Ellie was breathing hard, oxygen-deprived and supremely turned on, and there he stood, not even an arm’s length away with a pirate’s smile. “I don’t think that answer was to the question you asked.”
His smile grew, showing teeth as he looked down at his feet and toed the ground. “I suppose not, but I have to admit I liked the answer anyway.”
She pushed off his car and stepped a little further into the darkness just beyond the bumper, curious to see if he’d follow her. “So, you got any other burning questions?”
He chuckled darkly in a way that sent a shiver up her spine. Oh yes, she was definitely playing with fire. “So, so many.”
Ellie held out both arms, palms up. “Well? I’m free, ask away.”
The look he gave her left scorch marks. “I’d love to take you up on that, but unfortunately, I have early court tomorrow.”
The pout she gave him wasn’t feigned in the slightest. “Pity. Maybe later in the week, then?”
He shrugged, starting in her direction, his seemingly aimless movements looking more predatory by the moment. “Maybe.” He shrugged, moving closer and closer to her.
“How do you feel about Italian Fest?” She had to admit, she loved the idea of him and cannoli in the same place.
At her question, his grin faltered and then fell away, his eyes suddenly cold, guarded. “Um, no, if that’s okay with you.”
His sudden change in demeanor was confusing, and she took a step toward him, only to have him retreat slightly. “Okay? I mean, I’m going with Josh, but I’d rather be there with you.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.” He hit the key fob, unlocking his car, startling her. “I gotta head out. I’ll call you.”
Ellie watched him pull out of the lot, completely unclear as to how she’d messed up. They went from pondering finding a dark corner to continue their little Q and A session, to him bolting like he was being chased by a chainsaw-wielding psychopath. She hummed as she thought, walking out to her own car, parked in the middle of the lot, under a light. “Men. More nuts than advertised.”
Chapter 3
“Well, those aren’t necessarily the shoes I would have chosen for you, but they’re not too bad,” Josh remarked as he walked past her into the townhouse. He looked perfect in his turquoise polo shirt that accented both his eyes and the size of his arms, jeans, and his leather sandals. They were meeting at her place because she lived just a couple blocks from the festival, and parking at her place was free, if you could find it.
She looked down at her strapless red and white flowered dress and her red canvas wedges. “Eh, they’ll do. It was this or my Chucks, and I didn’t want to have that fight today.” She grabbed her red straw summer purse and house keys. “Besides, are we going to eat cannoli or are we going to get laid?”
He took her keys from her and locked the door after walking out behind her. “I don’t see why we can’t do both.”
She narrowed her eyes at him before hiding her gaze behind her sunglasses. “Of course you don’t.”
He offered her his arm at the top of the steps as he pulled down his shades from his head. “Ladies to the inside.”
It was two blocks, tops, from her house to Holy Rosary, a beautiful Catholic church that had served the local Italian community for the better part of a century. On a quiet side street just south of downtown, the location was perfect for a street festival.
Though they’d missed the Mass, Ellie and Josh arrived just in time for the processional from the church to the festival. It smelled like the most decadent kitchen ever. Tomatoes, garlic, sausage, and everything else that would make her dress a little too tight were on sale at every booth. They stopped and sampled a bit before moving on to the next tantalizing aroma’s source.
There was dancing, some singing, and Ellie found she was having fun in spite of herself. Josh wouldn’t let her dwell on her personal problems, which was what made him the best friend she could ask for. Sean hadn’t called her. Not once. And, while she knew the phone worked both ways, her reaching out to him still filled her with a trepidation that even the most potent antacid couldn’t handle.
She and Josh made their way to a picnic table at the edge of the festival with their ravioli and cannolis, smiling as the little kids in their Sunday clothes ran past them chasing a balloon.
“I didn’t know you spoke Italian,” Josh mused as he tucked his napkin into his collar. No need to get marinara everywhere.
“What do you mean?” Ellie just ate as slowly and carefully as she could manage; knowing that even wrapping herself in napkins like a mummy wasn’t going to keep her clean.
