She heard doors open and close and voices rise and fall, then the sound of dishes clattering. Her family was eating her celebratory meal with her fiancé, and she felt more hollow than she’d felt in a very long time. Her innate good manners urged her to get up and join them, not seen to be sulking like a child in her room, and Elise swung her legs over to set her feet on the floor. She quietly opened the door and made her way to the only bathroom. She idly wondered if Ross had registered the difference between the financial status of her family compared to his and rolled her eyes. Of course he had. Ross noticed everything. She washed her face with cold water and noted her swollen eyes and red nose, but her family had seen her in worse shape, as had Ross. She pulled the covered elastic tie from her hair and ran her fingers through it, then dragged the bulk of it back to secure it again. She straightened her clothes and then went out to face everyone, including her maybe fiancé.
All eyes turned to her, but it was the pale-blue ones that transfixed her. They were somber and held a trace of uncertainty. Elise took the empty chair and accepted the bowl of potatoes from Kathy who gave her a sympathetic smile. She put food on her plate and pushed it around, listening to the conversation that flowed around her. Her sisters’ husbands appeared oblivious to the tension, because after inquiring after her headache and offering felicitations on her upcoming nuptials, they applied themselves to their plates and talked about the weather and how it would affect the crops. Her dad told her gruffly that he was sorry she hadn’t felt well and was glad she had been able to come out and eat with them. He didn’t remark on her lack of response.
Her mom looked old and tired, and Elise regretted her harsh words, although she knew that her mom could have dissuaded her father from his reckless trip to that gas station. It was a matter of honor, she had come to conclude, and fuck that nonsense. Fuck honor. Her father and Ross were far more important than any honor, and her belly churned with rage. This had been a mistake, and she should have known better. The exact responsibility of the mistake wasn’t yet clear to her.
Elise accepted the frothy dessert her mother had prepared in their honor that very afternoon. There was that word again. Honor. Elise wanted to throw her portion right at someone’s thick head and gripped the edge of the table until the impulse passed. Ross had participated in the conversation, but Elise had felt his eyes on her much of the time and picked up on the tension in his voice. She wasn’t looking forward to the inevitable chat before bed, but by then, surely she would know what she was going to say, and do.
They all sat around in the small living room after the meal once the dishes were stacked in the dishwasher. The men had gone outside to look at some piece of equipment in the back of Stan’s truck while the women cleaned up. It struck Elise as so markedly different than the life she lived with Ross. They shared the scut work, as Ross referred to it, but they both slipped into the roles that existed in her parents’ home, even in this short period of time. Her mom took care of the house, and her dad made sure he made enough money to provide for them. Women’s work and men’s work. The men’s work had included a showdown with the man who had harmed one of their women. God. Her whole body vibrated with tension, and she heard herself refusing to play their traditional card games, pleading a headache. That seemed to be a signal to everyone. Cindy made her husband, Bruce, haul her up from her chair and took her leave as if it were her last, announcing that he could drive her home and get her car the next day. Stan and Kathy soon followed, with Kathy hugging Elise and promising to see her before they left. Elise said good night to her parents, forcing herself to brush a kiss across their respective cheeks while avoiding a hug. Ross rose with her and said his own good nights and followed her down the hallway.
Elise detoured into the bathroom and used the facilities before brushing her teeth. She ignored Ross, standing patiently in the hall and walked to their room while he went into the bathroom. She found one of her old nightgowns, tucked away in a bottom drawer, smelling like fabric that had been washed and put away a long time ago. She wore nothing to bed with Ross unless she didn’t feel well or was menstruating, or he asked her to put on some specific lingerie, but she needed something between them tonight. She climbed into the double bed and pulled the covers up and waited. Ross came in, his hair damp from his ablutions, his shirt unbuttoned to his waist. She looked at his face searchingly and scanned his hands and the part of his chest that she could see, but saw nothing untoward. He stripped off but left his boxers on, and her heart plummeted. He had come to understand, although it remained to be seen if they were on the same page. After turning on the little bedside light, Ross flipped off the one overhead, and got into bed. The size of it forced close proximity, and Elise sat up and curled her legs under her in order to face him, while he leaned back against the headboard. The silence lengthened and pulsed between them. Ross finally spoke.
“I’m sorry, Elise. Can you forgive me?”
She had expected many things, but not that. The words tumbled from her lips. “You aren’t a stupid man, Ross! Well, my dad isn’t either, but he’s prone to blindly following the customs around here. You aren’t, though! What in God’s name were you thinking?”
Ross shrugged, although his eyes had narrowed during her tirade. The slight movement infuriated her, and she grabbed her pillow and flung it at him. Ross deflected it and hauled her against him by grabbing her wrist.
“I must say I like this display of temper far more than that reaction you treated me to this afternoon, Elise.”
She struggled against his grip and hissed at him. “Don’t you goddamn well minimize this, Ross, or make it even more about me. You could have been hurt, killed even. And my dad, too. Then where would I be? How could you have done that?”
He immediately softened and released her, although he stroked the back of her hand. “I’m not sure, Elise, truly. I had a couple of shots of your dad’s special brew, and we got to talking about your ex-husband, and the next thing I knew, we were tooling down the road to go and have a chat with him.”
