15. Ellison
Montana can’t stop lookin’ at me as we take the ATV back through the fields to the house Mason and Bodhi are renting, and it’s got nothing to do with the fact he thinks I look pretty tonight.
Which he already told me.
No, this is because he knows I’m nervous. Because despite my upbringing and my practiced bravado, I really hate social gatherings and meeting new people. Events of any kind have me donning my mask before I even step foot through the door.
It’s engrained.
Reaching over, Montana takes my hand and squeezes. “It’s not like that, Eddie.”
I’m sure he’s right, but a part of me imagined we’d just live in this little bubble, and we’d never have to socialize with anyone but each other and one or two others here and there.
The idea is completely unrealistic, but it didn’t stop me from wishing it were true. Growing up in Blackstone Falls, I didn’t fit in. People mistook my standoffish demeanor for being stuck-up or prudish when it couldn’t be further from the truth. I desperately wanted friends who didn’t care about my net worth or how I could help advance them to the next level using my family’s connections.
It was lonely—so damn lonely—and after a while I was thankful that the invitations stopped. I hated pretending, but people here just didn’t understand what my childhood was like.
What my life was like.
But not anymore.
I squeeze Montana’s hand back, acknowledging that I did hear him even if it sent me spiraling. But tonight, for him, I need to try. He missed out on a lot growing up too, and I selfishly loved that he picked me over the field parties and tractor pulls down by the lake. Sure, he dragged me out sometimes, but Montana was the guy all the guys wanted to be and all the girls wanted to be with.
But for some reason he traded all of that for me.
Parking outside the cabin, I can’t help the smile that crosses my face. Montana’s mama had paid us twenty bucks to clean this place when some of their family surprised them from out of town and needed the cabin in a hurry. It wasn’t anything crazy—just changing the linens, mopping the floors, and cleaning the bathrooms—but Mrs. Greene had been so thankful, and I’d been filled with a sort of pride I’d never experienced.
I’d earned my share of the money and it felt good.
My own mother had been properly horrified when I’d come home proud as a peacock to tell her what I’d done. My father had come to my rescue, mollifying her before pulling me aside and explaining that, like our special father-daughter dates at Boots On Bar and Grill, some things are better left unsaid.
“You ready?” Montana asks, startling me from the memory and bringing me back to the present.
“Sure I can’t convince you to go home?” I ask, biting my bottom lip and giving him a wide-eyed expression. “I’ll even show you my boobs,” I add for good measure.
His eyes drop to my chest as his mouth opens and closes before his gaze returns to mine. Turning, he jumps out of the ATV, a slew of curses leaving his kissable lips before he ducks his head and glares at me. “You got me all riled up. Now let’s go.”
“I could take care of that for you back at the?—”
“Out!” he barks, and I chuckle as I grab the tote at my feet that holds the buffalo chicken dip and crackers I whipped together. Montana said it was overkill, but it’d be a cold day in hell that I’d show up empty-handed.
The outside of the house is worn but tidy, the lap siding enduring years of Tennessee summers and just as many winters. Bright flowers line the window boxes, and a doormat sits perfectly in line with the dark blue door.
We’re halfway to the porch when said door flies open, revealing a guy much younger than Montana and me. His shaggy brown hair peeks out of his backward baseball hat, but I can’t get over how wide his smile is.
“You guys are the first ones here. Is this her? Oh man, this is so exciting.” He says everything without taking a breath before he’s bounding down the steps and wrapping me in a hug.
“Oh…um…” My eyes meet Montana’s and he shrugs, a smile playing on his lips.
“Sorry, sorry should have asked first,” the guy says, releasing me from the embrace. “I should probably be used to that considering my brother is one grumpy SOB, but the Thayers are huggers. They’re over in Clementine Creek, but I’m sure you know that. I forget where I am sometimes. I’m Mason by the way. Can I take that bag from you?”
I gape at him, my mouth opening and closing not unlike Montana’s had moments ago, but this time for an entirely different reason.
“Sure,” I say finally as my brain works through the menagerie of things I haven’t fully processed yet and relinquish the dip to our host.
“Mason, this is my best friend, Ellison. Ellison, this is Mason Amato. I told you that he and his brother run a crew for Case and Otto Thayer at Twinscapes doing landscaping.”
