Chapter 2
Sean wasn’t normally a light sleeper, and had been known to sleep through more than one natural disaster in his childhood. Still, he found he couldn’t quite drift off to sleep for fear he’d wake up and find this had all been a cocktail-fueled dream. An alcohol-soaked reverie which would only serve to break his heart again.
He listened to her breathing, deep and untroubled, as she lay curled up on his shoulder, her soft black curls in a bramble tangle that fell over his arm and spread out against the shimmery silver of the pillow. The moon took her sweet time on her nightly sojourn, giving him ample time to study the wisps at her nape, the curve of her shoulder, the silken feel of her skin. He was in heaven.
This was so far beyond what he’d expected when he’d spied her sidling up to the bar at the Hall. He couldn’t have excused himself fast enough from the conversation he’d been in with a buddy in organized crime, before making his way over to her. Admittedly, he almost didn’t recognize her with her riot of curls where her ultra-short pixie used to be. He liked how it accented her spunky personality, but, he mused as he pulled one ringlet almost straight and watched it spring back, this might be a more apt analogy.
Sean couldn’t get enough of touching her, lightly trailing his finger from her shoulder and down her back, trying to absorb the softness. Ellie sighed and shivered in her sleep before settling down and snuggling against him, bringing a smile to his lips. She was perfect and everything he ever wanted, even before his ill-fated dalliance with Pia.
Pia Mastriani. If he never heard that name again, it would be too soon. A part of him knew it had been a bad idea at the time, but infatuation, and an hourglass figure, could cloud even the sharpest mind. She was beautiful, funny, smart, it was the perfect relationship on paper. The paper just didn’t include the fine print like her pettiness, insecurity, intense need for attention, and a sense of entitlement that would weigh down even the most well-heeled trust fund baby.
But Ellie had never said a word. Well, maybe she had in the beginning, but he’d written that off as her characteristic snarkiness. Ellie was more of a sexy tomboy: curly hair, dark eyes that glittered when she laughed, jeans that made her ass look like it was made for grabbing, and a rack, oh, how he loved her rack. But her brand of femininity was lifetimes away from Pia’s, which was more ‘appropriate shoes and matching handbags’. Sean had just felt like the luckiest bastard on Earth for garnering her attention.
The marriage had been short. She’d known she was marrying blue collar, and her father had given them a house as a wedding present. It was more of a half million dollar prison, with all the latest appointments, than a home, but they’d been happy for the first few months. Then he got shot.
So many things about that day still eluded his memory, and that was probably for the best, anyway. He had been on the job, wearing a vest, caught two in the chest and one off to the side just beyond the Kevlar’s reach. His mind went blank somewhere while being loaded into the ambulance, and then came back again about two days later when he fully regained consciousness. By then, Ellie was a figment, only available by memory, because her cell phone went unanswered. While he knew where she was, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that she did not want to be found, for reasons that escaped him. It made it harder to deal with, knowing where she was and that she didn’t want to see him, and while he would have sought an explanation under other circumstances, it wasn’t like he was in a position to go hunt her down, anyway.
Though she’d been at the wedding and been to the house a couple times, he never understood why she chose right then to go. They’d been friends for several years before his marriage, beer, pizza, and fight night friends. Bad date therapy over cheese fries and whiskey friends. She was the one thing in his life that he counted on never to go anywhere, and then she was gone.
He drove his fingers through his hair before settling in with a hand behind his head, sighing in annoyed futility. The words she’d said tonight, about leaving him so he didn’t have to make a choice between the women in his life, he’d understood them, but not what they meant. He’d have never done that, never even thought of it. He’d been married to Pia, but she was his best friend, his confidant. And while the tale she spun sounded very noble, in his mind, all that ended up happening was she had been gone when he needed her most.