“You’re out there singing and conversing,” he waved his fork in the direction of the stage, “like Italia is your second home.”
She snorted, but didn’t look up from her plate. “Just a lot of Godfather movies.”
He blinked at her. “Apparently.”
They devoured their dinners in the belly of the chaos, having chosen an area prone to high speed children hyped up on dolci. Ellie leaned back and stretched before looking around. “I’m gonna walk for a bit, before I eat myself into a coma.”
Josh nodded. “Sounds good. I’m gonna head over and talk to the guys working traffic. Maybe see if they need something to eat.”
She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “You’re such a saint,” she said with as much irony as each word could hold.
He gave her the big, innocent eyes that she was sure had fooled many a man into doing his bidding. “You know it. The horns just keep my halo straight.”
Ellie chuckled. “Uh huh. Meet you by the stage in half an hour, okay?”
Josh was already stalking his quarry. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Oh, you’re not fun at all,” she replied, but was talking to the air. She watched as his tall form was enveloped by the crowd.
She envied him so much. He was always at ease, no matter the company, no matter the occasion, just poised and good to go, and she was just the opposite. She’d yet to find a word beyond ‘awkward’, but when she did, she knew she’d be it. Small talk and social graces were skills that seemed to deliberately ignore her, and she them, though in the presence of enough alcohol, she found that she, too, could have a vivacious personality and be comfortable around others. But then, most people found that to be the case.
Wandering from booth to booth, she talked to the friends from work she ran into, but mostly she just kept to herself and enjoyed the overall atmosphere. At least, she did until she got almost to the end of the festival and found the Mastriani booth. They’d done a robust business, if their empty serving trays were anything to go by, but the lack of tiramisu was not her main concern. Standing there, in all her summery glory, was Pia, the gone-but-apparently-not-so-much. Striking turquoise halter dress that showed off her tan, hair up in the most precise ponytail this side of an Aveda salon, cheekbones that had inspired entire artistic movements, she looked amazing.
Rather than draw attention to herself, Ellie took out her phone and pretended to get a call as she turned abruptly to walk in the other direction. “Hey girl, how you doing? I’m looking for you at the festival…. Oh, by the stage? On my way.”
“Ellie? Ellie Gardner?”
Fuck. It was through sheer willpower that she didn’t physically exhibit the way her mind threw on the brakes at the sound of Pia’s voice. Even her voice was perfect. Cow. “I’ll see ya in a minute,” she said into her phone, and slipped it back into her bag before turning around. “Pia,” she plastered on a pleasant smile, “good to see you.”
“You, too!” she gushed. “How’ve you been? Sean and I haven’t seen you in forever! Look at you! Turn around, did you lose weight?”
Ellie’s ears started to ring and the street dipped a bit beneath her at the mention of his name. The way she was talking, they were still together. “A little bit. You look great, too, love your shoes.” She’d actually lost about twenty pounds, but that wasn’t a conversation she was goi
ng to have with Sean’s ex-whatever.
Pia smiled and looked down at her feet. “Oh these? Yeah, I just had them in the closet. I think they’re last year’s Ferragamos.”
She ignored the fact that she just saw them online and knew damn well they were this season’s. “Well, they’re great.” Ellie knew that kind of platitude was polite and she should say something to continue the conversation, but she really couldn’t think around the rattling in her brain as thoughts bounced off the walls and shattered, making more thoughts. “Well, I actually have to go; I’m meeting someone in a couple minutes on the other side of the fair.”
“Oh, of course. I wish Sean had been here, I know he would have loved to see you.” That the sentiment fell so easily from Pia’s lips made her head and stomach roil that much more.
“Oh, where is he?” This, she wanted to hear. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from feigning a pleasant smile.
Pia rolled her eyes in exasperation, “Oh, we were out in the park the other day and I think his allergies have just been acting up. He decided to stay home with Guinness.”
