Blame It On Your Heart (Big Timber)

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Blame It On Your Heart (Big Timber) Page 26

by Jami Alden


  "Next time," Damon said, squeezing him tighter. He wondered fleetingly how long it would be before Ellie was back for a visit, back to torture him with her presence and visions of a future he would never have.

  When he rose, he saw that Ellie's eyes were even brighter. His own throat went tight as he reached out and pulled her into his arms. She was stiff at first, then her arms circled around his waist, her hands fisted against his back like maybe she was thinking about punching him.

  Or maybe to keep herself from clutching onto him for dear life. He shoved the foolishly optimistic thought aside and bent to brush her cheek with his lips. "Bye, Ellie. Good luck with everything."

  "Thanks," she said in a choked voice, stepped out of his embrace, and turned to walk away.

  The feel of her skin still tingled on his lips. He struggled to breathe, feeling like a horse had taken a seat on his chest as he watched her walk across the parking lot with Adele and Anthony.

  "You're really just going to let her leave like that?"

  Damon didn't turn at the sound of Brady's voice beside him. "She's made her decision," he forced the words past the stranglehold of grief. "How I feel doesn't factor in."

  "You sure about that?" Brady prodded. "Because from what I've seen, you've done a lot of dancing around each other, not being real clear on how you feel."

  "This really isn't any of your business," Damon ground out as he wheeled on his friend.

  Brady narrowed his eyes and took a sip of his beer. "All the years I've known you, you've never been one to run from a fight. When did you turn into such a pussy?"

  Damon's hands clenched into fists as he straightened to his full height. He felt a lick of anticipation as Brady's body language mirrored his own.

  Forget that his friend had nothing to do with how shitty he was feeling. All he could think was how good it would feel to punch something. Or someone.

  His hands lashed out and gave Brady a shove to the chest. A perfect match to him size wise, Brady didn't budge. "Fuck you," Damon spat out.

  "Fuck you back, coward. What are you so afraid of? What's the worst that can happen? She'll turn you down? Again?"

  Blood roared in his head as Damon surged forward, driving his shoulder into Brady's chest. This time Brady went sprawling, his arms locked around Damon's back as he dragged him down to the patio as he fell.

  They grappled, their grunts and swears echoing around them as they each struggled for the upper hand.

  Through it all, Brady never shut up. "You're really going to let the woman you never stopped loving walk out of your life?"

  "You don't know anything about it," Damon panted and landed a blow to Brady's stomach.

  Brady grunted and countered with a knee that landed hard in the meat of Damon's quad. "I know it ended ugly."

  He managed to get Brady in a headlock. "Yet you want me to go lay my ass on the line," he hissed. Just the memory of what happened last time was enough to make him momentarily light headed. His grip eased infinitesimally.

  It was all the opening Brady needed. He slid his forearm up inside Damon's and broke his grip. In his next breath he had Damon on his stomach. Knee firmly planted in Damon's back, Brady jerked his wrist up in an iron grip and braced his other arm behind Damon's elbow.

  Though he was pretty sure Brady wouldn't go so far as to break his arm, Damon tapped the ground to indicate he was done just in case. When his friend's weight lifted he turned and heaved himself to seated position, his breath sawing in and out of his chest. He heard Brady's footsteps against the flagstone as he headed over to the bar.

  "I can't go through that again," he said, shaking his head. The memory of that night when she'd turned down his proposal ripped through him, combining with one from tonight, of her turning and walking away.

  He felt like there was a black hole in the center of his chest, and any minute his entire being would collapse inside it.

  Brady reappeared at his side, a shot of bourbon in each hand. He handed one to Damon and tossed the other back. "You'll never know whether knowing how you feel might change her mind. If she rejects you, sure, that'll fucking suck. But the never knowing, wondering if it could have been different... that's the kind of shit that will eat away at you for the rest of your life."

  Damon drank his own shot. The burn did nothing to soothe the ache settling into his very bones. "What is this, fucking therapy hour? Since when is the guy who can't get past a one night stand the relationship expert?"

  "I'm not claiming to be any kind of relationship expert, but it's pretty hard to miss what's right in front of my face. You love her. She loves you back. I don't see why you're making it so complicated."

  Damon couldn't stifle the surge of hope that flowed through him at Brady's words. "Yeah? If that's true why is she leaving?" he said, wincing at how he sounded like a surly teenager.

  "Because she's as wrapped up in her own bullshit as you are, and neither of you can actually see the truth until it's spelled out for you. So go do it. Spell it out for her." Brady shook his head and leaned back against the bar. "Seriously, it's all about communication and having a real fucking conversation."

  Was it possible it was actually that simple? Damon wasn't sure he was sold. "So if you know so much about women and relationships, how come no one ever sticks around for more than a few days?"

  "Knowing what to do and wanting to do it are two very different things," Brady said with wry smile. "Besides, you know me. I'm too much about keeping my options open to settle down with just one."

  "You're different though," he continued, his tone now serious. "All the years I've known you, you try to act like a player, but you were always searching for the one. You want what your parents have, you want what Deck has. The second I saw you with Ellie, I understood why you never found anyone else. You two are supposed to be together, but the two of you seem to be the only ones who can't see it."

