Blame It on Your Heart (17 page)

It definitely couldn't be because of the way JT pulled her close enough so the soft curves of her breasts brushed against him. At the sight, Damon's own skin tingled with the memory of how those same soft curves felt pressed against his chest minus the impediment of clothing.

Warm, smooth, her hard little nipples pressing against him.

"So there's nothing going on with you two?" Dylan's gravelly voice pulled him from his self-torture, and he tore his gaze away from the pair.

From the moment Dylan had heard about Ellie's return to Big Timber, he'd bombarded Damon with questions about her return and warnings not to let himself get sucked back under her spell.

It was easy enough to ignore in emails—the only way they could reliably communicate when Dylan was overseas. Not so easy when he was in the passenger seat of Damon's truck. They'd no sooner pulled out of the parking lot of the Billings airport than Dylan had started grilling him about Ellie.

"There's nothing going on," Damon had said, rationalizing that he wasn't lying to his brother, because truly, at that moment, nothing was going on and hadn't been for a week.

The fact that he thought about her constantly and tortured himself by mentally replaying every touch, every taste, every second he'd had her naked was none of his younger brother's business.

Dylan had tried every angle to try to get Damon to slip up and admit something, but Damon's answer hadn't changed. "There's nothing going on. And even if there were, she's only staying in Big Timber until she can get her shit together and move on to bigger and better things."

At the time, he was proud of himself for keeping the bitterness out of his tone, though he suspected he hadn't convinced Dylan.

"Nope," he said now and drained his second beer.

"If there's nothing going on," Dylan said, "how come you're looking at JT like you want to nail his ball sack to a barn door and leave him hanging there for a few days?"

"I'm not," Damon said, but even as the words left his mouth he became conscious of his tight frown, the narrowing of his eyes and the tension in the set of his mouth. He forced his features to relax and turned to his brother. "And I've wasted enough time talking and thinking about Ellie Tanner. It's your first night back—let's have some fun."

He turned his back to Ellie and JT and made his way to the other side of the room. He spotted Brady, who was hanging with Sadie over by the jukebox and made his way over.

"How's your dad doing?" Dylan asked Sadie. "I heard you gave up a good gig in San Francisco
to move back and take care of him."

Sadie opened her mouth to answer, but before she could get a word out Damon was hit in the chest by a sturdy female body topped with a tumble of curly blonde hair.

Even without seeing her face, Damon knew from the too sweet vanilla-scented perfume that it was Amy.

"I'm so psyched you guys are here," she slurred, her smile overly bright. "You never come out anymore." She swatted her arm at Damon's chest and stumbled forward so he was force to catch her.

She took the opening and looped her arms around his neck. "Come dance with me," she said, backing toward the dance floor, her hands locked in a death grip around his neck.

He was about to reach back and untangle her fingers when he spotted Ellie out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting back at the table with JT, sipping at her drink and apparently deep in conversation with the other man. But for a split second her gaze flicked to him. He caught and held her stare, and for a split second he saw his own jealousy and hurt reflected there.

He curved his hands around Amy's waist and followed her onto the floor. It didn't take more than a few awkward steps to realize Amy had started celebrating much earlier in the day. He wasn't so much dancing with her as holding her up, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as they swayed slowly as the other couples swung and spun around them.

"Maybe you should sit down," Damon suggested and supported her as she wobbled on high heels over to a nearby chair. Signaling a waitress, he ordered them both glasses of ice water. "Drink this," he ordered when the waitress returned.

Amy took a sip and grimaced. "I don't feel so hot. I think I better go." She stood, swaying a few seconds before she started awkwardly for the door.

Damon shrugged and was about to go find Dylan when he saw Amy dig her keys out of her pocket. "Wait, you're not driving are you?"

"I'm fine," Amy said with a dismissive hand gesture. "I only had like, two drinks."

"Yeah, and I'm the pope. No way you're driving home."

