Blame It on Your Heart (11 page)

According to Molly, Sadie had even done some modeling in Denver while she was in college at University of Colorado, using the money to start her wildly successful business building fashion-focused apps for mobile devices. Fortunately she could run her business from anywhere, which came in handy when she was called back to Big Timber to care for her ailing father.

Josh, bless his clueless, narcissistic heart, didn't pick up on Ellie's sarcasm. "A lot of people don't think of insurance as exciting," he said earnestly, "but seriously, you put together the wrong policy for a client, it's scary business." He took long drink of his beer as though even the thought of all that excitement made him thirsty.

"Right," Ellie said and sipped at her wine. Josh continued to speak, gesturing wildly with his hands. She watched as he wordlessly held his empty cup out to Molly, dumbfounded when her sister automatically took the cup and trotted off in the direction of the keg.

"What the hell?" she whispered to Sadie, who crossed her long bare arms over her chest and watched her friend's retreating back with a resigned expression on her face. Molly had always been willing to do whatever it took to keep Josh happy and interested, but this was going too far.

"Tell me about it," Sadie said out of the side of her mouth. "I think she thinks if she turns into June Cleaver he'll stop postponing the wedding."

Ellie's reply was cut off by a masculine voice behind her rasping, "Hey pretty ladies, how about a taste of my big juicy sausage?"

She couldn't stifle a laugh when she saw Brady's devilish grin, his eyebrows arched in an exaggerated leer. He held a platter of sliced grilled sausage out for the guests to sample.

Ellie waved him off and so did Sadie. Brady slung his arm around Sadie's shoulder. "Come on, sexy Sadie, you know you want some. You know you want to say yes."

Sadie giggled and playfully pushed him away.

"Any woman who would say yes to you would have to be insane," Molly snapped as she reappeared at Josh's side.

"There must be a lot of insane women out there then, because a lot of them have said yes," Brady replied, an edge to his voice that belied his teasing demeanor.

Molly's mouth pulled in a brief moue of distaste before stretching into a smile as she turned to Josh. "Here you go, honey," she said, offering him the beer.

Ellie wondered if anyone else noticed the way the muscles in Brady's thick forearms tightened with tension.

Josh took the beer without so much as looking at Molly and continued his conversation.

Molly's smile froze solid, her attention fixed on Josh as she avoided eye contact with anyone.

Brady looked like he wanted to punch someone. "I could use a drink too. Join me?" he said to Sadie.

As the two walked off, Ellie moved closer to her sister, aching at the hurt she saw behind her sister's too-bright smile. Though she, as much as anyone, understood how humiliating it was for the man you cared about to publicly mistreat you, she didn't dare say anything. She knew Molly, knew the way she worked, and right now she was too invested in her role as the ecstatic bride to be to let anyone question her choice in mates.

"Mommy!"

Ellie turned at the sound of Anthony's voice, relieved for the distraction. "Hey honey." Anthony barreled through the crowd, trailed by one of Janelle's cousins.

"Mommy, Aunt Molly, we found a dead snake," Anthony said breathlessly, his dark eyes wide with excitement.

"Yeah, it was like this long," the other boy, a freckle face with curly brown hair, stretched held his spread hands to demonstrate.

"No it was like this big," Anthony flung his arms wide, clipped Josh's beer cup and sent it flying into the air.

The contents of which splashed down the front of Ellie's shirt. Startled, she lost her grip on her wine cup and added that to the boozy mess down her front. "Sorry Mommy! I didn't mean to—"

"What the hell!" Josh yelled.

Anthony's eyes went wide, his bottom lip started to shake.

"Ease off Josh, it was an accident," Molly snapped, and bent to pull Anthony into her arms before Ellie could move. Ellie was happy to see that Molly would stand up to Josh for Anthony's sake, despite her earlier doormat demeanor.

"Come on boys," Molly said, taking the other boy by the hand. "Let's go hit the cookie tray while Anthony's mommy cleans up."

