by Abby Brooks
Ellie caught the joke and laughed, and James was struck by just how beautiful she was. Not just her body, though he was a big fan of that, but the way she thought, the way she saw the world. How infectious her happiness was to those around her. She ogled his crotch and grinned wickedly. “It won’t suck until December, my friend. Until then, I think I won the sex lotto.”
The same strange look tightened her eyes again and James decided to ignore it. He held out his elbow. “Shall we?” he asked, indicating the door.
Ellie shook her head. “You go ahead. I’ve got this mess to deal with,” she said and waved her hand over the desk. “Plus, there’s still the kitchen to clean up. And, I’ve got to solve for missing a cook tomorrow.” She crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest and perched on the edge of the desk. Her shoulders rounded forward and she stifled a yawn. “I’ll walk you to the door though.”
“No way. Not gonna happen.” She paused with her hand on his arm and he recognized the admiring squeeze she gave his bicep. He flexed the muscle, unable to skip the chance to show off. “You left the kitchen a mess because I had my hard head set on leaving at two. You closed early because I wanted to be at Shrimp Fest as long as possible. And hell, that cook went bonkers and walked out because of me, too. You’re not cleaning up the mess by yourself when I’m a huge part of why it exists in the first place.”
She tried to protest, but he wouldn’t have it. Seriously, what kind of guy did she think he was? Did she think he was the same as Ethan and Oliver? Neither of whom had any qualms using women for his own pleasure and discarding them when he got bored.
Except, wasn’t that exactly what he’d been doing since Erin left?
He’d left a line of one-night stands in his wake in a ridiculous attempt to make up for spending a decade faithful to a woman who’d taken everything he had to give, but never had the grace to be faithful in return.
James thought back over the weeks of blurry nights and headachy mornings. The booze and the women and the weekends at The Pit. He heard Ethan and Oliver egging him on, cheering when he was at his worst. Maybe Ellie did have a reason to misjudge him.
He scrubbed the floor while she did the dishes, dancing in place to the music streaming from her phone. With the two of them working together, it didn’t take long to put the kitchen back to rights. James’ head was a mess, his thoughts tangled and twisted, painful and confusing. Not wanting Ellie to notice and think they were because of her, he tried to smile around them.
“Thank you so much,” she said, her eyes glimmering with genuine gratitude. “I’d still have hours of work ahead of me if it wasn’t for you.”
“Least I could do.” He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “What are you going to do about your missing cook?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll call someone in to help out while I look for a replacement. Tomorrow might suck, but this girl’s not afraid of hard work.”
As James watched Ellie yawn, he knew she spoke truth. “Might do you some good to be a little afraid. Every now and then. Take some time off. Breathe a little deeper. Smile a little more.”
“Easy for you to say, Captain Trust Fund.”
James offered his best smile and held out his hand. “Walk you to the door?”
She shook her head. “I still need to do a little paperwork—”
“Ellie,” he said, unable to keep the bossy tone out of his voice. “It’s late. And you’ve already explained how very early you wake up.” He paused while she nodded. “The paperwork will be here in the morning.”
“Yeah, but the cook won’t. And there’s no guarantee the guy I’m gonna call will be able to come in on such short notice. There’s a high probability that tomorrow will be jam-packed with too much to do. It's gonna suck.”
“That settles it, then. I hereby deem it un-suck-worthy. You have officially found your replacement cook.” The offer came as a complete surprise to him, but he tried not to let it show. The fact of the matter was he couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving Ellie in a lurch.
“And just how do you think you’re going to run a kitchen? I doubt you even know how to cook.”
“You must forget who I am. Moores can do anything. Plus, my mother and brother are fantastic in the kitchen and I picked up a thing or two along the way. I’m sure I’ll be able to keep up…with some creative censoring of the menu.”
It didn’t take long for James to convince her he was the best deal in town, at least on such short notice. He doubted Ellie had the first clue how she would find anyone to cover for that jerk who walked out. And, given what he was learning about her, he suspected she would’ve just put her nose to the grindstone and done it all herself. Probably would have managed to get everything done too, even if it meant she’d go home and fall into bed afterward.
Ellie told him what time she needed him to arrive the next day and he pulled her in for a long kiss. Never in his life had the prospect of an early morning excited him, but spending another day with Ellie was too good to pass up. With one hand low on her back and the other tangled in her hair, he drew her close and said his goodbyes. Watched as she climbed into her dinosaur of a car and followed her until she turned off toward her apartments.
As he drove himself home, his mood darkened.
What the hell did he think he was doing?
It was one thing to hang out with her in public places, another thing to lose control and fuck her brains out. She was hot after all, and he’d been attracted to her since the first night she brought him home and made out with him in his bed.
But, coming to her rescue?
Spending extra time with her because he wanted to and not because it would help make their relationship more believable? That was something else altogether.
Sure, there was a possibility that people coming to Good Beginnings in the morning would see him helping her out and believe he had real feelings for her, but the fact of the matter was that wasn’t why he made the offer.
