Chapter Two
Eli felt like his head had just hit the pillow when the cell phone on his bedside table began whistling and vibrating. Rubbing his eyes, he looked at the display before he answered. Mike Esparza, close friend and fellow bouncer at The Dancing Pony, was calling him at three in the morning and that couldn’t be good. He answered as he sat up and flung the sheet and blanket back.
“Yeah.”
“We’re headed to Rachel’s. She just called. Her apartment building is on fire.”
Eli went cold. “Shit! Is she all right?” He turned on his lamp and reached for his leathers.
“Yeah, she was warned in time by neighbors. Her parents are out of town, and she hasn’t been able to reach them. When I talked to her, she asked me to call you. Bring your truck.”
“I’ll be there in three minutes.” He ended the call, zipped his pants, and slung a T-shirt on. Shoving his feet in his heavy leather boots, he was out the door in less than thirty seconds. He jogged past his Harley parked under the carport and jumped in his truck. He backed out of the duplex’s driveway and laid a track of rubber, not worried about waking any neighbors. The other side of the duplex was vacant at the moment.
He turned the corner and saw the source of the orange glow he’d been watching in the sky for the last couple of minutes. Fire trucks and ambulances lined the street in the residential neighborhood. Hoses crisscrossed the barricaded street, so he parked along the curb behind Mike’s pickup truck. The firefighters and police were keeping residents and onlookers from getting too close, and most stood in the yards across the street.
Being six-nine and 275 pounds paid off again because he could see over every head there. Everyone got out of his way instinctively as he moved through the crowd looking for Rachel. He found Mike and Rogelio Flores, the other bouncer at The Dancing Pony, where they stood with her on the curb. She seemed so tiny and vulnerable, standing next to the two very large men, and her beautiful, sooty face was strained with tension as she watched the flames lick from her living room window. A draft stirred ash in the air, and he felt the heat of the fire on the wind as it ruffled her long, tousled hair. He stepped off the curb and blocked her view momentarily as she looked up at him, and her lower lip trembled.
* * * *
A parade of emotions flashed through Rachel’s mind as she looked up at Eli. She had steeled herself for what was happening as much as possible. If she fell to pieces, how was she going to capably deal with the aftermath of the fire?
She fought her tears as she looked up at Eli, his eyes partially hidden in shadow when the flames leapt into the sky behind him. He looked down at her with tenderness and compassion as his fingers wiped at the soot on her cheeks. He looked like a dark avenging angel with his long coal-black hair loose behind his back. Her view of the burning building was completely blocked by his massive, muscular shoulders and extreme height. Backlit by the glow from the fire raging across the street, he seemed even larger.
The flashing lights of a police car illuminated Eli’s face for a second and revealed the tanned beauty of his features, part Native American warrior and part enormous Viking. His eyebrows were drawn together in concern for her over his gray eyes.
He put his arms out, and Rachel reached for him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She pressed her face to his chest, and a sob shook her body. As the dam on her tears broke, he didn’t shush her, just let her cry. The feel of his hard body supporting her did strange things to her chest. This was a place she had fantasized about being numerous times, but never under these circumstances. She held on tight and hid her face against his muscular chest as she sobbed. He rubbed her back and smoothed her hair. He felt so good, but she needed to get a grip before her tears got out of hand. There would be time enough for that later.
Rachel needed to find a place to store the things she’d saved, which a firefighter had been kind enough to help her move across the street. That was one of the nice things about living in a small town. She’d piled them in front of her apartment until the fire department had arrived and warned her not to go back in again. She’d have to call her insurance agent so she could file a claim on the renter’s insurance. Rachel tightened the grip on her emotions and wiped her face on the cuff of her robe, which probably made her sooty face even messier.
“Well, boys, it would appear I am temporarily homeless. I need to store my stuff somewhere until I can find a place to live. Any suggestions?” she asked matter-of-factly, standing there in her bathrobe, nightgown, and fuzzy slippers. The men went into action and gathered up her belongings in their arms.
