by Jessie Evans
Ross reached for her. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m really fine with it. I’m just nervous about the dinner service tonight and scared it’s going to be dead in here again, that’s all. Don’t be upset.”
She shook her head, sending her long hair flying around her shoulders, making her skin itch the way it always did when she left it down. “Don’t be sorry. Just promise me you’re going to kill it. That you’ll let me help you kill it.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Kill…the name.”
“Yes, that awful name,” she said. “I want it dead, because otherwise I’m going to be punching a lot a people in the mouth and that’s not a good way to fit in and make friends.”
He let out a tired-sounding sigh, but he was smiling again, giving her hope she was getting through to him. “Okay. You can help me kill it, but only if you’ll come get in the shower and let me show you how much I appreciate you taking me under your wing.”
“I’m not taking you under my wing,” she said softly, stepping into his open arms. “You’re in my heart. And no one hurts the people who are in my heart.”
His smile faded, replaced by an almost pained look that scared her a little until he said, “You’re in my heart, too. And I’d sure like it if you stuck around, El. I’d like to take it day by day with you.”
“Me too,” she said, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. “That’s why I’m moving in tonight. No point in renting a room from Remi if I’m never going to use it. And it’s going to take forever to make my parents’ old place livable.”
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—you’re a smart girl,” he said, obviously pleased with her announcement. “Now get in the shower. I need to be kissing you five minutes ago.”
“Yes, Mr. Dyer,” she said as she whisked the curtain aside.
“Now there’s something I wouldn’t mind being called every once in a while,” he said, his gaze darkening as he watched her step inside the hot spray. “Especially in that particular tone, from those particular lips.”
“Why don’t you join me in the shower, Mr. Dyer,” she said, playing up the sexy voice as she crooked her finger his way. “And I’ll show you all the things I can do with these lips.”
A second later he was beside her, scooping her into his arms and growling against her neck, making her giggle until his lips found hers and her giggles transformed to a happy sigh. The happy, blissed out kind of sigh a girl couldn’t fake, the kind of sigh she knew deep down was just asking for trouble.
Because, in Elodie’s experience, great happiness was usually accompanied by great sorrow and miracles like what she’d found with Ross came at a price.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ross
The bride was beautiful in a short lace dress and cowgirl boots, but Ross only had eyes for the woman by his side.
Instead of her usual braids, Elodie had twined her hair into one long coil that she’d pinned into a crown on top of her head. The hair alone made her look like a princess, but combined with a lavender chiffon dress that seemed to dance around her petite frame—even when she was standing still—she was positively…
“What’s that word?” Ross asked softly, leaning down to whisper into her ear.
“What word?” Elodie whispered back.
“The one that means magical, but it starts with a vowel.” Ross pulled her closer to his side, still finding it hard to believe she was real and not a creation of his overactive imagination. “I think it starts with an E.”
“Enchanting.” She grinned up at him, her smile dazzling him even more than it had a couple of days ago.
“That’s it,” Ross said, kissing her forehead. “You’re enchanting.”
“And you’re the sexiest man in here,” Elodie whispered, wrapping her arm affectionately around his waist. “Now hush, they’re starting.”
Ross turned to face the bar while Elodie pressed up on tiptoe to see the bride and groom over the shoulders of the taller people standing in front of them at the Blue Saloon.
Reece Hearst, Tulsi’s sister, and Grayson Parker had met at the saloon six weeks ago and had decided to be married on the barstools where they’d shared their first drink. Ross knew the bride’s parents hadn’t been thrilled that their daughter was getting married in a bar, but looking at Mr. and Mrs. Hearst now, you wouldn’t know it. They stood not far behind the bride and groom, both of them beaming, clearly overjoyed to have their long lost daughter back home and marrying a solid man like Grayson.
