Chapter 10
Hazel
Elijah’s body language tightened—a flex of his thigh against the inside of mine, a straightening of his back, a broadening of his shoulders. I wanted to set him at ease, but I didn’t really know how to do that with Dennis less than a foot from my left.
“Hey, I don’t think we’ve actually met.” He extended a hand toward Elijah.
Their grip looked firm, but not aggressive, as they shook.
“Not really, I’m Elijah.”
“Dennis. Again, I’m really sorry about my dog. Sometimes he gets away from me…”
I resisted an eye roll. Banjo needed obedience classes, but like everything else, Dennis wasn’t concerned about it.
“Please don’t worry about it,” Elijah said.
“Hi, Hazel.” Dennis gave me a sweet, boyish—almost sheepish—smile. I couldn’t tell if he was as oblivious as the rest of our group, or if he knew there was something going on between Elijah and me. Or it could just be Dennis’ innocent face.
It kinda stung that everyone assumed Elijah and I weren’t together. As if they all believed my fears—that he was too far out of my league to even consider the two of us a possibility.
But then, Shane knew Elijah and I were becoming an item—he had made it a point to warn me a few hours ago. “Be careful, Hazel. You know Elijah’s reputation… He gets off on ruining good girls like you.”
I’d been instantly infuriated, but I hadn’t been able to express it. I’d wanted to tell him that I was a grown woman—not a girl—who didn’t need his protection, and couldn’t be ruined. That he’d never talked to me before today, and we should go back to that. But what I’d actually said was, “I’m fine.”
Shaking off my irritation at myself and Shane, I asked, “Hey, Dennis, how’s your day going?”
“Good. I really liked that shirt you picked out for me.”
“You should go back and get it in a couple other colors. It looked nice on you.”
I wanted to shift my focus back to Elijah, but it felt rude and dismissive to ignore Dennis.
Elijah picked up his menu and began scanning it.
“I’ll do that.” Dennis leaned back in his chair. “You getting your usual?”
“I think so.”
“You have a usual?” Elijah looked up through his brow, his green eyes piercing. How did just one look from him quicken my heart rate?
“Kinda. This is where we eat when Dennis drives me down to get supplies. We fill his truck every couple of months.”
Some of the light in Elijah’s gaze dimmed. Possibly. Maybe nothing changed at all. Maybe I was just seeing things because I was uncomfortable. There was nothing between me and Dennis, but we did have history. But then, Elijah had a history with quite a few people in town; it was years ago, but it still existed. I was probably being quaint to think he’d be insecure about my past.
I wanted to go back to talking to him like we had before everyone interrupted, especially after he’d just opened up about his relationship with his parents. I really appreciated him sharing that with me, and I wanted to keep getting to know him better. And we would have, if the menfolk hadn’t blasted through the door and blown that plan up.
I was sitting in the middle of an incredibly uncomfortable sandwich.
We’ll have our date tonight, it’ll be okay.
“I should have driven my truck today; we could have loaded it up before I leave for my research program,” Dennis said.
“Yeah, I didn’t think about it.” I hadn’t thought about it because I’d been too excited to see Elijah try on clothes—which hadn’t happened. That was more than a little disappointing.
Dennis could be impossibly nice. He didn’t owe me anything, yet he valued doing this task that helped me. Sweat was prickling underneath my hair from the combination of guilt and awkwardness sludging through my body.
“I’ll rent something. We’ll get it taken care of,” Elijah offered.
Some of the tension in my shoulders released. The grateful smile I directed toward him was cut down by Dennis saying, “Thanks, man.”
He scratched at something on the table’s surface. “I hate feeling like I’m leaving people in the lurch.”
A muscle flexed in Elijah’s jaw.
“Hey, Denny,” Nora said from the other side of the table. “Tell me,” she paused, “again about the research you’ll be doing.”
He sat up straighter before he began his lengthy and very thorough explanation, and I watched pain seep into her dark brown eyes. I mouthed, “Thank you,” and she nodded. I’d stock the work fridge with her favorite creamer, or something. She was the best friend I could ask for. I mentally apologized for anytime I’d called her irritating—while also noting that she could be irritating on occasion. Not in that moment, though.