“We can take your things to my place, Rachel,” Eli offered. “You can store them in my second bedroom and stay with me if you’d like. The other half of my duplex is vacant right now, and I could put a good word in for you.”
She looked skeptically at him.
“Honey, we could always take you out to your folks’ place,” Mike suggested. “You know they wouldn’t mind if you moved in until you got back on your feet.”
She shook her head decisively. “No, I’m not moving back home. I have some money saved and should be okay. I like having my independence. I know they wouldn’t mind, but I would.”
“You could stay with me and Rosa,” Mike said, searching for other options.
“No, it’s asking too much of Rosa. She has her hands full with the kids and her mom. Things are pretty crowded already. No offense, Mike.”
“None taken. I think it’s too crowded sometimes, too. What about Rogelio? You know he’d watch out for you.” Rogelio nodded but looked a little doubtful, and Rachel knew why.
“Rogelio would definitely look out for me, but I think that would be a bad idea. Christina would not understand, and I don’t want to mess things up between the new lovebirds. Plus, where would I put my stuff?” she asked.
Rogelio lived in a tiny travel trailer on twenty acres of land while he saved up money to build his own house. He’d only just begun dating Christina, and Rachel could tell that they were falling in love. She didn’t want to take a chance on screwing up that little romance. If anyone deserved happiness, Rogelio did.
“Then I guess you’re coming home with me, angel,” Eli said as she piled more stuff into his arms.
“All right. But are you going to behave?” she said, chuckling as she tried to look serious. She was so on a slippery slope there.
“I promise I’ll behave. But you don’t know what you’re missing,” Eli replied with his usual charming persistence.
The week after Angel Martinez and Ethan Grant were shot by Patricia Ramirez at The Dancing Pony, Eli asked her out on a date, with Mike and Rogelio’s permission, she found out later. Mike and Rogelio had known her since Rachel was a girl, having worked on her family’s cattle ranch as ranch hands for a time. She’d turned Eli down flat. When he asked her why, she said she didn’t know him well enough to go out with him.
A week later, Eli asked her out again, and again she turned him down for the same reason. He asked her out again the next week, and she said she knew him better and liked him but saw how the women threw themselves at him at the club. She told him flat out she was the very jealous type and would only make him unhappy with her territorial nature. Since then, she had told him she liked him as a friend, but that was the extent of their relationship. One thing about Eli she’d learned in the ensuing weeks—he was persistent. Her resistance to him had weakened dramatically last evening, but she still knew it was a bad idea. Good Rachel congratulated her for her wisdom while Bad Rachel thought she was being a chickenshit.
When she was at The Dancing Pony, Eli never returned any of the attention that was lavished on him by the women who frequented the club. Mike had mentioned to her privately that was the case anytime they worked, not just when she was around. She appreciated that fact, but she was aware of Ethan’s policy of no domestic strife in the bar and knew she’d rip the eyes out of any woman who laid a hand on what she had claimed as her territory. It was bette
r this way, she’d told him on several occasions, just to be friends.
“Stop teasing, Eli. You know I’m right. It’s better this way. Given your line of work you need someone who is less jealous. You and I would be trouble from the get-go.”
Rachel wished she was wrong about what she could handle, but she knew she wasn’t. She knew how she felt when women put their hands on his body now. They were so casual about it, sliding a hand along his thickly muscled biceps or fingering his long, thick black hair that made her hands twitch with the desire to run her own fingers through it. Sometimes they would place a hand on his abdomen as they talked to him or hooked a finger in his belt loop.
One lucky woman had actually caressed Eli’s thick, muscular thigh through his leathers. He’d promptly risen from the barstool he was perched on at the door, stopping her hand before it could slide up farther. The effect on her body was the same every time. Her blood was like ice water in her veins, while at the same time, she felt a strong desire to do bodily damage. She was tempted to go to these women and tell them to remove their damned hands before she ripped every hair out of their heads.