They all headed toward the house, and while Molly and the boys peeled off at the dessert table, Ellie continued inside.

There she found Adele and Vivian in the kitchen giggling as they sipped at plastic cups full of wine.

"Can either of you point me to the bathroom?" Ellie asked.

"Around the corner to your right, dear," Adele said.

"If that's occupied there are two more upstairs," Vivian called after her.

Finding the downstairs bathroom occupied, Ellie hurried up the stairs, marveling at how beer and wine could taste so delicious, but smell so bad when it was soaking your clothes and hair.

There was another bathroom off the upstairs hallway, between the two bedrooms. It, too, was occupied, she found to her frustration.

If there was another one upstairs, it had to be attached to the master bedroom.

Damon's bedroom.

Chapter 6

She was only anxious to rinse out her shirt before the wine stain set in, Ellie told herself firmly as she started toward the bedroom at the end of the hall. She was not at all curious to see what Damon's bedroom looked like.

The door was slightly ajar. She pushed it open slowly, almost warily, as though she was afraid he was going to jump out at her.

Or worse, she was going to discover Damon and Amy doing the nasty on the king size wood frame bed that dominated the room.

Which was a ridiculous thought, considering she'd seen both of them over by the barbecue, Amy watching adoringly as Damon flipped a rack of ribs.

She went to the large master bathroom and shut the door. She turned on the water, took off her shirt and put it in the sink to soak. As she worked the thin material with her fingers, she couldn't help noticing that the bathroom was beautifully finished.

Gray slate tiles marbled with ribbons of rust and gold tiled the floor and the enormous glassed in shower. The vanity too was topped with a single thick slab. Rough edged and rock hard, it suited the man who lived here.

She lifted the shirt from the water, wrung it out and held it up in front of her. The wine had mostly come out. She sniffed and caught a faint whiff of beer, but at least it didn't smell like it had been soaking in a keg.

She took a plush green towel from a rack, laid it out on the counter spread the shirt on top. She started to roll it up in a cylinder to blot out the worst of the water. Suddenly the door flung open. Ellie instinctively grabbed the towel burrito and held it to her chest as she whirled around to face the intruder.

"I'm sorry I didn't realize—" Damon froze in the act of backing out of the room when he saw his bathroom's occupant.

His lips parted in surprise. "Sorry, I just came up to get some sunscreen." He trailed off, his eyes flaring with heat as they roamed over the bare skin of her chest, shoulders, and stomach.

"And I was just rinsing out my shirt," she said, her skin prickling with heat. "I'll get out of your way." She made to push past him, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"Do you mind?" she said tightly and glared up at him.

He reached behind him, pushed the door shut, and leaned his back against it. "Do I mind finding a half-naked woman in my bathroom?" he said. "Hell no."

She heard the metallic snick of the lock and then he folded his arms across his chest, as though daring her to try to get past him.

"Come on Damon, stop messing around," she said as the temperature in the room seemed to soar another twenty degrees.

"But Ellie, messing around with me used to be your favorite thing."

She felt her pulse jump at his gently teasing tone, the warm glint in his eye and the quirk of his mouth. So different from the cold, distant manner she'd come to expect from him.

So much like the Damon she'd known, who'd loved her, teased her, lusted after her.

Who, to his point, she'd absolutely loved to mess around with.

Between her legs she felt a rush of wet heat, her body's reaction to the memory of exactly what all that messing around included. She was glad she still clutched the towel to her chest otherwise he would have seen the way her nipples had drawn into sharp points against the thin satin of her bra.

"What about your girlfriend?" she asked, trying to pull herself back to the present.

"I don't have a girlfriend," he said. He pushed away from the wall and took a step toward her.

Ellie took a step back. "Amy seems to be under the impression that you do."

He took another step forward. "I took her out to dinner a couple times and now she corners me every chance she gets. Doesn't make her my girlfriend." He cocked a dark eyebrow. "You jealous?"