  "I don't know. What happened before—"

  "What happened before happened when you were eighteen," Brady snapped. "And Ellie was seventeen. You were both idiot kids whose brains hadn't fully formed yet. Now you're a fucking grown up. Why don't you start acting like it?"

  Chapter 17

  Two hours later, Damon was parked in front of Ellie's house. The houselights had been out for an hour, all except for the one in Ellie's room. For the last hour he'd watched her shadow cross back and forth across the sheer drapes as she moved around the room.

  Packing, no doubt.

  You two are supposed to be together.

  Brady's words echoed through his head, pounded in his blood. While he believed it with every fiber of his being, he couldn't seem to make himself get out of the car.

  Mingling with Brady's words was the memory of that night all those years ago. Yes, his friends, his family knew he'd been hurt, but they had no idea how deep it went. How broken he'd felt. How all the time he was training to be a badass special forces soldier, he was spending most nights with a pillow over his face so his bunk mates wouldn't know he was crying like a fucking girl.

  Then she'd moved to New York and married someone else. Someone who couldn't have been more different from Damon, someone who gave her a lifestyle almost beyond his comprehension.

  And led Damon to the inevitable conclusion was that if that was the kind of life Ellie really wanted, she never would have been happy staying with him in tiny little Big Timber.

  That doubt ate at him from the inside out, warring with Brady's command to "act like a fucking grown up."

  Right now, he didn't feel like a grown ass man. He felt like the devastated teenager he'd been, ripped apart by the rejection of the first girl he'd ever loved.

  The girl who turned out to be the only one he'd ever loved like that.

  Could he really put himself through that again?

  Could he live the rest of his life knowing that when it came down to one of the most important moments, the most important woman, he'd been too chicken shit to find out the truth? Even if i
t wasn't what he wanted to hear.

  He reached for the door handle, his mind made up. The first time he'd let her go, he'd been so hurt and angry he left without a word. He'd made sure she knew he considered the divide between them permanent.

  He'd been dying inside, hadn't had it in him to fight for her. And look where it had gotten him. Thirteen years later, still in love with Ellie. Again dying inside at the idea of losing her.

  He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

  Just as he went to open the door he saw the garage door of Adele's house start to go up. A few seconds later and Ellie's beat up Honda with its spanking new tires inched out onto the driveway.

  Damon pulled out to follow her, wondering where the hell she was going at this time of night when she was supposed to catch a plane the next day.

  His heart jumped in his chest when she turned left on Fourth Street, pointing her in the direction of his house. Could it be they both had the same idea?

  He watched as she continued down Fourth, then a left on McLeod. And then, he watched, his hands clenching around the steering wheel as she turned and took the dirt road just before Yellowstone Avenue.

  It led to only one place. The old girls’ school.

  He waited a few minutes to get his head together, trying to figure out what he was going to say as his stomach churned at the memory of what had happened the last time they were there.

  Maybe it was time to make some new memories.

  He turned up the road and drove the last two miles of gravel. A few hundred yards away he killed his lights and let the moonlight guide him the rest of the way.

  She was standing a little ways from her car, turned toward the view of the valley. The light of the nearly full moon and the blazing carpet of stars cast a silvery glow on her dark hair and pale skin.

  He climbed out of the car and shoved his shaking hands in his pockets as he stepped out onto the gravel.

  "Ellie?" he called softly.

  She jumped in surprise and turned around. "Damon?" Her hands wiped hastily at her face, but there was no mistaking the thickness of tears in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

  He walked toward her, shoving his hands in his pocket so she wouldn't see them shaking with nerves. "I was at your house. When I saw you leave, I decided to follow."

  She gave a mirthless laugh, her lips twisting in a parody of a grin. "Hoping for one last bang for old times’ sake?"

  "No," he said, moving until he was only a few feet away. He turned and looked out at the view spread out before him. A few flickering lights from the valley, the jut of the mountains, their granite tips illuminated by the moonlight. And stars upon stars, as far as the eye could see. He'd tried to convince himself it wasn't as beautiful up here as he'd remembered.

  He was wrong. It was even more beautiful.

  But he could barely appreciate the view in front of him. Not with Ellie so close. So close, yet right now she seemed as unreachable as all of those stars.

  "Still the most beautiful spot for a thousand miles," Damon murmured.

  "I haven't been here since..." Her voice trailed off. "I almost had myself convinced it wasn't as pretty as I remembered," she said, echoing his thoughts.

  "So why tonight?"

  "I don't know." She shook her head. "After I moved to New York, whenever I came home I never wanted to come up here."

  He could relate, he thought, but stayed silent.

  "But tonight, I felt like I needed to come up here. See it one last time. Say goodbye to... everything."

  That last word was said with a finality that filled him with dread.

  "So if you didn't want to fuck, why did you come to the house tonight? Why did you follow me here?"

  Inwardly he flinched at the word. It sounded so crude coming from her, too base to describe what they'd shared. Yet he'd been the one to use it to define their relationship. Use it because he was too much of a coward to own up to the truth.