He offered because he wanted to help.
And that right there was a slippery fucking slope.
That kind of stuff led to feelings and love. And that was not a place he wanted to be. When James was in love, he wanted to take care of his woman. He’d happily sacrifice his needs to ensure she had everything she ever wanted. What good did that do him? Ten years taking care of Erin left him with a broken home and a shattered heart. Letting himself feel anything even remotely like love was a dangerous game.
James ripped through the gears on his bike, edging the speedometer closer to one hundred. He fought images of Ellie clinging to his back that afternoon, her warm arms pressed tightly around him. Images of her smiling up at him as they danced on the beach. Images of her legs wrapped around him while his dick slammed into her, her eyes rolling back in pleasure.
He fought them back. Let his hurt swallow them up. When he arrived home, he parked the Ducati in the garage, and barreled through the house to pour himself a drink, chugging it down so he could pour another. And another. And then, knowing he should have been asleep, regretting his plans to help Ellie open the store, he started throwing punches at his heavy bag.
He should have taped his hands. Should have worn gloves, but the pain in his knuckles was a welcome relief from the emotional pain he worked so hard to keep at bay. Even after his knuckles split open and started to bleed, he kept punching, grunting and gasping for air until he was nothing but a raw nerve, shaking with pain and fury. Then, and only then, did he wander upstairs and collapse into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Ellie
Ellie woke half nervous and a whole lot excited about spending the day with James at the café. Her body hummed with anticipation and she couldn’t decide if it was a good thing or bad thing. Part of her hoped he didn’t even show. If he ditched her, she could write him off as the player he’d become instead of hoping he was the hero he used to be.
James did show.
And he was pretty good in the kitchen.
But his breath stank of whiskey and his knuckles were covered in bandages with bruises peeking out from all sides. Whatever happened between the time he left the night before and the time he staggered through the door that morning wasn’t good. She did her best to avoid him, only crossing paths long enough to give instructions or to answer his monosyllabic questions. She would talk to him about what was wrong later.
Or maybe not at all.
He’d obviously gone back on his vow to cut back on drinking. If his moods were going to be so all over the place, maybe she didn’t want anything to do with him after all.
As the hours stretched out in cycles of awkward silence interrupted by the hum of customers and their chatter, Ellie found herself watching James during the quiet moments of the day. The more she watched, the more she saw a man battling despair. A man whose heart was burning him from the inside out. His dark eyes, rimmed in pain, stayed averted not just from her, but from everyone, as if he wanted to completely disappear.
Sometime around noon, she brought him a glass of water and some ibuprofen. “Want a coffee?” she asked as she set the water beside him, carefully avoiding eye contact.
James shrugged. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. But we’ll skip that part for now. Coffee? Or no?”
When he finally met her gaze, the storm boiling beneath his surface took her by surprise. Her breath caught in her throat and she reached for him.
He dropped his eyes to his work, shunning her touch. “I brought this on myself. I’ll deal with the consequences myself.”
Ignoring the ibuprofen, he took a long drink of water and didn’t look at her again. She sighed heavily and opened her mouth to tell him exactly how little she appreciated the silence—not to mention the about-face in his attitude. He was worrying her and making her feel awkward, but another round of customers trundled through the door before she got one word out. She turned for the counter, glad her mouth didn’t get a chance to totally alienate him. Whatever James was dealing with, the last thing he needed was her piling a bunch of crap on top of it.
Wasn’t that the whole point of the fake relationship?
He wasn’t ready for a real one.
Not then, and maybe not ever.
And that was fine, except Ellie was becoming attached to the idea of being around him. He might not want a relationship, but she was starting to wonder if she did. The day ended and James left with barely a word spoken between them.
Ellie’s stomach boiled with nerves and anger.
Parasite Steve had used her for her apartment and her money. For him, she was nothing more than a roof over his head, food in his belly, and a place to put his dick. She’d never loved him. Nor had she felt loved by him.
She didn’t want to live through something like that ever again. She wanted to give all the love she had inside and to feel loved in return. She wanted to look at someone the way Juliet looked at Ian the other night—well, from the moment they met really.
She had agreed to pretend to date James when she was tipsy on margaritas and atmosphere. She agreed because it sounded fun, like a chance to break through the tedium of everyday life. Sleeping with him was proving to be a terrible decision. It put her in a situation where she wouldn’t be able to keep her emotions separated from the agreement. She was going to end up wanting more than he could give and spending the next several months feeling used.
Had she traded one parasite for another?
Had she been so wrapped up in who James used to be that she hadn’t noticed who he’d become?
By the time she got home, her mood was almost as dark as his had been that morning. After spending the day mainlining coffee, she was too wired to take the nap she craved, the nap she knew would make her feel better. So, she plopped on the couch and tried to lose herself in a book, but still couldn’t stop thinking about him.
The hurt in his eyes. The bruises on his knuckles. The whiskey on his breath.
What happened after he left the café last night?
