Elliott Redeemed

by Scarlett Cole

  The buzzer for the gate sounded. Food delivery. He kissed the top of her head, then cursed himself for revealing his real feelings even though Kendalee didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it seemed to wake her. Yeah, he was going to do everything he could to help this exhausted woman rest. Her face had softened, and her lips, the most perfect shade of pink, were slightly pouted. Unable to resist, he brushed his lips across hers. Not long enough to be considered totally inappropriate, but definitely a millisecond longer than just friends. They were just as soft as he’d imagined, and definitely addictive. He already wanted more, and he cursed himself. This wasn’t what she needed right now.

  “Food’s here,” he said, with forced cheeriness. “Can you get plates and things set up while I go grab it? Plates are in there.” He pointed to the cupboard to the right of the extractor fan. “Cutlery is in the top drawer there.”

  Kendalee looked at him, those eyes of hers wide, tempting him . . . no, daring him to kiss her again, but eventually she nodded.

  By the time he’d paid for the food, she’d not only set the breakfast bar with everything they needed, including folded squares of paper towels instead of napkins, but she’d also woken up—and, unfortunately, withdrawn from him a little.

  “I have an idea,” he said, once they’d both grabbed large servings of all the delicious food from his favorite Italian place and he’d opened a bottle of white wine.

  The smell of garlic filled the air as Kendalee cut the cheesy garlic bread. “What’s that?” she asked, handing him a piece before she sucked on the tip of her fingers.

  If only she knew just how much he wanted to take her hand and do that for her, take each fingertip in turn and suck it deep into his mouth before releasing it. Instead, he focused on his gnocchi while savoring the way Kendalee shoveled a huge amount of tagliatelle carbonara into her mouth. She realized immediately it was too big of a mouthful and grabbed the napkin to cover her mouth while she chewed.

  “I want to help you, Kendalee. Let me help you and Daniel find your feet.”

  Kendalee finished her mouthful. “Thank you, Elliott. But this is enough. Being Daniel’s friend is enough. Before you went to visit him, he was barely saying a word. Now he’s even opening up a little.”

  “Seeing Daniel when I can is a given. This isn’t about that. This is about you having somewhere to live. A shower with your own towels, a green scarf you get to wear.” He placed his hand on her arm. “Let me help, please.”

  Kendalee shook her head. “Thank you, Elliott. But I honestly can’t accept. It would be wrong to rely on your charity, especially when Adrian has the funds to help me find my feet. I’m going to need to see a lawyer to make sure Daniel can be looked after. Adrian’s being an asshole because Daniel doesn’t want to see him, but he needs to realize he is the adult.”

  Every now and then, she gave him a glimpse of her real feelings about the situation, but he loved her pragmatism I - can - take - care - of - this attitude, even if it was misplaced. If she wouldn’t accept his money, then he would offer something else.

  “You said you were living at your friend’s place. Where is that?”

  “Rachel is over in The Junction, but I don’t stay there. Maybe once a week I go to do laundry and stuff. And I only leave the hospital after Daniel is asleep.”

  That was a solid thirty-minute drive in from the west, no matter whether she cut through the city or took the Gardiner. His house was maybe ten minutes by car. Hell, she could walk to the hospital in a half hour, and to the grocery store she worked at in even less time. “When we moved in here, we had the upstairs split into five apartments and a guest suite over the recording studio.” It was way too early to explain why, so he skipped over their reasons and hoped she didn’t ask. He had a feeling lying to her would be impossible. “There are only two of us living here now. You’d be minutes away from the hospital.”

  Her eyes flashed with a glimmer of hope for a moment, then it died just as quickly. She took his hand and squeezed it tightly. “I can’t, Elliott. I’m already asking enough from you. And you barely know me. Honestly, I’ll figure this out. I’m okay. I have somewhere to sleep for now, and I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was complaining about—”

  “I know you aren’t fucking complaining,” he growled. “Goddammit, woman, it was hard enough to convince you to let me buy you Italian.” He spun her stool until she faced him properly and took her face in his hands. “I’m going to help you whether you like it or not, and you’d better find a way to accept it, soon. I’m going to hate going around you, Lee. So work with me, please.”

  * * *

  “Hey, Fiona, it’s Kendalee. How is Daniel doing?”

  She looked around the large bachelor suite that Elliott had shown her after they’d finished their food. If his plan had been to wear her down by showing her how she could be living if she let him help, then it was certainly working. For a few moments while eating dinner, she’d forgotten about everything that was piling up around her. But when those memories had come flooding back in, they’d been unbearable.

  “He’s good, Kendalee. Settled down fine. Are you heading in?”

  “I’m . . .” What? Taking a break from my own kid? This was such a stupid idea.

  “If you are about to tell me that you are sleeping in a bed tonight, in a house instead of a hospital room, I’m going to say Hallelujah.”

  Her words caught Kendalee off guard. “What?”

  Fiona laughed. “I’ve seen you do everything for that boy every day for the last two weeks while also working your job to keep your head above water. And I know firsthand how uncomfortable those beds can be. I’ve got your son. I promise. Get some sleep. And come back tomorrow refreshed and ready to fight for him another day.”