“You drank my dad’s home brew? Oh my God. You are both insane. And my mother is worse than either of you. It must have been her darkest fantasy, because she hates Terry more than anything.”
Ross actually cut his eyes away and studied his fingertips.
“What?”
“She told us not to go, that it would upset you, and Dave pulled the man-of-the-castle thing and told her not to interfere. It inspired me, although now I realize I wasn’t firing on all cylinders, and I ignored her entreaties and went along on the mission. Your dad is quite convincing when he gets going.”
Elise felt exhausted, like her emotions had rolled her flat. She got up and went to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To see my mother. I treated her badly because she tried to exonerate you and the man who sired me. If I had the strength I’d smack you.”
Ross had the good sense not to say anything, or maybe he was too surprised.
* * * *
Elise found her mom rocking on the porch, the katydids and tree frogs making background music to the creak and thump of wood on wood. Elise curled up on the adjoining wicker settee and looked at her. Her mother made a little moue and lifted one shoulder.
“I suppose he told you.”
“Why do we have this need to take everything on ourselves, Mom? Why did you feel you needed to cover for them, make like you supported that stupid idea? What if Terry had hurt one or both? Or even called the sheriff? What would that have done to our relationship? Did you think about that?”
“I didn’t want things to screw up between you and Ross. He’s a sensible boy, and I know that if he could mess Terry up, if there came an opportunity to do it legal, or at least without real problems, he’d take it. But Dave just had to get liquored up and be the man. I can usually redirect him, but he knows more than we realized, and I think he needed to do this. He’s your dad, and he thinks he let you down.”
Elise wondere
d what else would hit her up alongside the head. “Where is he?”
“He’s lying in bed with his face to the wall. I don’t much care, although things’ll be better in the morning I expect.”
Elise stood once again and went to her parents’ room. She knocked softly and then opened the door. The light was still on, and her father rolled over to look at her, his softening torso covered by an old wifebeater shirt. Elise hated those undershirts, because her dad would never raise a hand to his wife, and it was like false advertising. He looked terribly sad, and Elise crossed over to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Daddy? What do you want to know?”
“I think I know too much, my girl. I thought Terry Cooper was a good man. Your mother tried to tell me different, but I didn’t listen. I wanted a good match for you, and Marjorie married me when she was seventeen, so I thought it was like history repeating itself. But people talk, even them damn Coopers, and I know you was maltreated. Deviants.”
He reached to the night table and fumbled to pull a tissue out of the box that sat there, honking into it before wiping his eyes.
“That man of yours now, that Ross, well, I don’t think I’m wrong about him, and we got to sipping, and he told me he knew what happened to you. So I got thinking and sipping some more and then we made a road trip. Your mother is real perturbed, Elise. I’m in the shit for sure.”
Elise reached to hug him, and he clung to her for a moment. Her dad wasn’t a demonstrative person, so she knew what it meant for him to hug her back.
“I’m going to go sit with mom, and maybe by tomorrow things will be okay,” she said.
“You sound just like your mom, little girl. Good night.”
Elise turned off the light as she exited the room and rejoined her mother. The bugs drove them inside within a few minutes, and they each wordlessly took a couch, dragging a couple of crocheted blankets from the chest in the corner as their bedding. She wanted things to be okay in the morning but had found out what it was to be truly vulnerable. Her life was so intertwined with Ross’s that even the idea of something happening to him had devastated her. She either had to surrender to it and accept the fact that she would have him for as long as it was meant to be, or run, and she had promised Ross to never run from him again.
Chapter Fourteen
Ross stood watching his woman sleep, her mother not two feet from her, also deep in dreamland. The dawn had broken with some really beautiful colors if Ross had been inclined to enjoy them. He had lain awake, waiting for Elise to return, and when she hadn’t done so, felt achingly empty and worried. He’d been an idiot, and there was no excuse. It had felt quite the right thing to do, going off to confront her ex, maybe punch his lights out or something equally grand.
Dave had then whispered a crucial bit of information to him after dinner, a meal he hadn’t tasted, information that would have been good to know before they took that little drive. Two pieces of information, actually. The Cooper clan apparently hung out in large, nasty groups and was usually armed. Christ. No wonder Elise had had a break down, and then he had tried to minimize things. His Dom persona wouldn’t do him any good this time. In fact, she might yet whip his ass. A slight sound behind him caught his attention, and he turned to see Dave entering the room. His face wore the same expression Ross had seen reflected back when he shaved that morning, kind of a cross between sheepish and worried. Dave motioned toward the kitchen, and Ross obligingly followed. The older man lowered his voice and suggested they put some breakfast together.