They’d had such a good time at the Shrimp Fest, laughing with Ian and Juliet, dancing as the sun set. And the kiss that sent them back to Good Beginnings, it had been so passionate, so…so…real.
But I want to kiss you, he’d said on the dance floor. Not fake girlfriend Ellie, but the woman I have in my arms right now.
And what had he said the moment they were alone?
I’ve wanted you since you took me home from Hurricane’s that first night. I’ve tried to ignore it, but I can’t. Not any longer.
Was that the problem? Ellie sat up and scooted toward the edge of the sofa, her thoughts swirling in a tsunami of questions. Was he starting to feel something for her?
A day like the one she’d just experienced warranted a drink. She wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Reading was out of the question. With all the thoughts flitting through her head, she couldn’t read a single word without interrupting herself. She turned on the TV and kicked her heels up on the coffee table, flipping through the channels until she settled on an old movie.
Two beers later, the whirlwind of thought had died down and Ellie was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. After making sure her alarm was set for too damn early, she curled up on the couch and closed her eyes, too tired to worry about putting herself to bed properly. She just needed the day to be over so she could focus on making the next one better.
It felt like she had just closed her eyes when her phone started blaring at her from its place on the arm of the couch. She sat up, confused and achy and not at all pleased with herself for choosing to pass out downstairs rather than head on up to bed. She reached for her phone and realized it wasn’t her alarm that woke her, it was a phone call. In fact, it wasn’t just any phone call. It was a phone call from James.
She answered, completely skipping all pleasantries. “What the hell? Do you realize what time it is?”
“Yeah, it’s late. Sorry.” His words were slurred to oblivion.
“How drunk are you?”
“Too drunk to stop myself from calling you, but not drunk enough to forget I wanted to.”
“James…” Ellie’s heart fluttered to life at his words and she took a minute to push those feelings back down where they belonged. “Can you get someone to drive you home?”
“I don’t know. Can you drive me home?”
She made an exasperated sound into the phone and stood. However long she’d been asleep, it hadn’t been long enough to sober her up. “No. I’m at home. I was asleep. Get someone where you are to drive you home.”
There was a pause.
Then a laugh.
Then James finally spoke. “I am where you are.”
Chapter Nineteen
Ellie
Someone knocked on Ellie’s front door and she heard it on a slight delay through the phone. “Knock, knock, Ellie. Can I come in? Please?”
On autopilot, she stormed to the door and flung it open to find James leaning against the wall, phone still to his ear.
“Hi, Ellie,” he said into the phone, then, when he realized she was standing in front of him, a smile slithered across his face and he pointed at her. “There you are. Right. There.” He fumbled with his phone, attempting to disconnect the call she’d already ended, then shoved it into his pocket. “Can I come in?”
She sighed and grabbed his arm, enjoying the taut muscles dancing under her fingers despite her frustrations with him. “Yes,” she said, pulling him inside. “Come in.”
As he stumbled past, she put her hands on his shoulders guiding him toward the couch. “I’m glad to see you,” he said. “I missed you the moment I left the café.”
She didn’t know if she should yell at him, feel sorry for him, or just give in and fall completely head over heels in love with him. “I’m sure you didn’t, but that’s sweet of you to say.”
James sprawled out on the couch and opened his arms to her, frowning when she sat primly on the opposite end.
“I can’t drive you home,” she said, ignoring his pouty face. “I’ve had too much to drink tonight, too.”
“Aha!” His eyes lit up like he’d caught her shoplifting kittens. “See! You broke the promise, too.”
“But, James, I didn’t make the promise. I don’t have a problem with alcohol.”
“I don’t, either.”
“Oh, yeah? Which of us is so drunk he can’t get himself home safely? For the third time that I know of?”
James pondered her statement, his handsome face creasing with concern. “I guess that’d be me.”
“And I get the feeling that you probably needed help getting home on other occasions and I just wasn’t there to know.”
“That’s probably true.” He leaned his head back on the couch. “I need to be numb. I can’t keep feeling…anything. I hate going home. It’s not even a home anymore. It’s just a house. All the stuff that made it a home is gone.”
Ellie didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t say a word. If James was about to let out all the stuff he’d been holding inside, she wasn’t going to stop him. He’d been bottling up so much pain, it was poisoning him. He needed to let it out before it killed him.
“And it’s not like I was still in love with her when she called it off.” James lifted his head and his gaze settled on Ellie. Despite the slur in his words and the droop of his eyelids, she could see he was conscious of what he was telling her. He wasn’t spewing off some drunken speech he’d forget in the morning. He knew what he was saying and who he was saying it to.
“That doesn’t make it hurt any less,” she said, still afraid to move and break whatever spell he’d fallen under.
James shook his head. “Nope. And the betrayal of being cheated on? You haven’t been cheated on before.”
“No. Parasite Steve was the only long-term relationship I’ve ever had.” She almost finished that thought, almost said what was in her head and heart, but clamped down on the words before they got out. Love can shatter you. I avoid it like the plague. “But I’ve experienced betrayal. It was different, but I know what it means when someone you love turns on you.”