by Laura Drewry
“Yeah, so?”
Waving his finger between Carter and Nick, Brett started to direct his question at Nick, then turned back to Carter.
“I’m sorry, have you not met Ellie? About yay high, brown hair, brown eyes…friend of Regan’s. She’s the one who used to call Nick ‘Dumbass,’ and I’m pretty sure she’s the one who tried to convince Regan that you were going to be the biggest mistake she’d ever make. Ringing any bells yet?”
“Wow, Hale,” Carter laughed. “Who knew that getting all horned up turned you into such a prick? I like it!”
“I’m not—” Brett stopped, took a long swig of his beer, and slammed it back down. “Just forget it. It is what it is.”
There was no way either one of them was going to do that—not now.
“This is the most simple thing in the world, man.” Carter pointed his beer at Brett’s chest and nodded. “I told you before; you just need to go kiss her.”
Nick choked on a swallow and pulled his bottle down so fast that beer bubbled over the top and down the sides. “Don’t do that!”
“Why not? You did it with Jayne.” A knowing smile spread over Carter’s face. “And it worked like a hot damn with Red.”
Still coughing, Nick shook his head until he could finally speak again. “I didn’t just walk up and kiss Jayne out of the blue. I didn’t even mean to do it that first time, but then she finally let me hug her, and, well…”
“And then you kissed her,” Carter laughed. “I’m telling you, man, just do it. Just walk up to Ellie and do it.”
“No way,” Nick warned. “It’s not the same as what happened between Jayne and me or him and Regan.”
“It’s always the same,” Carter snorted. “Someone just has to have the balls to make a move. So grow a pair and go make a move! She did it to you—even if it was just for show!”
Brett was on the verge of nodding until Nick’s words sank in.
“Nick’s right,” he muttered. “It’s not the same.”
“That’s just your inner wuss talking.”
“No, it’s not. I’ll be gone in three days.”
“So what? Think of all the things you can do with her in those three days. And those three nights. At least give her the option of saying no.”
“Okay.” Nick nodded. “That I agree with. You have to at least call her back.”
He would. He would. It was just that she’d left him a couple of messages and he’d been trying to figure out what to say before he called her back. But it was two days later now, and with every passing minute, it got harder and harder to come up with something.
Chapter 17
“If you repeat a lie often enough, it becomes the truth.”
—Sheriff Walt Longmire, Longmire
By the time the four of them were halfway through their first drinks at Chalker’s on Tuesday night, Ellie had told them the truth about Brett and how it had all been an act.
Her stomach had knotted itself so tight, at a couple points she actually had to bend over and force herself to breathe, especially when she told them about the weekend in the hotel with him.
They were her best friends; she wasn’t going to give them half-truths now. If she was going to come clean, she was going to come squeaky clean.
“I’m so so sorry,” she said. “I hated lying to you guys, but—”
“Seriously?” It was Regan who snorted, but the other two were grinning. “Do you even hear yourself?”
“Yes, and I’m trying to apologize.”
“You don’t need to apologize to us, Ellie—does she, guys?” Jayne and Maya seemed to have been practicing synchronized head shaking. “Think about what you’ve told us.”
“God, Regan, it’s all I’ve thought about this whole time: how I was ever going to explain this and what I could possibly do to earn back your trust. I lied to you.”
“To me?” Regan laughed. “Uh, no. Jayne? Maya?”
Again with the synchronized head shaking.
“The only person you’ve been lying to is yourself, Ellie. I mean, look at you! You’re obviously in love with the guy, and that’s what you’ve been trying to make us believe, so where’s the lie? I say you get off that stool right now and go get him. Just walk right up to him and plant a big old wet kiss on him. See what happens then.”
“Okay,” Jayne laughed. “I think we can all agree that’s Carter’s influence talking there, but she’s not wrong, Ellie. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Oh, I don’t know—he could leave me standing there like he did the last time.”
“That was different. If he’d done anything with you then, you’d both be up the creek without a paddle.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But I’ve—I’ve left messages, and I even rode my bike past his condo to see if he was there. Not gonna lie: I’m sort of starting to feel like I’m the stalker now. If he wants to talk to me, he knows where to find me. If he doesn’t, then…he doesn’t.”
Maya finally stopped shaking her head long enough to add her two cents. “And why haven’t you dropped the L-word on him yet?”
“Because.” Apparently that wasn’t a good enough answer, and the three of them just kept staring at her until she finally sighed. “Because if I don’t say it out loud, then I can pretend it’s not true, right?”
“Uh…no,” Regan chuckled. “You can try—I mean, hell, we all try it at some point—but it doesn’t usually help.”
“But if I tell him, then there’s all that pressure on him to say it back, and what if he doesn’t want to?” She stared down into her glass, swirling the wine slowly. “You should’ve seen him at my house; he was so mad when I came out of the bathroom. And I get it, I understand he was scared, but it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park for me, either, when I was halfway through my shower and suddenly my alarm’s screaming the house down. Scared the crap out of me!”
This time it was three heads in synchronized shaking. No answers, no ideas, no nothing until Regan snorted really loud over a laugh, almost like she’d been holding it in so long it just wouldn’t be contained another second.
