape encounters changes it, whether it be temperature or soil or something unexplained. Often what you think you’ll pour out isn’t what you get. Sometimes you have to embrace the unexpected.

  Evan

  Embrace the unexpected.

  Ellery cast her gaze once again on the winery and tasting rooms where Gage no doubt prepared for a busy day. The passion Gage had sparked in her had been unexpected. His lips against hers had been like one of those unmeasurable elements and had birthed too many questions inside her. His kiss had been different. Right. Good. Sweet as the wine they made here.

  She rose without thinking and walked toward the unexpected.

  Five minutes later she pushed into the winery, which housed the tasting room and gift shop. Here was where she’d first seen Gage, looking remarkably grumpy, sexy, and intriguing. She’d disliked him as much as he’d turned her on. Yet she could not deny he’d awakened something inside her, something she couldn’t even put a name to. For some reason, she had to know if what he’d started inside her was real.

  The tasting room wasn’t open yet, but the door was unlocked, so she entered to find Gage alone behind the horseshoe-shaped bar, drying glasses and counting them.

  He glanced up, looking automatically annoyed at the interruption, but his eyes softened when he noted it was her. “Oh, it’s you. Hey.”

  “Hey.” She stood just inside, allowing the door to close against her back. The click of the lock against the strike seemed to reflect her decision to come here.

  Too late now.

  He glanced back down at the glasses. “You know we’re not open yet.”

  “I know. I didn’t come for the wine.”

  Lifting his gaze to her, he hooked an eyebrow. It was gorgeously sexy. “So . . . ?”

  “So I think you should know that my fiancé doesn’t love me, my mom is screwing my ex-boyfriend from high school, and my dad is broke and can’t pay my credit card bills.”

  Gage’s eyes widened. She bet he hadn’t expected her to lead with something like that.

  “Also you should know I lost an internship in New York City to a guy from Minnesota who pretends to be Italian. He also wears orange wing tips. Then I took a job working for my mom because I couldn’t cut it anywhere else.”

  Gage set the glass down on the counter and tossed the towel next to it. He moved around the edge and started walking toward her. “Never been a fan of orange wing tips.”

  “No one is.” Ellery held up her hand. “But that’s not all.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “There’s more?”

  “My daddy bought my car for me, I cheated on an ethics test, and I got a Brazilian wax that is not very comfortable at all, especially when wearing a thong.” She knew her face was red, but for some reason she needed to tell him exactly what a wreck she was. He had to see her, the real her, not the one who pretended to be this together chick with a designer bag and glossy lips. She needed to say all this to someone, and for some crazy-assed reason, she wanted it to be Gage.

  “Is that all?” he asked, stopping in front of her, his expression unflappable.

  Ellery shook her head.

  He was so close that she could reach up and trace his lips. She had the sudden inclination to do that. Just trail her finger slowly across his bottom lip. His gaze dropped to her lips, lower to the hoodie she’d worn last night. She wondered if he remembered what she’d worn beneath. Did he want her as much as she wanted him? Because she wanted him. Ellery wanted him naked beneath her. She wanted to trace his tattoos with her tongue, explore every inch of his body, watch him when she knelt before him and did what that guy did to the other guy on that horrible home movie on Josh’s hard drive.

&nbs
p; Gage’s gaze rose back to capture hers. “What else?”

  “Last night when you kissed me . . . that was the best thing that has happened to me since I won Miss Louisiana Redbud Queen and got this giant crown that absolutely no one could ever wear. I do believe that kiss was better than that, and it’s all I can think about. I mean that other stuff is pretty . . . uh, there . . . but the way I felt with you last night was . . .” Ellery swallowed.

  “What?” Gage asked, his voice so soft her heart squeezed.

  “Real.” She looked up at him, knowing that she was being completely honest. “I want—”

  He caught her words with his lips. Her head and body collided with the closed door as he kissed her. She opened her mouth and let him in, let him take every bit of doubt, worry, ickiness she’d been carrying with her for the last few hours and replace it with hot, wet wonderful. He caught her hands, lifted, and pushed them over her head, pinning her against the rough cedar of the door.

  Then he proceeded to kiss the hell out of her.

  Ellery arched her back, and the delicious friction of her breasts against his chest sent her to a new level of desire. At that moment she’d do whatever Gage wanted her to do. Drop on all fours and howl like a dog or rip her clothes off and do him right here in the middle of the winery.

  His mouth punished her, but she could feel how much he wanted her. He devoured her like she was something sweet to eat, and Ellery loved the way he made her feel.

  She was out of control, and hunger for him gnawed at her convictions, drove her to abandon any sort of propriety, and made her forget everything she thought she was.

  “Ellery,” he whispered against her lips. “Baby?”

  “What?”

  He bit her bottom lip and lifted his head. “I want this. You know I do.”

  “I do, too.” Her breathing was ragged and her body on fire.

  “But you gotta fix some things before we can do this. You understand? I want you, but I’m not jumping into something so fucked up I can’t get myself back.”

  Their breaths mingled, rasping, short, turned on. She wanted him to shut up and kiss her. Not tell her she had to fix anything.