by Brooks, Abby
Tessa pulled her chair back and Ellie jumped as the legs scraped against the wood floors. “You’re doing it?” Tess looked from Ellie to James, a broad grin making her face beautiful.
“Looks like it. And you are henceforth sworn to secrecy.”
Tess gave a quick thumbs up and then looked embarrassed and dropped her hands to her lap. “Cross my heart and hope to die,” she said, looking appalled as she said it. “Or something like that.”
James stood and staggered when his chair didn’t slide back as easily as he thought it would. “Whoa,” he murmured and clutched at the table. His gaze swam for a second and Ellie was afraid he was going to fall.
“How many drinks did you have tonight?” she asked.
“Enough.” James straightened and took a deep breath. “I’m good. It just hits extra hard after you’ve been sitting, you know?”
“I do know.” Ellie stood. “But I also know that if you can’t stand without wobbling, you’re too drunk to drive. I’m driving you home again.” She looked down to see Tessa looking confused.
“Again?” Tessa mouthed.
Ellie shook her head. “Tell you later,” she mouthed back. “You good to get yourself home?” she asked out loud.
“You know it.” Tessa smiled and slid her half full glass out of reach. “You?”
“Yep. One margarita can’t get me down.”
She led James out of the bar, glad he didn’t put up some big macho fight about letting her drive him home. The ride to his house was quiet, the flirty talkative James from the bar stolen by whatever thoughts trudged through his mind. Ellie tried not to think about the last time she’d driven him home. The way his lips had claimed hers. The way his hands had traced her body, leaving burning trails of contact in their wake.
When she pulled into his driveway, he undid his seatbelt and climbed out of the car without a problem, but just in case, she followed him up the front steps to his house. He didn’t even fumble with his keys. Not even a little bit. Just pulled them out of his pocket and slipped them into the lock.
“Ellie?” he asked as he turned the knob, pausing with the door only slightly open.
“Yes, James?” Her heart thundered in her chest and she pressed her hands into her thighs.
“Will you come in?” His eyes searched hers and that burnt part of his soul was back. “Please.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of need.
She only hesitated for a moment. How could she turn him down when he looked like that? How could she walk away when it was so clear that he needed her to stay?
“Sure.” She shrugged and he took her hand, pulled her inside the still dirty house and led her upstairs to his bedroom. Confusion and excitement tapped out a thunderous duet in her head. What the hell was happening? What was she doing? She couldn’t sleep with him. Shouldn’t sleep with him. That’d make the whole pretend relationship thing such a joke. It’d just make things extra messy.
Halfway up the stairs, she pulled her hand out of his. “James…” He paused but didn’t turn around. “I can’t…”
He held up a hand and turned his head over his shoulder so she could see his profile. “We don’t have to do anything. I just don’t want to be alone. Would you please stay with me?”
She didn’t respond and he didn’t wait for one. He took her hand and led her upstairs. Kicked off his shoes and threw back the covers before he curled up in a tight ball on the bed. She stared at him for a few seconds, lost, confused, half certain she’d just turn around and walk out the door before she kicked off her own shoes and climbed into bed with him. Instead, she curled her small body around his much larger one, wrapping an arm around him, giving him the comfort he needed.
He sighed, and tucked her arm beneath his and before long, his breathing deepened until finally, he fell asleep.
7
It took awhile, but Ellie finally fell asleep and woke just a few hours later when her phone started blaring in her purse near the door. For a second, she had no idea where she was, only that she was tucked safely into someone’s arms, warm and wonderful and in the middle of a fantastic dream. It wasn’t until James shifted and groaned that she remembered where she was and why she was there. Careful not to make too much extra noise, she slipped out of bed, silenced her phone and grabbed her shoes before she padded downstairs.
She didn’t have time to run home and shower before she had to go open Good Beginnings. She scribbled a note to James, telling him to meet her at the cafe when he woke up and felt decent enough to drive, and then hurried out the door. There was no way in hell she was showing up to work in the same clothes she had on yesterday. She would deal with a little extra rushing in order to avoid the questioning looks and the rumors that were sure to fly around town and multiply like frenzied rabbits if she showed up to the restaurant looking like she hadn’t gone home last night. By the time the story went through everyone and finally got back to her, people would believe she was pregnant twice over and sleeping with about half of Bliss.
She flew around her apartment, pulling on clothes and brushing her teeth while questions about what the hell she was doing with James darted around inside her head. She got ready quickly and left her apartment in a whirlwind of thoughts and activity. If this was going to work, if she was going to fake a relationship with him and make it all the way to December without getting attached and hurt when it was all over, she was going to have to lay some ground rules with him. It wasn’t her job to mend his broken heart and it wasn’t fair of him to ask her.
She had to be strong enough to withstand the hurt in his eyes. Strong enough to say no when he asked her to stay. Strong enough to keep her lips away from his. She couldn’t let another man use her to prop himself up. No more parasites.
Ben was waiting for her at the front door to Good Beginnings when she arrived, cupping his hands to the glass and peering into the darkened interior.