“Sorry, Ellie, I just can’t believe my ass you haven’t had sex with him yet. I mean, come on—it’s no wonder he’s so pissed!”
—
The night before Brett was due to leave, Jayne invited everyone over to the house for a barbecue, including the whole ball team and every available cop on the force, but it took a whole lot of convincing before Ellie agreed to go. It wasn’t anything deep or profound that finally persuaded her; it was the mere fact that she wanted to see him one more time, and if this was the only way she could make that happen, then this was how it would have to be.
He’d made the choice to walk away, and though part of her was livid, she couldn’t blame him. The gash in her heart ran deep and long, but maybe it was better to end it like that: quick and sharp.
Maybe.
From the second she arrived at Jayne’s, Ellie adopted the same routine she always had before and tried to stay as far away from Brett as possible—something that proved fairly easy, since he was continually surrounded by people out in the backyard. The only difference this time was that she let herself watch him: the way he moved, the way he tried to smile at everyone he spoke to, and the way his eyes stormed over every time they locked onto hers.
The last time that happened, he started toward her, his long strides making short work of the huge yard, but only made it halfway before Sergeant Schilling intercepted him. Just as well, because the closer he got, the louder her heart begged her to move, to save it from the torment that being near him brought.
Jayne, Regan, and Maya knew it was killing her, but no one else would have guessed, not with the way she held it all together so beautifully.
Even in those moments when it wasn’t going so smoothly, she simply found something to do. Ice needed to be refilled? She was on it. More napkins? Done. Salad required tossing? Got it. Duke needed a little love over there on his giant dog pi
llow by the fireplace? Absolutely.
And when everyone finally had full plates outside, she pulled the ace out of her sleeve.
“There’s something under my lens,” she said. “I’ll be back in a second.”
It wasn’t a lie; she did have something under her lens. Tears. Lots of them. And they weren’t stopping. Shit. She couldn’t go out there looking like this—makeup all over the place, cheeks all puffy and blotchy. God, her eyes were so red it looked like she’d been smoking weed all week, and in a house full of cops, that wasn’t going to go over well at all. But if she didn’t get back out there soon, they’d all know something was wrong, and she wasn’t going to make this about her.
Tonight was about Brett and giving him a happy send-off.
Without her purse, she didn’t have much to work with, but at least she was able to clean the dark rivers of mascara off her face and ease a little of the puffiness with some cold water. It wasn’t great, but it would have to do. Inhaling, she closed her eyes and opened the door. She could do this.
“Ell.”
With her breath frozen somewhere in the middle of her lungs, it took her a second to actually open her eyes, partly because she was afraid she’d imagined his voice, and partly because she was afraid she hadn’t.
She hadn’t. He was standing right there, leaning against the wall, his face so serious, his eyes so stormy.
“Oh, hey,” she managed. “Great dinner, eh? Jayne sure knows how to—”
“Don’t.” He pushed off the wall but didn’t come any closer. “I’ve got no explanation for why I didn’t call you back, other than I was feeling really useless and stupid and I still don’t know what I’m doing. I’m an asshole, and I’m sorry.”
Oh no, she wouldn’t smile. She wouldn’t. It would hurt too much.
Damn it.
“And if you’re half as smart as I think you are, you’ll tell me to piss off, but I’m really hoping you’ll give me a minute here.”
“Only one?” she said, forcing that damn smile as bright as she possibly could. “After everything you’ve done for me, Poncherello, I could probably be persuaded to give you two or three.”
Something flickered in his eyes, but it wasn’t a smile. That was okay, though, because she was smiling big enough for the both of them.
“I, uh, I don’t know what happened between us,” he said slowly. “It was easier when the case was going on because I could use that as an excuse to not think about it, but now I can’t stop thinking about it, and I don’t…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I only know what I want to do, and I can’t leave here tomorrow without you knowing the truth.”
“And what is the truth?” she asked, wishing she could force a little more strength into her voice. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”
Without a sound, he closed the distance between them, took her face in his hands, and kissed her, soft, tender, and slow until the only breath she could catch had his name on it. She curled her fingers around his neck and up into his short hair, loving the way he felt, loving the way she felt, and loving the way they felt together.
On a long, low growl, he took the kiss deeper, longer, until hunger built to an urgent, frantic frenzy. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get close enough to him, not even when he slipped his hand around her and eased her closer, tighter, until the full length of her was pressed against him.
There. Right there, that’s where she could spend the rest of her life: wrapped up in him, with the heat of his skin under her fingers, the taste of him on her lips, and the feel of him pressed against her so hard, as desperate for her as she was for him.
A monsoon of emotions crashed through her, from the tiny part of her brain that still seemed to be working, down to the tips of her toes in those ridiculously high green heels, and with it came another tear—surely the only one she had left.
She didn’t know how long they were there; all she knew was that it ended far too soon.
He hadn’t released her yet, just rested his forehead against her shoulder and breathed, ragged and harsh. There was no way Ellie was about to let go of him, not yet. Not when she could still touch him, not when he pressed a body-melting soft kiss against the sensitive spot on her neck, right near her collarbone, and no way was she letting him go when he pushed her up against the wall and groaned.