  If only it were that simple. “But what if he wakes up in the night? What if he needs me?”

  Kendalee heard several clicks of a keyboard. “Recognize this number?” Fiona asked, and proceeded to read Kendalee’s cell phone number back to her.

  She had to laugh or she might just go crazy. “Yes.”

  “Well, I’ll use it if anything happens. And I’ll write a note on his board to say you’ll be back tomorrow, and that if he needs you, to just phone you. Now stop talking to me and get some sleep, my love, instead of wasting those precious moments you could be spending snuggled under a comforter.”

  “Thank you, Fiona. Seriously. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you guys.” She meant every word, and tears pricked the corner of her eyes. She’d never be able to thank the staff at SickKids enough for their dedication.

  She placed her cell phone down on the side table and plugged it in. These days she never went anywhere without her phone and a means to keep its battery life full. The idea of Daniel possibly needing her while she was at work terrified her.

  The pillows were deliciously soft, and it was tempting to just fall back into them. But the master bath called to her, as did the thick towels she could see, and that soft robe. It sat on the bed next to the laptop that Elliott had produced when she’d asked if there was a way for her to check the internet on something that wouldn’t give her eye strain like her phone did.

  She wandered into the bathroom and shucked her clothes before pulling on the robe and wandering down to the laundry room Elliott had shown her earlier. She picked a quick wash cycle and threw everything in so she didn’t wouldn’t have to stay awake too long to put them in the dryer, and then hurried back to the room to avoid any unexpected run-ins with Elliott or his roommate.

  The moment she stepped into the large glass-walled shower, her muscles groaned in relief. The feeling of hot water pounding down on her body was what composers wrote symphonies about. She didn’t even care that she had to use whatever manly shampoo and conditioner were in there. It was relaxing, and steamy, and long, and unhurried, and a thousand other beautiful descriptors. Who would have thought that water pressure was something you could miss?

  Of everything she did miss, things
—all the stuff she’d clung to for years—were low on the list, with only a few exceptions. The name-three-things-you’d-save-in-a-fire question was no longer abstract. It had weight now. Magnitude. When she’d still had everything, it had been impossible to answer. But now, coming from a place of having almost no possessions, it was simple. Had it been possible, she would have rescued Daniel before he got hurt. That would always be her number-one regret. The second was all the photographs from before everything went digital, like their wedding album and her baby photographs. The third was her grandmother’s engagement ring that she’d planned to give to Daniel one day. It had an old-fashioned setting but a beautiful stone, and she’d hoped that he would be able to have it reset and melt down the gold to form a new band.

  She rinsed off and stood under the spray until her fingers looked like prunes. She wrapped a towel around her hair and another around her body and then, rather indulgently, used a third to dry off her limbs. When she turned to the sink to brush her teeth with the new toothbrush that she’d found waiting next to the towels on the counter, she realized she couldn’t even see herself in the mirror through all the steam. It was a wonder she hadn’t set off a smoke alarm.

  Ten minutes later, wrapped in a dressing gown that was about four times bigger than she needed and with her hair in a towel on the top of her head, she checked out her Pinterest board on Elliott’s laptop. It was a relief not to have to squint at tiny images on her phone, plus her boards looked better when she could see the whole of each of them and get the full effect of the color coordination and balance. It was only a little after eleven thirty, but she was exhausted.

  A knock came at the door, its urgency making her jump.

  “Come in,” she said.

  Elliott stepped into the room. “Thought you might be thirsty,” he said, handing her a bottle of water. He was shirtless. Dressed only in shorts that hung low on his waist and sneakers. And with that light sheen across his chest, it looked as though he’d been working out.

  It was the closest she had ever been to such an attractive body. He even had those V-things she’d only seen in Matthew McConaughey and Channing Tatum movies. The sight lit her up inside like the fireworks over the harbor on Canada Day. Taking in his upper body inch by inch, she noticed something else besides gorgeous abs. Marks that looked like small burns dotted his waistline.

  He gripped the ends of the towel that hung around his neck, making his biceps look even larger than she remembered. Thoughts of waking up wrapped in them turned her on, and she endeavored to focus on his tattoos as a distraction. They covered both arms, and he had a quote across his chest, though she couldn’t quite make it out because of the towel.

  As she tried to crack the lid of the water bottle open, the dressing gown slipped off her shoulder. She moved to grab it, but Elliott reached forward and stopped her hand, his eyes focused on the exposed skin. Her heart stopped beating when he placed his finger on her collarbone, then slid it slowly along her shoulder.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Kendalee Walker,” he said gruffly before stealing his hand away.

  She wanted to reach for him, to put his hand back where she wanted it. Inside her dressing gown where he could palm her breast, or do something . . . anything to quench the need building between her thighs.

  He reached for the water, cracked the lid, and handed it back to her. “Good night, Kendalee.”

  She nodded, unable to form a meaningful sentence.

  Elliott got as far as the door. “Goddammit,” he said as he spun and marched back to her. Before she could process what was happening, he took the water from her, placed it on the bedside table, and slid his hands on either side of her face. “You have three seconds to push my hands out of the way, sweet Lee. You don’t, and I’m taking those lips of yours.”