Mason beams with pride, and my heart warms at the sight. It’s the way he stands straighter and his shoulders roll back the slightest bit that tells me he’s proud but humble. Hardworking. I may not know him but I’ve spent my whole life reading people, and Mason Amato is one of the good ones.
“It’s really nice to meet you.”
Mason takes my hand, his boyish smile back in place. “You too. Now come on, I’ll introduce you to my brother.” Climbing the porch steps, Mason leads us inside, placing my bag on the counter before motioning around the space. “Make yourselves at home.”
The formerly dark walls have been painted lighter shades of tan and light green for the living room and kitchen respectively. It’s clean and lived in but not quite a home. There are few personal touches outside of the ones Montana’s mama would have added—decorative pillows and a soft blanket on the couch and white plates with ornate blue designs displayed above the kitchen cabinets.
It’s the home of a person detached from the space.
It’s exactly how my apartment was in Savannah. I’d been there for several years but my heart and my home had been here in Blackstone Falls, and I never felt the need to make that apartment my own.
I’m just about to ask Mason how long they’d been here when a guy emerges from the hallway, his piercing dark eyes jumping from Montana to me in a flash.
“Bodhi, this is Ellison,” Mason says with a smile, and I offer one of my own.
“It’s nice to meet you.” He nods, his blond hair cut neatly on his head. He’s bigger than Mason, a little older it seems, and not nearly as friendly.
“Don’t worry,” Mason says conspiratorially. “He’ll warm up to you, then he’s just a big teddy bear.” Bodhi grunts and mumbles something I can’t hear as Montana snickers beside me.
“Sorry we’re late,” Bea says as she bursts through the screen door, Archer blushing furiously on her heels.
“No, you’re not,” Montana says with a wink but Bea just shrugs, completely unaffected by the implication.
“You still beat Jensen,” Mason adds helpfully as he passes out drinks and plates as Bodhi pulls a couple of boxes of pizza and wings from the counter and places them on the kitchen table.
“Who beat me?” Jensen Kade asks as he steps inside with a box of something from The Poppy Seed, the bakery in Clementine Creek.
“Everyone,” Mason says with a chuckle, but I’m a little in awe of the way Jensen grew up. He is a few years older than I am, and I haven’t seen him much—or at all—since leaving here almost a decade ago.
“You’re drooling,” Montana whispers, my head whipping toward him because no I most certainly am not but I touch my hand to my lips all the same just to be sure. My best friend laughs and I want to be mad but I can’t because wow.
“Hey, Ellison, welcome home,” he says with a smile and a nod.
“Thanks, it’s good to be back,” I say, finally having found my manners. The guy who had always been good-looking grew up hot with a chiseled jawline, stunning cerulean eyes, and a dimple that is too much to take. Not to mention the way his muscles test the integrity of his shirt, leading me to believe he makes that sheriff’s uniform look damn good.
I must still be staring because in the next second, Montana’s palm is sliding down my back, and he’s not shy about the way he grabs a handful of my ass.
“Watch it,” he murmurs just low enough for me to hear, and the thrill of excitement that shoots up my spine has me blinking up at him as my lips part the slightest bit.
“Or what, Max? Are you jealous?” My words are a whisper, but his hand grips me tighter, tension and desire radiating between us like some kind of force field. All I want is to push myself flush against his body and see how long it takes him to snap.
His eyes are blazing, the flecks of gold in them utterly molten as he stares down at me. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
My retort is on the tip of my tongue as I squeeze my thighs together because gahthis is so freaking hot when Mason’s chuckle sounds around us.
“Everyone grab some food before the games start, and uh, there’s an open bedroom back there if you guys need to sort yourselves out.”
Laughter erupts around us as I try to pull back from Montana, my face heating at practically trying to dry hump him in the middle of this party.
But he doesn’t let me go.
Instead, he stares into my soul, the promise of more plain in his gaze and oh my, yes please.
“All right, Casanova, Imma steal your girl before you guys accidentally burn this place to the ground with all those fuck-me vibes about to ignite,” Bea says as she, quite literally, wedges herself between us with a saccharine smile at Montana and a wink at me.
Properly chastised, he steps back with a shake of his head like he’s trying to right himself after realizing the room had been spinning.
“I need a drink,” I tell Bea, and she snorts as she leads me toward the fridge.
“Dang girl, after that little show I need a cigarette and I don’t even smoke!”
You and me both.