Tulsi and Clementine stood at the front of the small crowd. Ross couldn’t see either of them from his and Elodie’s position in the back, but he could hear Tulsi sobbing into her handkerchief. Tulsi was a wedding weeper from way back. She said she couldn’t help it, that the most beautiful things in life just always made her cry.
It hadn’t been something Ross had understood before—at least not in a visceral way—but now he did. Now, every time he looked down at Elodie, his heart began to ache and his throat threatened to close up. Something had changed between them this morning, something that made him feel even closer to her than he had before. It was more than gratitude that such a sweetly fierce person had his back. It was feeling so completely understood. It was realizing that Elodie saw him clearly—probably more clearly than anyone had before—and she loved him anyway.
She did love him. Neither of them had said the words straight out, but he could feel it in the way her fingers curled slowly through his and squeezed as Grayson and Reece promised to love and cherish each other until death did them part. It was as undeniable as the sun shining through the windows and the most precious gift he’d ever been given. Being loved by this beautiful girl, who seemed to have been made just for him, was a gift topped only by the gift of being able to love her in return.
He didn’t know how in the hell he’d gotten so lucky, but he meant to do whatever it took to make sure his luck held out. So when his best friend Mia crossed the room toward him after the ceremony, calling out—
“Ugly Ross, look at you! All dressed up and looking fine.”
—he didn’t hesitate to honor the promise he’d made to Elodie this morning.
“Hey, Mia,” he said, hand tightening around Elodie’s as he pulled Mia in for a quick hug. “I don’t want to upset you—especially considering you’re pregnant and all—but I was wondering if you would help me kill that name.”
Mia blinked up at him, confusion in her eyes as she swept her red curls from her face. “Kill what now?”
“Ugly Ross.” He felt his face flush but pushed on, knowing this was something he should have done twenty years ago. “I’d like to just be Ross from now on. If that’s okay.”
“Oh.” Mia’s lips parted and a stricken expression gradually replaced her confused one. “Oh my God, Ross. I’m so sorry. I never even thought… I mean, I should have, I guess, but I just assumed you were fine with it. I mean, you’re always so laid back.” She winced. “Jesus, I’m an awful person. I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Ross said with a laugh. “Especially not that sorry. I’m just ready to move on, that’s all. And I’d like to introduce you to Elodie, my girlfriend. She just moved back to Lonesome Point.”
Mia’s eyebrows shot up and her confused blink returned as she glanced over to where Elodie stood beside him. But she recovered quickly and a polite smile curved her lips. “Welcome Elodie. Now why does your name sound so familiar?”
“I went to Lonesome Point Elementary kindergarten through sixth grade,” Elodie said, smiling up at the taller woman. “But I was super quiet. I’m not surprised you don’t remember me.”
“Well, I’m still sorry for it,” Mia said. “We’ll just have to get to know each other better now that you’re back.”
A moment later, Tulsi appeared at Mia’s side, dabbing at her tear-streaked face. “Hey, Mia, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but can you come help me get the cake out of the fridge in back? Reece and Grayson have to
leave to catch their flight in half an hour, so we need to cut the cake first.”
“Got it,” Mia said, turning back to Ross as she followed Tulsi. “Catch up with me later, Ross. I want to chat some more, okay?”
“Okay,” Ross agreed, but something in his gut told him he would be better off avoiding that chat. Mia had a lot of strong opinions and she wasn’t very good at hiding them. Ross might not be the best at deciphering nonverbal cues, but he could tell when Mia had a bee in her bonnet and he had a pretty good idea the current bee had something to do with Elodie.
After the cake and ice cream were eaten, the bouquet and garter thrown, and the bride and groom sent on their way, Ross did his best to stay on the opposite side of the party from Mia and her husband, Sawyer. It wasn’t that hard. The party started off small but grew by the hour as lunchtime came and went and more well-wishers descended to join the festivities. By one o’clock, Ross had dropped his guard and wasn’t thinking beyond the next slow dance with Elodie, but he should have known better. Once she had her mind set on something, Mia was like a lion after a wounded buffalo—relentless and determined to pounce as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
Mere seconds after Elodie left to get in line for the ladies’ room, Mia appeared at his side, hands propped on her hips and a stern expression on her face.