Since this was Big Timber, he couldn't exactly call her a taxi. And none of the people she'd met here were inclined to leave so early, nor were they in much better shape than she was.

Damon could only hope they waited to sober up a little before heading home. As far as finding Amy a ride, apparently he was it.

Chapter 10

Ellie watched as Damon wrapped his arm tightly around Amy's waist and walked over to where Dylan and Sadie were stationed against the wall next to the jukebox.

Though the noise and the distance didn't allow her to hear their conversation, it was clear from the way Damon bent and gave Sadie a kiss on the cheek, then caught Dylan in a one-armed hug that he was leaving.

With Amy.

There was a roaring in her ears as her stomach sank to somewhere around her knees as she watched him turn toward the door.

JT twirled her around, and she stumbled, transfixed, unable to look away from the sight of Damon leaving the bar with another woman. On his way out he ran into Laura and Mark, said goodbye to them too. All the while Amy was wrapped around him like a python.

As Damon leaned in to hear something Laura was saying, his head turned in her direction. For a split second, his eyes met hers.

She immediately whipped her head in the opposite direction, praying the look on her face didn't reveal the shock and hurt reverberating through her.

"You okay?" JT asked as the jukebox went momentarily quiet.

Ellie took a deep breath and reached back to all the times she'd had to keep her cool when reporters were shoving cameras in her face, asking offensive and obnoxious questions. Tapping into the last of her reserves, she forced her expression into an easy smile that revealed none of her turmoil. "Of course," she said, a little too brightly. But good enough to fool JT, who immediately lost the worried creases in his forehead. "I'm just a little thirsty. Mind if we sit this one out?"

JT was happy to oblige. He escorted Ellie to their table to join Laura and Mark and then went off to the bar to get the requested drink.

"Amy looks like she's put on weight," Laura said as soon as Ellie sat down.

Ellie slanted her friend an arch look. Bless her.

"Didn't seem to matter to Damon," Mark pointed out and took a pull on his beer. "What's that they say, all cats are gray in the dark?"

"Mark!" Laura gave him an elbow in the ribs and shot a meaningful look at Ellie.

"Oh, I don't care," Ellie said quickly. "Damon and me, that was so long ago." Like a week. "It doesn't matter to me who he goes home with."

Except for the part where the thought of him alone with Amy—or any other woman for that matter— stripping off her clothes, touching her all the ways he had touched Ellie, letting her touch him, made her want to throw up or punch something. Maybe both.

"Amy's really drunk, and Damon was worried about her driving home," Laura said and gave Ellie a pat on the knee. "You know Damon, he always has to be the hero."

"Whatever he does, it's his own business," Ellie said, feeling like her face was going to crack if her smile got any wider.

Luckily JT showed up at that moment with the drinks. Ellie eagerly grabbed her vodka and cranberry and drained half of it in one gulp. Ignoring the sting of jealousy stabbing at her gut, Ellie summoned up her best social butterfly facade, the one she'd perfected at all the parties and dinners with Troy's clients. After spending hours of her life bored out of her mind or appalled at how insufferable some of Troy's associates and their wives were, surely she could pull it together enough to convince her friends she was having fun.

She forced herself to seem interested as JT talked to Mark and Laura about the challenges of being in the hospitality business in a fluctuating economy. She laughed an almost genuine laugh as she and Laura shared some of their children’s wilder antics.

And for the next hour she made sure no one had a clue that the entire time her stomach was churning, her brain torturing her with images of what Damon was likely doing to Amy that very second.

"Oh no!" Laura's wail cut through the din.

"What is it?" Mark and Ellie said in unison.

"Lucy threw up all over my mom," Laura said mournfully, setting down her cell phone and reaching for her purse. "We need to go."

Mark groaned and looked at his watch. "It's barely after ten. Can't your mom clean it up?"

Laura gave him an exasperated look. "You know Mom's policy. She doesn't do vomit. We're lucky she even changes diapers."