“Sorry,” she said as she juggled her keys in her hand. “Running late today.”
Ben jumped and bumped his forehead on the door. “Whoa,” he said, rubbing a hand up into his sandy hair. “Scared me.”
Ellie laughed. “I see that.” She waited for Ben to move to the side and she unlocked the door. “Sorry again.”
They lost themselves in a flurry of work, trying to get the place ready to open in time. And then, as if the entire town felt bad about not coming yesterday, they were absolutely slammed from the moment she flipped the sign in the door until just after noon. She didn’t even have a moment to think about James and that was perfectly fine with her. She lost herself in chatting with customers and filling orders. With stocking the counter and checking inventory. These were the good days. The kind of days she—and her ever-dwindling checking account— needed.
Another surge of customers after lunch kept her busy until she flipped the closed sign over at three. As she walked around, wiping down tables and gathering bits of trash left by the customers, she finally started to wonder what the hell happened to James. Surely, he wasn’t still sleeping. And surely, he wasn’t going to stand her up. And if he did stand her up? Well, he had another thing coming to him. He might be used to people letting him get his way, but she wasn’t going to be one of those people. This was a partnership and her needs mattered just as much as his, regardless as to how much money she had. Or didn't have, as the case may be.
She gave up waiting for him as the hour hand crept past four o’clock. Ben had left just after three and Ellie had tackled some paperwork and then pretended to be busy for the last twenty minutes, killing time in case James showed up. And there goes another item in the con list, she thought to herself as she flicked off the lights in the office and kitchen, gathered her purse and headed towards the door as she dug for her keys. She looked up and jumped, startled to find James waiting at the door.
“Sorry,” he mouthed and pulled on the door. “Can I come in?”
She put her hands on her hips and stared at him. He had his bike helmet in one hand and
ran his hand through his hair with the other. Ellie watched the muscles in his chest and shoulder flex with the movement and tried not to let him see her actually shiver with delight.
She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Nope.”
James pouted and took a step forward. “Please?”
Ellie shook her head again and pushed open the door. “Nope,” she repeated and stepped outside. “But you can follow me home. We need to talk. If this is going to work, we’re gonna need some boundaries.”
“And you want to set boundaries by inviting me into your house?”
“You’re the one who got to sleep all day and take the time to shower before you left the house. Probably even had a leisurely breakfast. Maybe even a whole lunch. Me?” Ellie shook her head. “Not so much. I want to go home and kick my feet up. I also want to have a little discussion with you about our agreement. So, with that in mind, will you please follow me home so I can sit down before I fall down?”
James looked horrified. “Of course. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Lead on.”
She climbed into her car and waited for him to strap on his helmet and get the bike backed out of the space before she led him through Bliss on the short drive to her apartment. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him in the rearview mirror. His strong forearms gripping the handles of the bike, the tendons standing out like cords when he rolled back on the throttle. She watched him lean into the curves, swooping and dipping like the seabirds over the ocean. When she pulled into the lot of the one apartment complex in Bliss, he pulled his bike into the spot next to hers. The expensive Italian motorcycle looked more out of place among the rest of the vehicles in the lot than a tuxedo at McDonald's.
She led him up to her apartment and unlocked the front door, swinging it open and gesturing for him to enter. “Welcome to my humble abode. If you sit really quiet, you can even pretend you hear the ocean.”
He looked around, judgment written all over his face. The place was small. Clean, but small. Threadbare carpet. Peeling linoleum in the kitchen. And her furniture was old. And the living room doubled as the dining room and the entire thing would fit inside James’s bedroom.
“There’s not as much money in running a small business as you’d think,” she explained and pointed at the couch. “The American dream isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” Of course, that was only half the problem. Parasite Steve was the other half. She’d be way better off if she wasn’t busy paying off all the debt he had wracked up in her name.
She plopped down on the couch beside James and kicked off her shoes before propping her heels up on the coffee table and wiggling her toes. “I’d offer you a drink,” she said, but that’s kind of what I want to talk to you about.”
James’s eyebrows pursed together and he looked at her through narrowed eyes. “Come again?”
Ellie sighed. “Here’s the thing. I’m adding a little clause to our agreement. I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend, but I want you to promise to cut back on the drinking.”
James made a face. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“If we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, it really is my business.”
About fifteen different emotions paraded across James’s face before he decided to go with insulted. “You don’t get to tell me how to live.” He propped his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands, looking through them to the floor. “And the drinking?” He shook his head. “Cutting back is not an option. Not now.”
“Well, then, we have a little problem.” Ellie sighed and took her feet off the coffee table. Scooted forward and mimicked his posture. “Because I can’t keep driving your drunk ass home and pouring you into bed at night. I work, James. Every morning.”
He looked at her through the sides of his eyes without really turning his head. “Why don’t you hire someone to help on the weekends or something?”
Ellie flared her hands and made an exasperated face as she looked around the small apartment. “Because as tiny as this place is, I’d like to afford to keep it.”