“Okay, spill it,” Mia said. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” Ross asked, playing dumb. “Just enjoying the party. Kind of weird that the bride and groom aren’t here, but I’ll take a party any way I can get it.”
“You know what I mean,” Mia said, eyes narrowing. “You and Meg just broke up a few days ago, and you were devastated. I saw your face when she broke up with you. You were a wreck. And now, you’ve suddenly got a brand new girlfriend?”
Ross sighed, silently cursing himself for not escorting Elodie to the bathroom. “It’s not like that, Mia. Elodie and I were close back in school. It’s not a new thing. It’s more like we just…picked up where we left off.”
“Picked up where you left off.” Mia’s auburn brows drew closer together. “From when you were twelve? You realize how that sounds, right?”
“Well, when you say it like that it sounds crazy,” Ross said, setting his half empty soda on the table behind him. “But it’s not. Elodie and I ran into each other at the Armadillo Day thing and we just clicked, the way we did when we were kids. I know we’re moving fast, but things are so good I don’t see any reason to slow down.” He paused but couldn’t seem to keep the rest of his words inside him. He wanted to tell someone how he felt, even if it was someone who thought he was off his rocker. “I really like her, Mia, more than any girl I’ve ever dated. She’s…amazing.”
“Sweetie, that’s great,” Mia said, her tone insisting it was the opposite and that Ross was a candidate for the loony bin. “But it’s only been two days, and you were so upset about Meg. Do you think maybe this is a rebound thing? You know, projecting the feelings you had for Meg onto this new girl, when she really hasn’t done anything to deserve those feelings?” Mia lifted her palms defensively into the air. “Not that Elodie isn’t probably a perfectly wonderful person, but you know what I mean?”
“Yes, Mia.” Ross fought the anger rising inside of him, the way he always did. Because Ross Dyer didn’t let people see him angry or hurt or even too happy. He didn’t let people see much because it was the only way to make sure they never knew how much power they had over him and his stupid, soft heart. “I understand what you’re saying. Despite what you obviously think, I’m not a complete dimwit.”
Mia’s eyes widened. “Ross, honey, I’m not saying you’re a dimwit! Rebounding isn’t anything to be ashamed of, it’s just—”
“And I wouldn’t be ashamed, if that was what was happening,” Ross said. “But I know what I felt for Meg and I know what I feel for Elodie and they aren’t even in the same league.”
“Okay, forget I said anything,” Mia said, her eyes darting to something over his shoulder, but Ross was on a roll now and she wasn’t going to shut him up that easily. “You should probably—”
“Meg was a saltine cracker,” he said, spitting out the first thing that came to mind. “Elodie is an apricot scone with a dozen different, perfect, unexpected spices. Meg was an uncooked hot dog,” he continued, warming to his comparisons. “Elodie is a bone broth simmered for a hundred hours until it tastes like heaven. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”
“I get it,” Mia said, eyes meeting his in silent apology. “You love her.”
Ross’s breath rushed out and his anger melted away because just thinking about what he felt for Elodie made it impossible to stay angry. “Yeah. I haven’t told her yet, so don’t say anything, but…yeah. I do.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve found someone so special,” Mia said, her eyes shifting back over his shoulder again. “But you should probably go rescue her before Spencer makes her rethink her decision to move back to town. He used to pick on her in school, right? Am I remembering that correctly?”
Ross turned, a frown pulling at his face even before he saw Ross Spencer and one of his bigger, dumber friends from the firehouse blocking Elodie’s path across the crowded bar. The Blue Saloon had only opened up for regular customers an hour ago, and Spencer and his buddy couldn’t have been here more than a few minutes. But from the looks on their flushed faces and the way they were crowded into Elodie’s personal space, they must have started drinking somewhere else and decided to move the party to the saloon.