In spite of her foul mood, Ellie couldn't stifle a smile. She could easily imagine Patricia Gallagher making such a declaration in her firm, no-nonsense tone. Laura's mother was always immaculately put together, her clothes and house spotless, not a hair out of place.

"I imagine after raising three kids she's dealt with her share of unpleasant excretions," Mark grumbled as he drained his beer and set the bottle down with a thunk.

"Exactly why she doesn't want to deal with them now," Laura said.

Ellie gathered up her little clutch and stood as well. "Since you're my ride, I guess that means I'm going, too."

"Oh no," Laura said with a stricken look. "You should stay. I'm sure you can get a ride ho—"

"I'm happy to give you a ride home, Ellie," JT said before Laura could even finish.

"It's so far out of your way," Ellie demurred, hoping her delight at having an excuse to leave didn't show.

"It's a half an hour, no problem," JT insisted. "It's no hardship to spend more time alone with you," he said with a smile that should have made her weak in the knees, if only she weren't so stupidly hung up on Damon.

Why not go with JT?
an evil little voice urged her.
Maybe prove to yourself that Damon's hold on you isn't so damn unbreakable.

The thought was extinguished as quickly as it formed. Even if she was the kind of person who could try to drown her heartache in meaningless sex, she wasn't enough of a bitch to lead JT on.

He was a nice, smart, hot guy. A true catch, and he deserved a girl who was happy to be with him. Not someone doing everything she could to forget someone else.

"I really should go. I have to get up with Anthony and I have a lot of work to catch up on tomorrow."

JT nodded but didn't bother to keep the disappointment off his face as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and wandered back onto the dance floor.

Ellie looked for Molly to say goodbye and spotted her out on the dance floor, two stepping with Dylan, a big grin stretching her mouth. Then, as she watched, Brady tapped Dylan on the shoulder and stepped in, a wicked grin flashing white through his dark stubble. Molly's smile dropped as he pulled her tightly against him. He bent his head, and Ellie wondered what he said to make her sister's jaw drop as she tried to jerk from his arms.

For a split second she considered interrupting and coming to Molly's rescue. Then thought better of it. After all these years living in Big Timber and chasing the same guy, Molly's life could use a little shaking up.

Who knew? Maybe she'd get lucky. At least one of them should have fun tonight.

###

Damon had no sooner pulled out of the parking lot than Amy suddenly seemed a lot more sober. And by the time he pulled up in front of her place, he knew he'd been had.

"Why don't you come in?" Amy said. She leaned across the seat, her arms braced to showcase the ample cleavage displayed by the deep V-neck of her sleeveless dress.

"I've gotta get up early tomorrow," he said tightly, pissed that he'd let himself get conned.

"Come on," she said, scooting close enough to rest her hand on his thigh. "I bet it won't take us that long." Though it was dim in the car, there was no missing the seductive slant to her smile.

His refusal was on the tip of his tongue, but he paused a second. Tried to imagine what it would be like to take Amy up on her offer. Press his lips to hers, slide his tongue inside her mouth, run his hands over her naked body before taking everything she was so blatantly offering.

But all he could think of was the stricken expression on Ellie's face when she'd seen him leaving with Amy.

At the moment, he'd felt a petty sense of triumph. Served her right. She was the one who'd spent most of the evening practically dry humping JT.

She was the one who was going to leave.

He should be glad she felt like crap, watching him leave like that. Now his misery had company.

But now he just felt shitty. For hurting her. For unwittingly giving Amy the impression that he was remotely interested.

For leaving Ellie there in the arms of JT, who was all too ready to offer up a shoulder to cry on or anything else Ellie needed or wanted.

Amy's hand moved toward the inside of his thigh, then slid up to his crotch.

Damon didn't stop her, halfway curious to see what would happen. Halfway hoping he'd feel a little blood flow to his groin. Not that he had any intention of acting on it, but it would be nice to have some reassurance that Ellie hadn't completely ruined him.