Nora. Was. The. Best.
I needed out of this situation.
Leaning toward Elijah, I whispered, “You know I could really go for a pretzel right now.”
“Not that hungry?” he asked.
“Not really… I’m planning on a big dinner tonight.”
His smile was enough to break me into a thousand delighted pieces. “Are you?”
“Yeah, this really cute guy offered to cook for me.”
His eyes dropped to my mouth. “Lucky guy. Let’s get you a pretzel.”
We stood, and Dennis looked up to me. “You leaving?”
“Uh…” I nodded at the confused, and slightly sad, expression on his face. How had I ended up here? Me? Of all people. Was I breaking his heart? Was that what this was? It did not fit well. It bound too tightly around my ribs.
I’m not responsible for his feelings, I coached myself. I’m not doing anything wrong by being with Elijah.
Everything with Elijah felt right. But hurting Dennis felt very wrong. The two truths walked parallel with each other. Their contradictions did not make either of them less accurate.
“Den, what is the environmental impact of this research?” Remi asked from the other side of Dennis. Remi must have snuck in with everyone, and I hadn’t even noticed.
Dennis launched back into the subject, and I made a mental note to do something nice for Remi, too.
I tried to leave the discomfort behind as Elijah and I exited into the mall, the sounds of shoppers bouncing off the tiled floors and high ceilings. It was easier to do in theory than in execution.
We ordered our pretzels and waited while the teenagers behind the counter prepared them.
I searched my mind for something to talk about, but all I could think to do was apologize. As I hadn’t done anything wrong, I didn’t want to do that.
“You helped Dennis find some clothes?” Elijah finally asked.
“I did. He’s offered up carpentry work for the auction, so I found a nice fitting flannel and khakis. It’s funny, most of these men are going to be wearing flannel.”
“It’s a good look.”
“Yeah, you were rocking the hell out of it last night,” I said to my feet, my cheeks burning.
“Thank you.” He grinned.
“I’m actually kinda disappointed. I thought I’d see you try stuff on…” I trailed off as my tongue grew too large for my mouth, wondering if it was a weird thing to say. I really wanted to get back into our flirty rhythm, and this suddenly felt like the wrong route. “Of course, you don’t need to. I mean, you look great in what you’re wearing right now—not that that’s surprising. You always look great.”
He looked down at his fashionably loose-fitting T-shirt and jeans as I continued to ramble about subjects that no longer seemed relevant.
My words cut off completely when he took a step closer. The heat of his skin pushed back the chill of the mall air. His low rumble lit sparks in my brain. “If you want me to try something on, all you have to do is ask. I’ll give it to you.”
Behind my shoulder, one of the attendants announced our order was ready. Elijah thanked them, then handed me my pretzel stick and cheese.
Taking a bite of his cinnamon sugar-covered twist, he jerked his head toward the row of shops. “What store do you want to go to?”
“Oh, you don’t have to… It’s fine. I didn’t mean to make a thing of it—” The protest died on my lips when his hand slid around my back.
His thumb dipped into the waistband of my jeans and his fingertips pressed against the curve of my ass. “What store, Hazel?”
I stared at a granule of sugar clinging to his lower lip, wondering if I could lick it off. “I guess wherever you normally shop.”
“You don’t want to dress me up like a sexy carpenter?”
I giggled. “No, you’re sexy just as you are.”
That was how I found myself standing outside the dressing room of a store that was much more expensive than I usually shopped at. On the other side of the door, Elijah was changing into clothes I’d picked out, which were a bit less laid-back than what he normally wore. I had picked a camel-colored sweater that was very soft and charcoal gray slacks. He’d grabbed a belt on his way into the room.
I preoccupied myself by organizing my calendar for the following week. I’d have to be pretty productive tomorrow to make up for the time I took off today. Even though I was heading back to town with Millie soon, I still had some tasks to complete before my date with Elijah tonight.
I typed my to-do list into my phone until the latch on the door clicked and it swung open.
He stood there in the center of the dressing room with his chestnut waves tousled, scraping one hand over his short beard while the other was tucked into the pants pocket. I took him in from head to socked-feet, and then I did it again—and maybe one more time for good measure.