Her mouth went dry as she responded, “Oh, of course. Tell him I said hello and I hope he feels better soon, okay?” And she was going to go throw up in the nearest trash can.
“Absolutely. He’ll be sorry he missed you.” Pia walked back toward her family’s booth, and Ellie couldn’t help but sniff the air to check for the odor of brimstone in her wake.
She turned to leave and ran right into the arms of Josh, who looked mildly concerned. “Hey, where you been? You said half an hour.”
“Bourbon,” she muttered. “I need bourbon, lots of it, right now.” She strode through the crowd with purpose, just to get away from the situation.
Josh caught up with her at the stage and grabbed her elbow to halt her before she plowed into a crowd of couples dancing to a Jerry Vale imitator. “Okay, stop. You almost ran over a little old lady right there. What the hell’s wrong with you?”
Closing her eyes, she rubbed a finger from the bridge of her nose to the spot between her eyebrows trying to organize her thoughts. She was not going to cry, she would be god damned if she was going to cry here. “I,” she swallowed and tried again, “I need to go home. We’ll talk about it when I get home, okay?” She took a couple shaky breaths and started again for the fair exit, only to be held back by Josh.
“Was that Pia you were talking to?” He started back toward the far end of the festival. “I’ll go take care of her. Damn all that.”
He dragged her about three steps backward before she dug in her heels. “No.” When he whipped around, he looked like an avenging angel, sapphire eyes blazing, intent on rending her nemesis from perfect hair to expensive pedicure. “No,” she said again, her voice much calmer than she felt, “we’re just gonna go back to my place. There’s no need to do this here.”
Josh looked her up and down before settling on her eyes. “Okay. Let’s go.” Securely at her side, he steered her expertly through the crowd to the entrance.
“Hey, Josh.”
They came to a screeching halt at the deep voice just on the other side of the ropes designating the entrance to the fair. The voice came from a walking tree of a man whom she recognized as Dane, or Mr. Firefighter from the other morning and the bar of late, as she’d come to think of him, dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans.
Josh blushed, something that shocked the hell out of Ellie. “Hi, Dane,” he stammered, blinking rapidly. When she cleared her throat, he snapped out of it. “You remember Ellie?”
The tree looked angry for all of a minute before smiling. “Yeah, we met the other morning when we were changing shifts at your place, and then again at the hall, but you might not have remembered that part.” He offered her his hand. “Nice to see you again, Ellie.”
It was like putting her hand in a baseball glove. “Likewise.” She felt a lot steadier now that she was on her way home, so she decided to do Josh a favor. “Josh, why don’t you hang out here with Dane and I’ll just head on home.”
Josh practically gaped at her. “Really?” Then he looked appalled at his own eagerness. He backtracked, “I mean, I’ll walk you home and come back, it’s not like it’s that far.”
She shook her head and was already moving past Dane to head down the street. “I’m good. I just need some fresh air to clear my head. I’ll be fine.”
He looked at her for a long moment, but she was still walking. “Okay. Text me when you get home!” he called after her. She waved in response, but didn’t look back. He deserved a night out, and his friend was kinda smokin’. If she weren’t already having a bad night, she’d feel worse about tearing up his morning last Saturday.
The neighborhood was quiet, which was the usual. Despite the proximity to downtown, it was a peaceful little section of the world. As she neared her townhouse, she noticed two things: that her violets were drooping from the heat, and there was someone sitting on her front steps. Putting her hand in her purse like she was going for her keys, she found her canister of pepper spray and flipped off the safety.
“There’s no need to spray me,” the rough voice came from the darkness. “I wouldn’t hurt you.” Dressed in all black, a button down open over a tank top, jeans, boots, he would have faded into the shadows of her unlit stoop if not for the arctic blue eyes.
She sighed and hiked her bag back up on her shoulder as she walked up the steps next to him and unlocked her door. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”
* * *
“You look beautiful,” he offered as he scrambled to his feet. The dress was perfect, fun and feminine, the slight flair of the skirt made her legs look like they went on forever. She’d never shown him this side of her, and for the first time he felt a bit cheated and like an idiot for missing what had been right in front of him all those years ago.