James sat back and took a long breath and let it slowly through his nose, eyes trained on Ellie. “Fine. I’ll cut back on the drinking. But only on nights we’re together.”
Ellie considered pushing him to cut back altogether. Like, all the way back until he didn’t drink at all anymore, because she was afraid he was in a deep spiral that would send him into bad places. But she didn’t. Not yet. He was right, she didn’t have a right to ask that of him.
“I think I can make peace with that, as long as you promise to at least think about cutting back more. I’m a little worried about you.” And there went her mouth, acting on its own volition again.
James bounced his head in some kind of subconscious agreement and ran a thumb over one of his bruised knuckles. “Can’t promise anything,” he muttered. “But I’ll take it under advisement.”
Ellie took his hand, and ran a finger over his rough and discolored knuckles. “What’s this about?”
“You ever been cheated on?” His voice was raw and scraped against her heart.
His question surprised her. “No.”
“It’s the worst kind of betrayal. It hurts and you’re mad, and it’s like you’ve been turned inside out for the whole world to see your inadequacies.” James turned to meet Ellie’s eye and she grew intensely aware of the warmth of his hand in hers. The proximity of his mouth to hers. “I started fighting so I could get all the hate out of my body without hurting anyone but me.” James watched Ellie’s mouth as he spoke and finished by darting his tongue out to wet his lips.
“Are you still angry?”
“Not as much as I was.”
“But some?”
James nodded. “Some.”
He met her eyes with a look that set her on fire, all hooded lids and sultry eyelashes. Her lips parted and her breath caught and James leaned in. She tilted her head, eyes closing, and breathed him in.
And then she let her breath out in a rush and sat back, dropping his hand like it burned her.
“Sorry,” she said and licked her lips. “I got carried away.”
James straightened and blew a fast breath out between parted lips. “Nope. Not your fault.”
Ellie cleared her throat and slapped her hands onto her thighs. “So. When do you want to start this thing? When’s our first public appearance?”
“What are you doing Saturday afternoon?”
“Working.”
“Damn. How long?”
“Good Beginnings closes at three, but I usually hang around until four, doing paperwork and cleaning the place up, getting things ready for the next day.”
James hit her with a smile that made her think she wasn’t going to like what he said next. “How about…” He held up his hands. “Now hear me out here.” Now she was certain she wasn’t going to like what he said. “What if you let one of your cooks close the place up? I could pick you up at two. Shrimp Fest starts down at the beach tomorrow. I want to tote you around and show you off all day, let everyone see that I’m so taken with you that I spend hours with you at a time.”
Ellie’s heart fluttered at his words even though he wasn’t talking about how he really felt, just how he wanted people to think he felt. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can ask my Saturday guy to take orders and cook them, too.” Plus, she really didn’t want to owe Ben any favors. “And then, even if I could figure out how to make it work, I’d have to come back later that night to finish up paperwork and prep for Sunday morning.”
James bit his tongue and thought for a minute. “Okay, then. You should close early.” He arched an eyebrow at her and continued. “You know everyone’s going to be at the beach eating seafood and drinking beer instead of coming to Good Beginnings for coffee and muffins. Close an hour early, put up signs today so everyone knows ahead of time. And then, we’ll come back to Good Beginnings after we’re done at Shrimp Fest and I’ll help you get set up for Sunday morning.”
> Ellie wanted nothing more than to give in, but responsibility wore heavily on her heart. As did the upcoming electric bill and her dwindling bank account. How could she justify closing early, losing an hour of possible income, just to go play with a guy who had never known what it meant to need anything in his whole entire life? She opened her mouth to turn him down and said just the opposite of what she intended to say.
“Fine. It’s a deal. I’ll close early but you have to remember that you promised to come back and help me get ready for Sunday,” she said as she stood up and wandered towards the door, giving him the hint that this little meeting had come to an end. He took the hint and followed.
James leaned on the door and held up his pinky finger, smiling wickedly. “Scout’s honor.”
It took her a minute to figure out what the hell he was doing, but then she remembered that she’d done the same thing last week and he’d made fun of her for it. “Hey!” She smiled and slapped at his hand, intending to tease him for teasing her but James caught her by the wrist, the movement quick and reflexive. He used her arm to pull her close, his fingers a vice grip on her forearm, his free hand snaking up into her hair and cupping the back of her head. Her lips parted with a quick intake of breath and his mouth was there, his tongue tracing her bottom lip and darting in to meet hers.
Logic demanded she resist, but there was nothing logical about the way her lower muscles clenched, nothing logical about the dampness pooling between her legs. There was nothing logical in the need she felt for him, in the way she moaned into his mouth when he curled his fingers into her hair and pulled back, exposing her neck and kissing and licking his way down her throat. Logic didn’t live in her heaving chest or her closed eyes. Her head falling back to offer more skin for him to taste. Logic didn’t live in the thrill she got from his hand clamped around her wrist and the bulge in his pants that pressed against her belly. Oh no, there was nothing logical about any of it.