How would it be if they were together and those things happened? Right now, she only felt attraction toward Eli. What if they started dating and she became more intimately attached to him, or worse, fell in love? That thought always sent a thrill through her, but she knew someone would get hurt for sure. The thought of being intimate with him and then having to share him with the female horde at the club was asking too much.
He was always a perfect gentleman to all the ladies, even when he was removing their hands from his person. He had to be subtle about it so he didn’t offend them and lose his employers their business. It was a narrow line he had to walk, and she understood. Thus, they were at an impasse because he still asked her out on a regular basis.
Rachel remembered that she had asked Mike to call Eli tonight. There was some deep part of her that needed him, which she was desperately trying not to acknowledge. His presence tonight comforted her so much. His arms around her and his chest to cry against made her feel so safe and secure. It was a losing battle she was fighting. If she looked into the vacant half of the duplex and considered becoming his neighbor, she knew the temptation to be with him would only grow.
“My car is parked down there now.” She gestured toward the end of the block. “I moved it after I couldn’t go in the building anymore.”
“We’ll load everything up, and you can follow me out to the house,” Eli said. She walked over to get in her car and pulled it down to where Mike and Eli’s vehicles were parked.
Rachel came to Mike and Rogelio and hugged them in turn then thanked them for running to her aid. They hugged her hard and promised to be there if she needed anything. More tears would do no good right now, and so Rachel kept a lid on them. She could fall to pieces later. She turned to Eli.
“I’ve never been out to your house before.” This was a big step, and she knew it. She didn’t doubt that he wanted to help her. Being honest with herself, she knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her, and this moment was going to change things. She needed to get a handle on her vacillating emotions and desires before they gave her whiplash.
“My place is less than five minutes away. Just follow me.” There was a purposeful light shining in his eyes like there was every time he asked her out. She nodded and climbed into the driver’s seat of her car and waved at Mike and Rogelio.
Eli got in his truck, and she followed him out of the chaotic scene, leaving it behind. The flashing lights and cacophony of sound had done a number on her nerves, and the insulated quiet of her car was deafening. She turned on the CD player and set the volume down low, listening to Nickelback as she followed Eli home.
Rachel thought back to the first time she’d seen him, his first night working at The Dancing Pony. She’d been sitting at a table talking with a friend when he’d walked in with Mike and Rogelio. His hair had been very long and he’d worn it loose, which had done all kinds of warm, fuzzy things to her insides. His features were incredibly handsome and exotic, like a Native American warrior’s. Black eyebrows arched over his sensuous eyes, which she’d found out later were an arresting shade of pale gray. His great height and strongly athletic build reminded her of a character out of a Viking romance novel. He was clad in leathers and a simple white T-shirt, and his face and body were simply drool-worthy. He had exuded an air of calm and self-confidence, which she’d assumed was the reason women were drawn to him.
The club had been fairly busy when they’d come in and started their evening’s work, and she’d realized that he must be a new hire. It had been hard to look away, and her gaze had repeatedly returned to him. She’d watched the way his thickly muscled biceps bulged when he shook hands with someone. She’d noticed she wasn’t the only woman in the place who had been mesmerized by him as many of them had begun to make their not-so-subtle way over to him to introduce themselves and flirt with him.
Rachel couldn’t have blamed them for striking while the iron was hot. Prime male gorgeousness like his was a hot commodity. He had maintained a friendly but uninterested demeanor and had spent his time talking to Mike and Rogelio, probably focused on learning the way things were done at the club.
Fascinated by his extreme height, Rachel had pined over the idea of being able to look up into a man’s eyes instead of straight into them, or, worse yet, down into them. She was tall for a woman and full-figured. That was another reason she didn’t date often because she hated feeling like she was bigger than her dates.
He’d chatted with customers and the other employees and she’d liked that he didn’t put out a “big tough guy” image like he’d needed to impress everyone. He’d been head and shoulders over almost every man in the place.