Pia had started seeing Chet sometime not long before he’d gotten shot, but the relationship didn’t come to his attention until a few weeks later when he was returning from rehab and found ol’ Chet making time in the Jacuzzi. Naked and looking distinctly like a soggy polar bear. Not enough brain bleach in the world to take that image from Sean, more’s the pity. After all the lies, histrionics, and her throwing a few dishes at him for being the bastard who got himself shot and then was going to deprive her of a husband, not to mention the fact that he was never home to satisfy her needs… his mind drifted back to one of their final, face to face, conversations.
“I’m sure your father would like some grandkids,” she’d simpered while using a putty knife to repair the damage her running eyeliner had caused to her makeup.
“I’m sure my father would prefer that his grandkids were actually fathered by me,” had been his equally acidic reply. Damn, but he’d needed Ellie, missed her, just needed a hug of encouragement from her, and all he’d had was an empty space where she used to be.
Ellie’s moan in her sleep brought him back to the present, and he couldn’t help but smile as she turned over and snuggled against him. Her eyelashes brushed her tanned cheeks, her full lips still slightly swollen from his kisses. He loved the warmth of her skin against his, her softness, the lingering scent of her perfume. It soothed all the churned up emotions inside him, at least for a little while. He nuzzled into her hair and kissed her head right before he went to sleep, enjoying the rightness of his life for the first time in what felt like forever.
* * *
The ringtone Sean had set for his father-in-law was the theme for The Exorcist. He’d done it on a lark, out of spite, whatever, but it remained for the entirety of his marriage and the unfortunate aftermath, though it had been a long time since he’d given it any thought. However, it now filled the room from the comfort of his nightstand, jangling his watch onto the floor and causing Ellie to wrap the pillow around her head in her sleep. He gave a brief thought about sending it to voicemail, but knew from past experience that Art would only call him back until they spoke and decided to bite the bullet.
Sean was up and out of bed, grabbing the phone and a pair of cutoff sweatpants and heading downstairs to the living room. “Art! How you been, buddy? Long time no talk.” His lack of formality was intentional, because he had gotten to enjoy pushing the old man’s buttons during his time of incarceration, er, marriage to his offspring. The brightness coming in through the patio windows was enough to make him recoil into the stairwell and had him sitting on the bottom step.
“I take it you haven’t heard,” Arturo Mastriani opened in lieu of a greeting. He was a businessman with little time for niceties or pleasantries, or at least, that was how it had always seemed to Sean. He was a fruit and vegetable distributor, third generation heir to the company and taking it statewide. It would have been impressive if he hadn’t been such a pompous ass.
Sean ran his fingers through his hair and tugged on his earlobe. “It’s a little early, and I’m still a little drunk, so you’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Pia has finally come to her senses and returned home. I thought that would make you happy.” The old man sounded relieved and joyful at the same time. Sean could see him in his mind, adjusting his ridiculously expensive tie and picking with his cufflinks.
“Wow. Pia finally came home.” Sean rubbed his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. Oh, he was happy all right, if getting a diagnosis of cirrhosis could make him happy. “And what is it you expect me to do with this information?” He levered himself off the steps using the handrail and made his way
into the kitchen. This was not a conversation he needed to be having without caffeine. Guinness came over and nuzzled his free hand and headed for the door, so he detoured to the back door before making a beeline for the coffeemaker.
“Did you seriously just ask me that?” Arturo sounded agitated, anxious. “You need to go to her and take her back.”
“You want me to take her back.” The very idea made his mouth go dry. The coffee couldn’t brew fast enough. He stuck his cup on the hotplate beneath the spout to hurry the process along. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. She’s come home, she’s demanding you satisfy her every whim, and apparently I’m one of those whims.”
“Sean. You know I love my daughter, and I know that you love her, too.” Art was in full negotiator mode now.
Sean sipped his coffee and began rummaging through the cabinets to see if he could make Ellie a proper breakfast or if he was going to take her out. “She’s a loveable woman, and I’m sure someone else will think so. I’m not that guy.” He even almost managed to get all that out with a straight face.