Holding his arms out to either side, he asked, “What do you think?”
I pinched my lips together and nodded. “It looks really good on you.”
“Thank you. Is this what you wanted?”
Scanning over the broad set of his shoulders and the loose fit of the sweater at his waist, I hummed, “Mm-hmm.”
Elijah turned his back to me, from my place in the hallway my focus instantly dropped to his firm, round ass. After a beat or two, I enjoyed the thin fabric of the sweater stretching across his shoulder blades.
He looked so good. The anticipation for tonight grew into something needy low in my stomach and an ache formed between my legs. The memory of him, naked and sweating, roared to the forefront of my mind. There were too many layers between us in this public space, though I would do unlawful things if he suggested them.
“What are you thinking about, Hazel?” His tone had dropped, the words scraping his throat.
“Huh?” I met his eye in the dressing room mirror where he watched me. My eyes were wide, as if I’d been caught doing something wrong.
“You’re blushing.”
The warmth that had already filled my cheeks spread to my neck and chest.
“That look on your face is going to get us arrested,” he rumbled.
I couldn’t believe I could speak, even if my voice was weak and airy. “I believe in your self-control.”
“But not yours?”
“I don’t have much faith in mine right now.”
In slow movements, he turned and gripped the doorframe over our heads in one hand. He tilted his head down, capturing my gaze in his. I was trapped in his snare, without any desire to struggle free from it. He was so close, but we didn’t touch. He smelled like cinnamon, and my mouth watered, wanting to taste him.
He looked to either side of the hallway, ensuring that we were the only two people nearby.
We aren’t really…?
Because if he touched me, kissed me, pulled me into the dressing room and closed the door, I wasn’t sure I would stop us. The way my heart was pounding in my ears drowned out all my rational thoughts.
He stared at my mouth, his tongue moistening his lips, and I swayed toward him. His grip tightened on the doorframe and his bicep flexed. His hand skimmed the thin skin of my throat, and his thumb drew a line across my lower lip.
I was a pile of desperate skin and bones. I wanted his mouth on me so badly, every nerve in my body thrummed for more of his touch.
Somehow, I didn’t groan when he removed his hand and straightened, putting distance between us. There was a dark, dangerous tint to his eyes I’d never seen before. The rattle of his belt buckle startled my gaze to his waistband. I darted a look over my shoulder, but there was still no one there.
Only us.
“Just look,” he growled.
He sounded as desperate as I felt. As if there was a part of him clawing to be released, and it belonged with the part of me I could hardly hold back. The part of me that itched to run my hands over his body, that wanted to climb him like a goddamn tree.
He whipped the strap out of the loops with the sharp sound of leather on fabric, then let it fall to the floor. My jaw slackened as he stroked the heel of his palm along his hardened length, straining along the front of his pants. Then he took hold of the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head. His curls fell into his eyes, and he shook them back. The white undershirt he wore clung to his rounded pecs and long waist.
I had to cross my arms not to touch him.
Slowly, he took hold of the top of his pants and eased the button undone, and a sliver of his black boxer briefs peeked through the triangle. His fingers were long, and the rounded pads of his thumb and index pinched the metal tab of his zipper. Metal scraped on metal as he deliberately drew the zipper down. Inch by inch, he opened the triangle wider until I could see the base of his thick erection outlined in the thin fabric of his underwear.
I shifted my hips with my thighs pressed together, but it wasn’t enough. I was uncomfortably wet.
We stood there, frozen. The need in him ricocheted off the need in me—expanding, stretching, swelling. It strained against the few feet between us, pulling us closer. Urging us to stop thinking and just give in.
The buzz of my phone in my back pocket made me gasp.
I sighed as the spell whispered away, the intensity broken.
Elijah ran his hands through his hair and clasped them behind his neck. His jaw set firm.
Looking down at my insistent phone, I saw Millie’s name. The time on the screen revealed that I was supposed to be at her car for us to make the drive back to town. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” I said to Elijah. “I have to go. I’m late.”
His Adam’s apple worked on a swallow. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
I backed away from him, not trusting myself to even kiss him goodbye. Not when he was standing there half-dressed like the manifestations of all my fantasies.