Dave had clearly rarely fended for himself in the kitchen, and Ross was happy to carry the brunt of the effort. His future father-in-law, he hoped, managed to put coffee on while Ross located a freshly baked loaf of bread and sliced enough for four people. He scrambled some eggs and was chopping some shallots when Elise passed through the edge of his vision and he heard the bathroom door close. Dave abandoned him and rushed to the living room. Ross could hear muted voices and tried not to eavesdrop, focusing instead on setting the table while the skillet heated. Marjorie didn’t seem to have any paper towels, and so he figured they would do without napkins. He added butter to sizzle in the pan and when it melted folded in the eggs. Dave hadn’t finished hacking up the ham, so Ross cut a few more pieces and arranged them on a plate while the bread toasted. He surveyed his efforts with pride, except he was the only one there to appreciate them. He went in search of his woman and her parents. Dave and Marjorie had disappeared, and their bedroom door was closed. He continued down the hall and found that door shut as well. He raised his hand to knock and then manned up. The knob turned under his fingertips, and he breathed a little sigh of relief, only to choke on it. Elise stood by the bed, with a scrap of lace in her hand, naked in the rays of the rising sun, all the curves and hollows of her body caressed in gold, her hair flowing around her shoulders like molten waves of that precious metal. She held out her arms, and he went to her, and was enfolded. His head felt light, but so did his heart. He was never going to let her go.
“I’m so sorry, Elise,” he began, but she pressed a finger to her lips.
“It’s done. Over. I’m not going anywhere, Ross. And you won’t be stupid again.”
He dropped his hands to her buttocks and stroked them in warning. She made a small sound of laughter, and he kissed her, relishing the feel of her against him, wishing he, too, was naked. He set her away from him and reached to pull off his shirt.
“Not likely, buddy,” she said. “I smell coffee. I’m starving, and even the thought of sex with you isn’t going to get in my way.”
Ross remembered the eggs and nearly ran back to the kitchen. The charring was fairly insignificant, and he figured Elise could pick the little pieces out. He buttered the cold, cardboard-like toast and poured her a cup of coffee. She soon came out to join him, stopping only to pull some fabric napkins from a drawer. She devoured most everything he put on her plate, and Ross figured he could take a few thousand more breakfasts like this one.
When Dave and Marjorie finally emerged, he and Elise had cleared the table and were doing the dishes together. Dave raised an eyebrow but said nothing, merely going to make more coffee and toast while Marjorie watched his efforts with a patient look on her face.
“We’re heading back today, Mom,” Elise said.
Ross controlled his start of surprise. He thought they were leaving the following day, but he didn’t say anything. Neither did Marjorie. She merely nodded, and then suggested they stop by the hardware store to say good-bye to Kathy, and would probably find Cindy at home, seeing as the girl didn’t go far these days.
“Let me know when she has the baby, Mom. Maybe we can slip back to see the little one.”
Ross wondered if he had woken up on a different planet. Something had happened while he lay awake overnight. Something that had made his woman become so casual about returning home again so soon, and Elise would be sharing that something on their drive home. And then she would take over the wheel while he had a nap. He couldn’t remember ever being so tired.
“We’ll bring pictures up to the wedding, Elise,” Marjorie promised. “I expect she’ll have delivered by then.”
They packed in companionable silence, and Ross hauled their bags out to the car while Elise took a last look around for anything they might have forgotten during their brief stay. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she hadn’t asked about her ex-husband or what had happened when he and Dave got to the station. She clearly had zero interest in Cooper, or whatever had transpired, because both he and her dad had come home unscathed. Ross felt blessed. It was probably best not to tell her that the station had been closed on account of a funeral, and that he and Dave had taken a little rest in the truck while they waited in vain for someone to return and open up. It was Marjorie’s frantic call to his cell that had jolted him awake and back to reality, and it was only Elise’s obedience in always having her cell with her and charged up that he had been able to head her off. He wouldn’t risk her arriving
and then Cooper, any Cooper, showing up, because it would have happened that way. He just knew it would have. He really wished he hadn’t given her reason to worry herself half to death either.
Dave and Marjorie accompanied Elise out to the car, and he exchanged a hearty handshake and shoulder thump with Dave and a hug with Marjorie. They pulled out of the yard to waves and exhortations to drive safely. With every mile, more of his Elise returned, although with overtones of the woman he had learned about in her childhood home.
“What happened back there, honey?”
She didn’t prevaricate. “I found out how like my mom I am, and that we both take on stuff we don’t own. And I think I cleared up something between me and my dad. I also realized you own my soul, and I have to trust you not to steal it and break me forever. I needed to leave, because I can’t take anymore epiphanies right now.”
Ross drove in silence until his throat unclogged. He felt all-powerful and totally humble at the same time which shouldn’t even be possible. “I’ll take you and keep you safe, Elise. I promised before not to abuse you, assault you, or cheat on you, honey, and I’ll add to that by promising never to put you in a position where you think I deliberately put myself at risk because of you.”
Her whispered thanks made his eyes sting, and he pulled over so that she could take the wheel and he could close them against the intense emotion. The wedding was on, and the date was only three weeks away. Ross had planned a collaring ceremony at the Club, too, although not of the intense nature he had originally envisioned. He hadn’t ever touched a whip to Elise’s skin and was sadly out of practice as well. He wondered about using a flogger and made a mental note to talk with Patrick about his thoughts. Patrick could always be relied upon for clarification.
Vulnerable [Club Pleasure 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 11