“She said she wanted to see you at the house this afternoon.” Her father was nothing if not relentless.
It was all Sean could do not to spit the coffee across the room. He would be god damned if he was going to set foot back in that house. He shut the fridge with a dejected slam. No eggs meant no breakfast. There was only one way to end this conversation quickly so he could dress and take Ellie out. “I’ll see her, but not there. She can meet me at…” he thought quickly, trying to calculate his time with Ellie versus his time with Pia, “three. In the park we used to go to. She knows where.”
“You were always such a reasonable man. I knew I could count on you.” Arturo sounded exultant, triumphant.
Sean pursed his lips as he let the dog in and sipped his coffee. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see her later.” He tossed his phone on the dining room table after he disconnected from his former father-in-law. Rubbing the back of his neck after he drove his fingers through his hair, he stared around the living room. Guinness sat by the back door, waiting patiently, so he let him in, and grabbed his shirt before he headed upstairs to dress and take out Ellie.
He certainly didn’t expect to be practically steamrolled down the stairs by a fleeing woman heading for his front door. “Hey, El.”
She actually looked startled when he called to her from the stairwell. “I… I… I got this thing. I forgot. This morning. I gotta go.”
“Okay?” He walked over to the breakfast bar next to the front door and hung his shirt over the back of the chair as he leaned against it. She looked terrified, and more than a little sad, but was holding together like it was all she could do.
“It’s was lovely seeing you again. I’ll call you. Bye.” And then she was gone, like last night had never even happened.
Sean grabbed his shirt and sat on the bottom step of the stairway. He rubbed Guinness’s head when the tall, droopy dog joined him. “Women are nuts,” he said as he stared blankly into the living room. “Completely and utterly nuts.”
* * *
It was less the walk of shame than the sprint of the scandalous. Ellie was out the door, out of the neighborhood, and on the road southbound for ten minutes before she allowed herself to think beyond fleeing the scene of the crime. As she hit the stoplight of her intended exit, she ran both hands down her face and tried to think. Her mind kept on this rollercoaster loop of last night and the phone conversation she just overheard. Not to mention the image of him, all warm and yummy and barefoot, in a pair of low-hanging sweatpants as she damn near broke the sound barrier running out the door.
Ellie quickly put on her earpiece and dialed her phone as she made the turn onto Emerson. There was one person who could set the world right for her, Josh Graham, aka her best friend.
It rang twice before she was greeted by a distinctly unimpressed, gruff voice. “’Lo?”
Fuck. He was sleeping. She looked at the clock on the dash and winced. It was well before a time any of her friends would find decent, but she needed backup, and she needed it now. “Joshua,” she used his full name to convey the importance of the situation, “I need to see you. Now.”
“Eleanor Rose. Do you have any idea what time it is?” he hissed, letting her know he was still in bed with whatever-his-name-is-today.
“Really? Both names?” She stared at her phone even though she was on the earpiece. The only people to call her that had been her foster parents, and even that was only when she had been in serious trouble. “It’s 9:30 on a Sunday morning. Look, kick whomever he is out of bed, I’m coming over. ETA less than ten.”
“I’m on my day off and he’s a firefighter, dammit!” He sounded desperate after she gave him the timetable. She heard shuffling and thumping in the background, as well as muffled voices.
“One whom I’m sure you can pencil back into your busy schedule.” She loved Josh, truly, but his was a revolving door of unbelievably pretty men. She’d be jealous if they weren’t all gay. Some things just couldn’t be helped. “I need your help, Josh, I wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t.”
“Fine!” In her mind, the words went with him throwing up his hands in frustration. “I’ll see you in a few.”