Amy's palm moved the last few inches, now blatantly cupping his cock and balls through the worn fabric of his jeans. Even when she gave a little squeeze, there was nothing.

Amy sat back with an exasperated sigh. "Are you kidding me? I can't believe you're still hung up on her!"

Damon didn't bother pretending to not know whom she was talking about. "It's that obvious?"

"It's all over your face," Amy said softly, sadly. "She dumped you on your ass, married another man, and had a kid," Amy added accusingly.

His fingers curled around the steering wheel in a vice grip. "I know what Ellie's been up to."

"And yet you still can't get it up for anyone else if she's anywhere nearby!"

He didn't disagree. He'd barely looked at another woman since Ellie had come back to town.

"And after all that, the way you look at her..." Amy’s voice trailed off. "Do you know what I'd give to have someone look at me like that?" she said almost to herself.

Damon felt his heart tug at her wistful tone. For all of her brash approach and outward bravado, Damon had caught enough glimpses over the years to know Amy's bold facade masked the same insecurities as everyone. He reached out and patted her knee, left bare by the short skirt of her dress. "Eventually someone will."

"Sure," she said tightly and opened the door. "Anyway, thanks for the ride home."

Damon watched her go up the walk and waited for the door to close behind her before he pulled away. If it was so obvious to Amy that he was hung up on Ellie, he wondered if Ellie had figured it out herself.

Or was she too busy fucking JT to worry about how Damon felt?, he wondered bitterly.

He'd no sooner completed the thought than he was turning his truck in the direction of Ellie's mom's house, opposite the direction he should be headed. He parked the truck down the block to wait for her to come home. He wasn't sure what he would do if she drove up with JT.

Or worse, didn't come home at all.

###

The familiar sound of the screen being popped out of its frame rang through the darkness. Ellie snapped on the light on her bedside table, calling herself ten kinds of fool as her a thrill shot through her.

He left the bar with another woman and now he's visiting you like a cheap booty call.

She shoved back the covers and climbed out of bed just as his dark head appeared through the window.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" she said in a harsh whisper.

He ignored her and shoved his chest and shoulders through. He swung one leg, then the other over the bottom of the window. "You really need to ask?"

He sauntered over to her like he owned the place. She took a step back, then another until she was backed against the closed door of her closet.

He kept coming, not stopping until he was so close she could feel the heat of his body rolling off him. Anger at his incredible gall mingled with the unsatisfied desire that had tortured her over the last few days. "What's the matter, Amy wouldn't let you sleep over?"

"I didn't make it past her front door."

"So you fucked her in the car then?"

"She wanted to." Fury burst in her chest, turning her vision red. "But I couldn't so much as bring myself to kiss her. You want to know why?"

Ellie pressed her lips together, refusing to let the emphatic "yes" escape.

He leaned in, insinuating his knee between her clenched thighs, and brought his hands up to cup her face. "Because you've fucking ruined me, Ellie. I can't imagine kissing a mouth and not tasting you, I can't imagine thinking about shoving my dick inside a woman and not feeling your tight, wet pussy clenching around me."

His words sent a fresh thrill through her. He leaned down to kiss her. She turned her head away at the last minute, telling herself if she had a shred of dignity she wouldn't let him get away with this.

"You think you can barely talk to me for days, and then you get to come and fuck me because you feel like it? You can't run hot and cold like this," her words trailed off on a sigh as his lips and teeth closed tenderly on the skin of her throat.

"There's nothing cold in me when it comes to you," he said, his whisper muffled as he slid his mouth back up her neck, across her cheek.

Against her will she felt her hands sliding up his back, clutching at the thin cotton of his shirt. "If I had a brain in my head I'd tell you to go fuck yourself," she gasped as his knee pushed further, until the hard muscle of his thigh was riding high between her legs.