She swallowed hard and backed up another step, stopped short as her butt hit the cold rock countertop of the vanity. "No."
Then why does the thought of him even taking her out for a drink make you want to punch something?
"But I think I better go before we do something we both regret."

He closed the distance, the look on his face making her feel like a mouse trying to hide from a striking hawk. "Trust me, Ellie," he said, so close she could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek. "I won't regret a thing."

Before she could protest his lips closed over hers, his fingers threading through her hair to hold her still for his kiss. He took advantage of her surprised gasp, thrusting his tongue inside to tangle with hers.

The taste, the heat, the feel of him sent heat sizzling through her veins, pooling between her legs. Her body came instantly to life at the familiar feel of him.

Her towel-wrapped shirt tumbled to the floor, forgotten as she twined her arms eagerly around his neck. It was as though the years had fallen away and she was seventeen again. Unable to resist him, her tongue thrusting hungrily against his as every cell throbbed with need.

His hand slid down her chest to cup her breast, his thumb and forefinger pinching at the erect tip. Ellie moaned into his mouth, her own hands running eagerly up under the hem of his T-shirt.

Her palms met hot, smooth skin and rippling muscles. His groan of pleasure vibrated through her, and the knot of desire at her core pulled almost painfully tight.

She felt him tug the silky cup of her bra aside, and he lifted his mouth from hers. He bent his dark head, and a small voice in her head tried to convince her to stop this before it went any farther.

Then his lips closed over her nipple, sucking hard, and any though of stopping fled as the jolt of pleasure hit her.

Clutching his shoulders, she didn't protest when he lifted her butt up onto the countertop and shoved his hips between her parted knees. He took her mouth again and settled against her so she could feel the rock hard bulge straining against the fly of his shorts. Her body thrilled at the evidence that he was just as turned on as she was.

One hand cupped her breast while the other slid up her thigh, dragging the hem of her short skirt with it. Then his fingers were between her thighs, tugging the thin fabric of her panties to slide against the moist folds of her sex.

"Oh, Ellie girl, I always loved how you got so wet for me."

He kissed her harder, more hungrily, as his fingers slid against the firm bud of her clit. Then down to thrust inside. She gave a hiss of pleasure, her hips rocking eagerly against his hand.

"And so tight," he murmured. In and out went his fingers, in a maddening rhythm. Then he started with his thumb, tracing lazy circles around her clit.

Every sinew in her body tightened with pleasure. Straining, reaching, so close—

"Mommy!" the sound of Anthony's voice, combined with the rattling of the doorknob was like a bucket of ice water.

She jerked herself out of Damon's hold and frantically pushed her skirt back into place. "I'll be out in a second honey!"

"Ellie," Damon said softly.

"Don't!" she whispered harshly, thankful for the interruption as the reality of what she'd nearly done came crashing down on her. "Don't say anything. Don't let him know you're in here."

She smoothed her hair and started for the door, freezing when his hand wrapped around her upper arm. "Let me go. Stop it!" she shout whispered, slapping at his other hand as it reached for her chest.

It took her a few seconds to realize he was tugging the cup of her bra back over her breast. He lingered, caressing the full inner curve with the backs of his fingers.

It took every shred of restraint not to take his hand and shove it back between her legs and finish what he'd started. If it had been anyone other than her own five-year-old son waiting outside the door she might have.

Cursing her body's ridiculous, uncontrollable response to Damon even after all these years, she bent and grabbed her shirt off the floor. She pulled it clumsily over her head and motioned for Damon to move where Anthony wouldn't see him.

As she reached for the door knob he once again stayed her with his hand on her arm. "This isn't over, Ellie."

She pulled away and opened the door, hoping her face didn't betray the fact that she was strung tight as a bow string with unfulfilled need.

"Mommy!" Anthony flung himself into her with such force he almost knocked her down.

"He got worried when we couldn't find you," Molly said from the doorway. "See, buddy, I told you she wouldn't leave without you."