Where they clearly were looking to score. Spencer was leering down at Elodie with his lady-killer smile on his pretty-boy face. A grin that most women were too stupid to see thinly concealed the heart of a snake.
But Ross knew Elodie would see past the smirk to the creep inside. Now, he just had to get her away from Spencer before the asshole did anything to hurt or embarrass her. Spencer had always treated the women he dated poorly and the women smart enough to turn him down with flat-out contempt. Back in high school, he and his friends had written “fat lesbian whore” on a girl’s car in spray paint after she’d told Spencer she wasn’t interested in meeting him behind the bleachers after school. He’d done things like that and worse to several women Ross knew, but Spencer wasn’t going to add Elodie’s name to the list of people he’d bullied.
No one was going to treat Elodie badly, not while Ross had a breath left in his body.
CHAPTER SIX
Elodie
Elodie’s heart raced and her stomach threatened a second showing of the portobello mushroom sliders she’d had for lunch.
He didn’t know who she was. Even when she gave him her full name and waited for the light of recognition to flicker on in his lavender eyes, the windows stayed dark. He simply complimented her on her dress and continued on with his story, a hero’s tale about a fire he and his friend had put out last night.
Ross Spencer had helped make going to school an exercise in torture for the first twelve years of her life, but he didn’t even remember her name. And now, he was hitting on her.
It would be funny if the sight of him didn’t make her physically ill.
But when she looked into his perfectly proportioned face, with the flashing white teeth, exotic eyes, and cheekbones that would make a supermodel envious, she didn’t see an attractive man; she saw a monster who used his beauty as a weapon in his arsenal. The broad shoulders and powerful chest that strained the seams of his Lonesome Point Fire Department tee shirt didn’t impress her; they terrified her.
He was easily twice her size. She’d taken self-defense classes at the YMCA in high school—accompanying her friend, Jill, for moral support after a bunch of redneck jerks took objection to Jill kissing her girlfriend in public and beat her within an inch of her life—but Elodie wasn’t equipped to take on a man Spencer’s size.
And you won’t have to. Just tell him you’re not interested in a beer and walk away. You’re adults now. You aren’t in
sixth grade anymore.
But as she watched Spencer toss his dark blond hair from his forehead with a cocky jerk of his chin she’d seen a hundred times before, a part of her was still in sixth grade. Still scared and small and too tongue-tied and weak to fight back. She didn’t want to let him affect her this way, but when she looked into Spencer’s face, she heard all the ugly names he’d called her echoing in her head, remembered the way he’d been the first to notice that she wore the same stained jeans to school every day, and felt that old black hole of pain open in her chest and threaten to suck every ray of sunshine from her world.
When she was a child, she’d walked on eggshells to keep from making her mom and dad angry at home and gone to school with barely enough energy to get through the day. She hadn’t had the strength to stand up to Spencer and his friends. She’d barely had the strength to survive. Without her afternoons with Ross to look forward to, she wasn’t sure she would have made it through alive. He was the light in her long days of darkness.
And now he was crossing the room, his eyes glittering with determination, the way they had that afternoon years ago, when he’d shown her he thought she was worth fighting for.
But she wasn’t about to let him fight for her again. She was going to fight for herself, and make sure her sweet man stayed safe. She wouldn’t let anyone put Ross in danger, especially not herself.
“I’m sorry,” she said, cutting Spencer off in the middle of his story. “But I have to go. My boyfriend is ready to leave.”
Spencer’s smile hardened, but he didn’t move to let her pass by on the left and his friend blocked her way through the crowd on her right. “Why don’t you ask your boyfriend to join us?” he asked. “We can all have a few beers and you can decide who you’d rather go home with—him or me.”
Elodie cringed. The thought of going home with Spencer was so repugnant she had to fight the urge to gag.