He realized as he followed her in that he’d never been to her new place. He’d helped her move in to the old place. She’d paid him in beer and strombolis.
“Thanks.” She sounded listless, drained, not like she just came home from…wherever she’d been. “How’d you find my house?”
He shrugged, but gave her the real answer. “I kinda snooped in your file.” At her sharp look and raised eyebrows, he held up his hands. “I only use my powers for good. I swear.”
“I see,” was her only reply, but her displeasure was more than clear. She tossed her purse on the kitchen table and went straight to the cabinet for a bottle of whiskey and a couple of short glasses. “Hope you don’t mind, been that kinda night.”
“Of course. Thank you.” He took the whiskey from her and a tumbler. “Living room or dining room?”
“Anywhere that I can get these shoes off would be great,” she answered after a yawn, and then proceeded into the living room.
“As you wish.” New couch and chairs, he noticed, spicy red with fluffy black and white accent pillows.
Ellie flounced down onto the couch, and immediately kicked off her shoes. The fact that they matched the living room was not lost on him, but he let that go. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus on toast with bacon.” She flexed her toes and stretched her feet a bit on the couch between them, her skirt daintily covering her knees. “They’re cute, but they kill after awhile. Now that that problem’s solved, pass the bourbon. Please.”
He handed her the bottle and watched her carefully pour two fingers in both glasses. “Why do you wear them?” He raised his glass to thank her when she handed it to him.
“Because they give a confidence that physical comfort just can’t sometimes.” She shrugged and sat back with her legs crossed at the knee, sipping her whiskey with one hand, even had a pinky out, and rubbing the arch of her foot with the other.
“I think they make your ass look amazing,” he murmured as he enjoyed his drink. She did always have great taste in whiskey.
“Shut it, you.” She snickered and pushed at his leg with her toes. “If I wanted your opinion, I’d have—”
“Removed t
he duct tape,” he finished for her. He set down his drink and caught her ankle. Despite her squeals of laughter and protestations, he began slowly massaging her foot. “I’m sorry about the other night.” It seemed inadequate to apologize for the near-meltdown in the parking lot, but there was no easy or quick way to explain why he avoided Italian Fest and the memories that particular venue engendered.
“S’okay, you had to be up early.” Ellie sighed contentedly and closed her eyes, still sipping her drink occasionally. When he looked up again, he saw her watching him closely. “I thought your allergies were acting up,” she mentioned in a light tone as she poured more whiskey.
He raised an eyebrow, but kept massaging, thinking the punchline would be coming any second now. “I don’t have any allergies.”
“Mmm,” was her only reply as she continued to drink, which was surprisingly concerning to him now. “No allergies. Interesting.”
Sean released her foot and watched as she took it back and tucked it under her on the couch. “None since I was a kid. Why?”
“So then,” she leaned over and set her glass on the table, “you also weren’t out last week at a park with Guinness and Pia?”
His jaw hit the floor in understanding. Ellie had seen Pia. He didn’t know how or when, he could only assume the festival down the street, but the apparent lack of bloodshed left him unsure. However, she had apparently had time to ruminate over the conversation and come to some spectacularly bad conclusions. Sean decided to go with the truth. “Yes, I was, but—”
“And what, you were just reminiscing, thinking about the good old days when you were married? How much you missed her? How much you still love her?” She got up off the couch and collected the glasses and the bourbon. From over the half wall in the kitchen, she asked, “Am I just a random, substitute piece of ass while you get your house in order?”
“Substitute piece of…?” He got to his feet to the sound of banging cabinets and chunky glasses being abused in the sink under running water. “I saw her that Sunday. A few hours after you went tearing out of my house like you were on fire and I had bedbugs.” She hated bugs of any kind and he knew that.
The Ex File (Behind the Blue Line Series Book 1) Page 5