"Ever since Troy..." she said, all thoughts of Damon momentarily forgotten, her heart squeezing as she looked into her son's teary face, "He gets anxious if we're out somewhere and he can't find me right away." She gave him another tight squeeze and pushed back to give him a big smile. "Now let's go back outside and see if we can find something to eat. I'm starving." Eating was, in fact, the farthest thing from her mind, but every second they spent in the room increased the risk that Anthony, or God forbid Molly, would discover Damon had been in that bathroom with her.

"You okay?" Molly asked as they stepped out onto the patio. "You look a little...frazzled."

Frazzled didn't even begin to describe the tight ache suffusing her body, making her feel like her skin was two sizes too small as every nerve ending thrummed uncomfortably with awareness. "Having a beer dumped down your front isn't exactly relaxing," she said. She reached into one of the ice-filled beverage buckets and helped herself to a bottle of water, hoping it would help douse the heat radiating from her core, threatening to burn her alive.

"I made Josh apologize to Anthony for yelling at him," Molly said as she poured two glasses of white wine and handed one to Ellie. Anthony, meanwhile, helped himself to what Ellie suspected was his dozenth Sprite of the day.

Ellie thanked her, though she didn't think it said much about Josh that he had to be told to apologize to a small child. It certainly didn't bode well for his future parenting skills.

As she started to follow Molly across the lawn she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye.

Damon.

Her skin prickled with awareness. Though sunglasses shielded his eyes, she could feel his gaze like as it ran over her. Lingering on her lips, on her breasts, between her legs.

Everywhere he'd touched just moments ago.

She forced herself to keep moving, to keep her gaze from straying back to him. Somehow she made it through the rest of the party, catching up with old friends, all the while feeling the force of his stare never losing track of her.

This isn't over.
His whisper echoed in her head.

He was wrong. It was wrong. She counted herself lucky that Anthony had interrupted when he had, saving her from doing something so colossally stupid.

So what if at the feel of Damon's hands on her skin, the taste of his tongue on hers, she'd felt like she'd been awakened from a long, dreamless sleep? Alive in her body in a way she hadn't been since...

Since the last time Damon touched her.

She couldn't give into the wild rush she felt in his arms. She wasn't a naive teenager without cares or responsibilities. She was a grown woman with a life to cobble back together, for her son if not for herself. She couldn't afford to let herself get swept up into a whirlwind of lingering desire and unresolved emotions that could only lead to more heartache.

It was over. It had to be.

###

What kind of creepy fucked up shit is this?
The thought popped into Damon's head in a brief moment of awareness. A split second when he was able to tear his thoughts away from the taste of Ellie, her tongue sliding eagerly against his. The hard bud of her nipple sucked between his lips, nudging eagerly against his tongue.

And the feel of her, so much better than his tortured memories. Skin as smooth as cream, soft curves yielding to his big hands, and between her legs... slick, tight heat that beckoned him to paradise.

He never should have touched her. Never should have lost control.

Ever since the morning when she'd come to his house and he'd seen the spark of desire in her eyes, flooding him with need, he'd been careful to keep his distance. Convinced that soon enough whatever she'd stirred up with her arrival in town would settle down.

Soon enough he'd be able to look at her without wanting to pin her down on the closest flat surface and shove himself as deep and as hard inside her as he could possibly go.

Then he'd found her in his bathroom, and the last of his resolve had crumbled to dust. He'd been shell-shocked by the sight of her wearing nothing but a lacy bra and floaty skirt that beckoned a man to tug it up to her waist.

The smooth bare skin of her arms, the taut plane of her belly, her long, smooth legs... One look at her and his hands had burned to touch her, all logical thought drowned out by the red haze of need that had washed over him.

Hours later, the taste of her lingered on his tongue. If he closed his eyes he could still feel the tight, wet clasp of her body around his fingers. Christ, he knew exactly how good it would feel to sink his cock into that tight heat.

That knowledge was what had him here, now, lurking like a derelict in the shadows of Ellie's back yard.