Rachel had glanced over at him again, for the hundredth time, to see Ethan introducing Grace to him. Only a moment before he’d had a twinkle in his eye, and then, he’d seemed much more serious. A bleached blonde dressed in an almost non-existent scrap of spandex and five inch stiletto heels had approached him, sliding her hand up his thick biceps, over his shoulder and around his neck. Rachel had wondered if the woman might be a late arriving girlfriend, but that theory had been proven wrong when he’d risen from his stool, dislodging her grip on him.
She’d wondered what it must be like to go home from his job with the scent of all the perfume those forward women had doused themselves with on his clothes and his skin. Would he have liked that? Or would it be like the cigarette smoke, something that had to be washed off his skin and out of his hair.
With his long, shiny black hair, Eli had been very different from the other men who came in the club, although that hadn’t seemed to deter him from fitting in and socializing well with the clientele and employees.
Later in the evening, after she’d gotten a load of that freaking-hot shelf bra that Grace had showed her and her sister, Charity, in the ladies’ room, the three of them had danced together to a Big & Rich song. Rachel absolutely loved to dance, and sometimes it didn’t matter if she had a partner or not, or if they were male or female, some songs she had to dance to. “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” definitely topped her list of must-dance songs.
Grace and Charity had evidently felt the same way. They’d gone out on that dance floor, and all three had shaken what their mamas had given them, leaving the men at Grace’s table slack-jawed and glassy-eyed with lust. It’d been almost comical.
Rachel had thrown her head back and laughed from the pure joy of moving to the beat and happened to look over and had caught that handsome new bouncer staring straight at her with what she could only call intense interest. It had been obvious in his body language. She’d almost been able feel the heat of his gaze on her body. She’d glanced his way again as she’d turned, moving her hips in a sensual rhythm, and had seen that his eyes were still on her. Boldly, Rachel had danced the rest of the song for him, sliding her hands around her hips to her ass and then up her rib
cage and into her hair. Unfortunately, the song had to come to an end.
More groups had filtered in through the door, and he’d once again focused solidly on the job. The evening had ended abruptly, thanks to that crazy heifer, Patricia Ramirez.
Rachel noticed his place was a little off the beaten path as she followed him down a dark, sparsely populated country road. Eli pulled into the driveway and parked next to his Harley. She parked behind the truck and popped her trunk. He immediately started to unload her belongings, most of which she’d hastily thrown in garbage bags. It was all a hodgepodge of clothing, shoes, papers, her laptop, and mementos she could grab in a hurry. There was also a box that she kept for such a purpose where she stored priceless old photographs, paperwork, and documents that would be hard to replace.
After Eli had all her belongings unloaded and sitting on the living room floor, he gave her a quick tour. She recognized the difficulty right off. This duplex was a two-bedroom, one-bath unit. The smaller of his two bedrooms was set up as an office, with a desk and a loveseat, plus all the other junk that usually wound up in spare rooms. His king-sized bed dominated the master bedroom, the sheet and blanket flung back in disarray from when he climbed out of it after getting the call from Mike. The comfy sofa in the living room was probably where she would bed down because the loveseat was not nearly long enough for her five foot-nine-inch frame.
Rachel took a look at herself in the hall mirror and asked Eli if she could use his shower. She hadn’t saved anything from her bathroom at all. Not soap, shampoo, razor, or curling iron, and, dammit, her birth control pills had gone up in flames, too. Shit.
He stood in the hallway with her, smiling tenderly down at her. She wanted nothing more than for him to fold her into his arms. “Of course you can take a shower, Rachel. Make yourself at home.”
“I don’t have soap or shampoo or any of that stuff.”
The Divine Creek Ranch Collection, Volume 1 [Book 1 - Divine Grace, Book 2 - Her Gentle Giant, Book 3 - Heavenly Angel] (Siren Everlasting Collection) Page 62