“Please don’t make me finish this here in Jayne’s hallway.”
Now was not the time to be giggling, but she couldn’t help it; it just kept bubbling out of her.
“Not funny, Ell,” he muttered, though even as he said it she could feel his lips curling against her neck. “I don’t even think I’m going to make it out to the truck.”
He did, but he made Ellie drive.
“I can’t believe we’re just going to leave. We should’ve at least said goodbye first.”
“Put it in drive, put your foot on the gas, and go. We’ll explain later.”
“Ha! I don’t think there’ll be much explanation needed.”
Brett’s place was closer, so that’s where they went. He’d dismantled his bed that morning and had shoved his mattress upright against the wall, apparently, Ellie figured, to get it out of the way.
“I’m all for new things,” she snickered even as he walked her back toward it. “But if you plan on kissing me again like you did at Jayne’s, there’s no way I’m going to have the strength to do this standing up.”
Like some kind of ninja, he twirled her to the side and hooked his foot under the edge of the mattress, sending it crashing to the floor.
“Damn, you’re good.”
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” And there it was. That smile, the dimple, the eyes so blue she could almost swim in them.
He slid both hands through her hair until his fists were filled; then he pulled her ever so gently toward him, toward that mouth…wow, that mouth…and kissed her even slower, even softer, and even longer than he had at Jayne’s, until her muscles quivered and threatened to collapse altogether.
Pulling back just a little, she let go of him long enough to lean over and grab one of her shoes, trying desperately to yank it off before she fell over and broke her ankle.
“What are you doing?” he asked, then: “No! Keep them on.”
“You want to try standing in them when you can’t even feel your kneecaps?” she laughed.
“Then don’t stand.”
With his hands on her hips, he lifted her straight up and pressed her against the wall, kissing his way down her neck while his hands skimmed over her butt, guiding her legs until they were wrapped around his waist, ankles crossed behind him and shoes still on.
“Nice trick,” she said, whispering a kiss against his earlobe. “But you might want to save your strength; it could be a long night.”
She slid her fingers under the hem of his shirt, smiling when he hissed against her touch, then squealing when he lifted his arms straight up so she could tug the shirt off. Standing like that, the only thing holding her up was the way his body pressed her back against the wall.
She danced her fingers across his chest, from one shoulder to the other, then down his arm to the tattoo she loved so much. The whole time he smoothed his hands over the sides of her legs, back to where her knees bent around him, and then around to her butt, where he slowed, lifting her a bit more, then easing her down.
She needed more: more of his kisses, smiling and hungry, and more of him pressed against more of her. And she needed it quick.
“Uh, Brett?” she breathed, squeezing her knees into his ribs.
“Hmm?”
“Now.” She nodded, squirming against him. “Now would be good.”
“Now?”
“Right now.” Unfolding her legs, she kicked off her shoes and grabbed him by the waistband of his jeans, her hands making short work of the button and fly while he fumbled with the buttons on her blouse.
Slapping his hands away, she unhooked her bra, tugged everything up and over her he
ad, and tossed it all to the side, but not before she caught the stunned look on Brett’s face.
“Come on, stay with me,” she laughed, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “I’m going to need you for a couple minutes here.”
He clamped his mouth closed, blinked, and then smiled again as he eased her jeans and thong down over her hips.
“Holy shit.” His groan started low and seemed to get deeper until it suddenly broke off. “Wait!”
Before she could argue, boxer-clad Brett disappeared down the hall, leaving her standing in the middle of the room in nothing but her earrings. No, that wasn’t awkward at all.
“Uh, Brett?”
“Hang on…”
“I can certainly start without you, but I sorta thought the idea was that we’d—”
“No no no!” he yelled, careening around the corner with a long strip of foil wrappers clutched in his hand. “Wait for me!”
A bubble of laughter tickled her throat as he screeched to a stop in front of her, ripped the top packet open, and threw the rest over his shoulder.
“Safety first.”
God, he was cute.
Ellie’s earlier boil had slowed to a steady simmer, but she almost came undone when he reached for her again.
“Lose the boxers,” she murmured against his mouth. “Deal with the safety issue, and meet me over there. I’ll be the naked one on the mattress.”
She was back in his arms before they both tumbled onto the soft cotton sheet. Lacing his fingers through hers, he pressed her hands back against the mattress and leaned in to kiss her with feather-light, slow agony.
When she tried to free her hands so she could pull him closer, he shifted both her wrists to his right hand and grinned down at her.
“Start without me? Is that what you said?”
“Well, come on,” she laughed, squirming harder. “You just left me standing there.”
“They were packed, okay? How was I supposed to know I was going to need them tonight?”
“I’m sorry! I just—”
His kiss stole the rest of her word, and this kiss wasn’t soft or feathery or slow. It was hot, hungry, and wild. He hadn’t touched her anywhere else and she was already on fire, desperate for relief, but he wouldn’t give it to her, not yet. His mouth was everywhere, scorching trails of kisses down her neck, across her shoulder, and over the swell of her breast, where the first brush of his lips ripped a cry from her throat that only made him smile more.