Josh’s house was a cute little tan two-story on a cul-du-sac with meticulous landscaping and a hot tub out back. It would have looked silly, sliding sideways into a driveway in a hybrid Ford, but she was tempted, so tempted. She parked like a normal person, however, and was out of the car and up the walkway just in time to be on the receiving end of the hairiest of hairy eyeballs from Mr. Firefighter, quite possibly the biggest man she’d ever seen. Short blond hair, t-shirt thrown around his neck and emphasizing his massive shoulders, which really went with the massive and perfectly-sculpted rest of him.
She could see why Josh wanted to keep him around for an afternoon romp. He looked like he could carry her, her fictitious dog and three pieces of furniture out of a burning building. At the same time. A touch of guilt flared, but she shoved it down. She didn’t like the time either, but damn, this was an emergency. Capital E.
Josh flung open the front door for her and stood there, also shirtless, with his arms crossed. “Oh, by all means, come on in.” If he didn’t look so pissed, she’d have admired his well-chiseled form. The way it was, she supposed she should consider herself lucky that he’d deigned to wear pants. “Can I get you something? A drink? A snack? A definition of the word ‘emergency’, perhaps?”
His sarcasm fell on deaf ears as she strode into his house and deposited her purse on the kitchen table as she wilted into the nearest chair. “This definitely qualifies, but I’m sorry for interrupting your morning.” It was obvious from the smells of bacon and coffee that his morning had been very differently planned from how it was playing out.
He waved off her apology as he prepared plates of waffles and sundry. When he finally came to the table, he had one arm loaded up with plates and silverware in the other hand like the most practiced of waiters, even though he hadn’t done that in a few years since joining the police department. “Here, eat something so I’m less tempted to choke you.”
She laughed and dug into the plate in front of her. “You’re always so cranky before you get your caffeine.” His response was a grunt, either of agreement or menace, she didn’t know, but the bacon was perfect, and that was all she cared about. He nudged the syrup in her direction with his elbow, but she shook her head. “No thanks, I prefer them naked.”
He snorted as he sipped his coffee. “As do I, and yet, here you are. So are you going to tell me why you made me roust the hottest firefighter in the city or are you going to make me guess?”
Ellie chased the last bite of waffle around her plate with her fork while she rested her chin on her palm. She didn’t want to look him in the eye, because while she hadn’t gotten too ashamed yet, it had been several miles since she’d seen proud. “It starts at the party last night.”
“How’s that possible? I saw y
ou right after you got there.”
“Well, not quite right after,” she hedged with a cringe. “See, I walked in and everybody was there, and you know I don’t do crowds well. So I ordered up a couple shots, you know, just some liquid social graces. Well, while I’m waiting for my shots, he shows up. We talk for a little bit, and then he goes, and then I see you. After that, I go over to talk to Tommy and Meredith, and then he comes back and says, ‘Why don’t we go to my place and drink some more?’ So I do. I mean, I haven’t seen him in a while, we’ve got some things to catch up on, whatever. Then we’re at his place, drinking cocktails, hanging out with his dog, then we’re kissing, and—”
“What in the entire hell are you on about? And who is this ‘he’ you keep mentioning?” From the look on his face, it appeared she’d lost him after the first couple sentences.
Hell, this was going badly. Usually her friend was swifter on the uptake. “Did you happen to notice anyone interesting at the party last night?”
Josh graced her with a pitying look before slowly sliding into a predatory grin. “Oh sweetie, you know I did. I’m just asking you to be more specific.”
“About six, six-one, shoulder length black hair—”
“Oh,” he said as his eyebrows shot up with understanding, “that type of ‘anyone’.”
As she replayed the evening in her mind, she found herself getting grumpy again, despite the waffles and bacon. “Yeah, that type of anyone.”
“Well, that explains why I didn’t see you again last night.” He sat back in his chair, pondering over sips of coffee until he sat up all at once and slammed the mug down on the table.“Wait, wait, wait. You went home with Sean. You spent the night with Sean. The Sean you haven’t seen in three years.”
The Ex File (Behind the Blue Line Series Book 1) Page 3