  "I wanted to talk to you," he said simply. "I don't want you to take the job with the Dennisons. I don't want you to leave," he said, pushing the words out of his mouth before he lost the nerve to say them.

  She snapped around, her head cocked to the side. "Well, I don't think I have much choice, But thanks for the sentiment," she said and turned and started for her car.

  Damon reached out and grabbed her arm. She jerked out of his hold. "Do you mind? I have to get up really early tomorrow to make my flight."

  This was a disaster. The crunch of her shoes against the gravel echoed the panicked beating of his heart as he realized this wasn't going anything like he'd hoped. He chased after her and caught her by the wrist. "Ellie, wait, you can't go. Not yet—"

  "I can't go? Why?" she screamed as she swung around and tried to jerk out of his hold. "Because you decided? Because you changed your mind? Like you decided you had to join the army? Now you want me to change my life for you all over again?"

  He felt some of the blood drain from his head. Guilt churned in his stomach as he couldn't deny the truth of her words. He'd once accused her of being selfish, but he was the one who'd made a decision that had changed both of their lives. And now he was doing it again.

  He opened his mouth to explain, to apologize, but Ellie wasn't finished.

  "Or maybe you're having fun torturing me. Luring me in and then shoving me away, making sure I feel as bad as you did that night?"

  Is that what she really thought? Worse, was that what he'd been trying to do on some subconscious level all along?

  "Because I've been hurting every fucking day and night from the day you left Big Timber without so much as a word. Like I was less than nothing to you. I've suffered, okay? And this, this, push me pull me thing"— she waved her hand for emphasis—"you're doing is just rubbing a big handful of salt in a big gaping wound that never healed."

  She jerked out of his hold, but instead of heading to her car she crumpled to the ground. His own eyes burned as she wrapped her arms around her shins and buried her face against her knees as her shoulders heaved with sobs.

  In that moment Damon felt lower than dog shit scraped off someone's shoe. There had been a time when all he wanted from life was to make Ellie happy, to protect her from being hurt. That need had never left him, and ever since she'd come back to town it had been pushing its way to the forefront.

  And in his desperation to keep it under control, he'd hurt both of them.

  He sank down next to her, wincing at the way she stiffened when he slid his arms around her. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Ellie. That's the last thing I want to do."

  "Then you have to let me go." She lifted her head, and the stark grief on her face made his chest ache. "I can't stay here. I couldn't stay here before. If I stay now it will only be worse."

  His arms loosened. He waited for the earth to swallow him up, for something cataclysmic to happen so he wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath of having his worst fears confirmed.

  I couldn't stay here before. If I stay now it will only be worse.

  "So I was right. Once you saw the world beyond Big Timber, you realized you'd never be happy here with someone like me."

  ###

  "What are you talking about?” Ellie shook her head, struggling to process what Damon was saying. Between the gut wrenching decision to leave, her heartbreak over Damon, and now his eleventh hour plea for her to stay, she felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole.

  And now this.

  "I mean the fact that after graduation, you couldn't get out of here fast enough, and the idea of staying here is still unbearable."

  "Are you kidding me? How could I possibly stay after graduation? I couldn't leave fast enough because it was killing me here without you." She paused, realizing she was wandering into dangerous territory. Did she really want to spill her guts and let him realize just how vulnerable to him she still was?

  But the words kept coming. "Practically from the day my mom moved us back here, my life in
Big Timber revolved around you! Everything we planned, my future here, it was all about us. And then you left." Her voice cracked. "And you didn't even say goodbye. And I should have just called you or emailed you or something, but it hurt so much, and I was so angry that you could make such a huge decision without me, and then just leave." She sucked in a shuddering breath, hating that she was breaking down in front of him but unable to stop it.

  "I couldn't be here without you. All I could think to do was go someplace that was nothing like here, with people who were nothing like you." She paused and dug a tissue out of her pocket to dab her eyes and blow her nose. "Did you ever notice that Troy was pretty much the exact opposite of you?"

  "I thought that was because you realized what you wanted wasn't me."

  "You're so stupid," she said on a choked sob. "All I ever wanted was you. And I was stupid too because I lost you. The only smart move I made was in not trying to find another you. Because I knew that would be impossible."

  He stepped forward, his hands reaching out as if he was going to take her into his arms.

  "Don't," she said, holding her hands up. "Please don't." As much as she wanted to fall into him, lose herself in him, she had to make him understand. She had to make it clear that she couldn't play his games, couldn't live in this limbo of not knowing where she stood with him.

  Not when she loved him so much.

  "And how can you expect me to stay now? Being around you constantly, never knowing day to day if you're going to fuck me into oblivion or give me the cold shoulder. Always waiting for the day you tell me you met someone you want to get serious with. Having to watch you marry someone else..." Just saying it out loud sent a shaft of pain through her chest.

  "Maybe if it were just me, I'd go along with it. I'd let you break my heart over and over again." It didn't say much about her self-respect, but she was tired of lying to herself and to him. "But I have Anthony to think of, and he's already been through enough chaos. He deserves better than a mommy who lets herself self-destruct."

  Damon felt like a grenade had gone off in his chest. Tears burned his eyes and his stomach clenched at the sight of Ellie's pain.

 

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