  Thoughts rushed her head like a raging wave. She was still married. Daniel needed Elliott’s help. But like the tide, the longer she stared into Elliott’s eyes, the faster all the reasons receded. Leaving nothing but need.

  She placed her hands on his face and groaned when his lips met hers.

  * * *

  Kissing Kendalee was just like the moment a song came together.

  The lyrics and the instruments and the pace and the rhythm all had to collide to create a song that could touch people. Touch them at such a profound level that they’d never be the same after hearing it. Words that would resonate, lines that would stick with them for days. A tune capable of altering a mood from one of despair to one of hope. It was crystal clear early in the composition process whether a song was simply going to be a decent one or was going to be nothing short of incredible. On that rare occasion that it all worked, it was like fucking magic pouring out of them.

  Which exactly defined this moment between him and Kendalee. He’d never kissed a woman and not liked it . . . but this.

  It was pure, fucking unicorn dust.

  He couldn’t look away from her. Not as those wide eyes of hers focused on him and her pupils went wide in surprise. Not for a single minute as he slid his hands along her skin, felt the tenseness she carried all the time in her shoulders. As he worked his way down her ribs and around her slender waist, her mouth opened against his. Kendalee’s eyes fluttered shut, and he knew he was sunk. His heart listed when the pads of her fingers dug into his skin, and again when she groaned sweetly against him. It may have actually stopped for good when she pressed herself closer to him, even though he was covered in sweat from his workout, one he’d done because he’d been desperate to escape his thoughts of her. Clearly, it hadn’t worked.

  When her tongue moved against his, it was his turn to groan. Tentative and curious, he let her lead.

  The urge to nudge the too-large dressing gown off her shoulder was strong, but doing so would make him an ass. Instead, he was going to savor her for as long as she’d let him. It was the most perfect moment he’d experienced with a woman.

  Kendalee slid her hands to his biceps and squeezed them gently. Her lips left his, and he felt the absence immediately. “Elliott,” she said, her voice all breathy like she’d just run up a flight of stairs.

  No. He didn’t want to stop yet. It wasn’t enough . . . yet it was . . . perfect.

  “Elliott, please.”

  Reluctantly, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “I know. Just give me a second.”

  Thankfully, she didn’t pull away from him physically. He could still feel her curves pressed up against him and her hands were still on his arms, gripping them as if she didn’t want to let go.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Her lips were deep pink and a touch swollen, and he had the urge to take them again. But if there was one word he understood, it was consent. His had been taken away too many times to negate somebody else’s, even if he was confident that something was happening between them.

  “We let that go way too far,” Kendalee continued.

  No. There was no way he was going to let her go regretting what had just happened between the two of them.

  “Don’t say that,” he said, gruffly. “That wasn’t an accident, it’s been building since the day you told me you wanted to dance naked in the rain.”

  She pulled out of his arms. “I can’t do this with you, Elliott. It’s not fair to any of us.”

  He crossed his arms to stop himself from doing something foolish . . . like holding her close and seducing her until he could take all fucking night to prove just how fair he could be. “We’re grown consenting adults, right?” he said.

  Kendalee laughed, sadly. “Of course we are.”

  “Then there is nothing wrong with this.” He gestured between the two of them.

  “But there are too many hurdles. This is horrific timing, Elliott. Surely you see that.”

  He did. He got it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. Neither did his dick, which was standing proud in his shorts just waiting for an opportunity to show her that timing had nothing to do with it. In
stead, he reached for her and pulled her closer. “I know. But that reason didn’t, and doesn’t, make me want to kiss you again any less.”

  Her cheeks pinkened at his comment. “That’s very flattering of you,” she said looking up into his eyes. “But I am technically still married, and I don’t know what your views are on religion, but I take those vows seriously, even if my husband doesn’t.”

  Shit. He’d forgotten all about Adrian. “How long have the two of you been separated?”

  Kendalee pulled out his arms. “Technically, he left the house six months ago. But our marriage has been over for at least two years, or at least that’s how long he’s been seeing the woman he left me for. I don’t know if there were others.” She wandered over to the window and looked at the sky, which was slowly turning an almost teal blue.

  He processed what she’d said, and how she’d said it. She was lonely, and it cut him up inside that she’d been that way for a while. Suddenly it seemed imperative to bring her spark back. “When’s the last time you went out on a date, Kendalee?”

  “Listen, Elliott, I appreciate what you are trying to do,” she said with her back to him. “But I’m a decade older than you. I have a very sick child who needs all my attention. I have no home and only a part-time job that enables me to keep this together.”

  So, she was ten years older than him—not that he gave a shit. She was no less attractive to him. He wondered how long it had been since someone had shown her physically just how incredible she was. The idea of reminding her had his dick standing at attention as he pictured all the ways the two of them could make love. “When did you last have sex?”

  She spun to face him, her mouth open, shock radiating from her eyes. “What? Why would you even ask that?”

  Shit. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “I’m, sorry, Kendalee . . . I was just—”